Page 8 of Script Swap (The Last Picks #11)

Nora kissed their cheek, but her eyes didn’t leave me, and when she spoke, it was to me again.

“There’s a video of you on a panel. You’re discussing a short story.

What eventually became ‘Murder on the Emerald Express.’ It’s embarrassing how many times I’ve watched it, but I wanted so badly to get a sense of you.

You were so important to Vivienne’s life. And to the play, of course.”

“Uh, right,” I said. Which was a pretty respectable response, I thought, considering a) I had no idea a video of me existed anywhere on the internet; and b) about ninety percent of my brainpower was currently dedicated to figuring out how I could get it taken down.

“I need to pick your brain,” Nora said. “I have so many questions about Vivienne. I’ve watched everything, of course, and I’ve read nearly everything.

But she absolutely refused to talk to me, and I’d love your firsthand impressions of her.

How did she move? How did she talk? What stood out to you? ”

“What about Pippi?” I said. “Her best friend.”

That made Nora laugh again. “Do you know what she said? When I asked her, I mean. I wanted to know the same thing—what’s she like in person?

And Pippi gave me the party line about how she was such a bad person and she can’t believe nobody knew and it’s all perfectly obvious in hindsight, and I kept asking for details: how did she stand?

How did she walk? What was it like to have a conversation with her?

And Pippi was getting flustered, you could tell, until finally she told me she gave Vivienne a cough drop during a panel they were on together, and Vivienne didn’t say thank you. ”

I laughed, and Nora laughed too. Even Fox laughed.

“Okay,” I said, “before I chicken out, I have to tell you that I absolutely loved Women and Friends .”

With a smile, Nora said, “Thank you.”

“No, I mean, I love that movie. I don’t think I can even tell you what it meant to me when I was a teenager.”

“That’s why we do this, you know? The art, I mean. To connect with each other.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Dashiell.”

“Thank you ,” I said, although I wasn’t exactly sure why. It probably sounded less complimentary, though, when I said, “Why are you here?”

Nora laughed again, although there was an edge to it now. “What goes up must come down, I’m afraid. Your face, Dashiell. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. That’s life—Hollywood isn’t exactly churning out movies about women of a certain age, and there’s only room for so many of us.”

“I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

She waved the apology away. “It’s a fair question.

I’m from here originally. Did you know that?

And performing at The Foxworthy was my first time as a real actor.

A Flicker in the Dark . God, I still can’t believe Terrence cast me as Giselle; I didn’t know anything ; thank God I was hardly ever on stage. ”

“But it’s such an important role,” Fox said. “It’s important because there’s so little stage time.”

Nora struck a pose and said, “Every light must go out.” And then, with a teasing little smile, “That was my last line in the play.”

Fox and I applauded dutifully, but I couldn’t help adding, “At least it wasn’t The Mousewife .”

“You caught that, did you?” Nora’s grin flashed out and then was gone again. “Poor Jonni; she gets in over her head and then she doesn’t know what to do. She’s been like that her whole life.”

“Wait,” I said, “Jonni started her career here too?”

“Oh yes,” Nora said. “She’s from Seaside.

Why do you think she’s back here? She’s in the same boat I am.

And what’s the saying? ‘Home is where, when you go back, they have to take you in.’ Of course, she’s taking it a bit harder than I am, as you can tell, but as I said, she’s always been like this.

She used to pick these awful fights with her husband—she was insanely jealous; the poor man finally ran off—and then she’d have no idea how to get herself out of them.

” Nora shrugged. “This isn’t any different. ”

That seemed like an opening, so I said, “What was that all about a few minutes ago?”

“Dressing rooms. It’s an old game that troublesome actors play. I want a bigger dressing room. Why does so-and-so have a bigger dressing room? I want that room. I want flowers. I want M they’re supposed to be looking at me. ”

“Do you know why she’s so, uh, fixated on it?”

“I don’t. If I understood anything going on in that girl’s brain, maybe we could have a moment’s peace around here.”

“Amen,” Fox said and crossed themselves.

“What happened with Kyson’s lines?” I asked. “You mentioned that he doesn’t know his lines yet, but Pippi and Terrence said they’d changed the script.”

“One line,” Nora said. “Maybe two. He should have had it down pat after reading the changes.”

“He seemed confident enough last night.”

“Good,” Nora said. “I’m happy to hear it. That’s the goal with every performance: you want the audience to believe that everything was supposed to happen that way, and I’m proud of him for carrying it off, truly. But—” A smile slanted across her mouth again. “There’s that pettiness again.”

“But what?” I asked.

For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer.

Then she said, “Pippi and Terrence decided to change the lines because he kept messing up. That speech at the end of act two is important. It’s supposed to help the audience understand that Daniel has hit his low point.

He’s afraid. He knows his life is on the line. And Kyson couldn’t land it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He kept fumbling it. Even when he could get the lines right, the delivery was off. That’s why they changed it.”

That wasn’t what Pippi and Terrence had told me, but I wasn’t ready to argue the point.

“I understood that someone tampered with Kyson’s script.

Someone changed the lines in it—again, I mean.

What he said last night, right before the lights went out, it wasn’t what Pippi and Terrence put into the new version. ”

“Yes,” Nora said. “There was quite the…discussion about that after the show. And I suppose I believe Kyson; I don’t think even he could butcher a line so badly. But why would someone do that?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d have an idea.”

Nora gave a helpless shake of her head.

I tried to think of how to say the next part without upsetting Fox. “Terrence and Tinny seemed particularly upset.”

“Did they?” Nora asked. “And you want to know why.”

“If you have any ideas.”

Another of those slanting smiles. “Unfortunately, I don’t. Aside from the obvious—this foolishness Terrence has gotten himself into. I’m sorry, Fox, but it is foolishness.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Fox said. “It’s ridiculous. She’s practically a child, and he’s acting like every randy old goat throughout history.”

Nora gave a shrug that was surprisingly eloquent—the gist of it seemed to be: men .

“If you remember anything,” I said, “something unusual from last night, something you noticed, would you let me know?”