Page 6 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls (Ivy Falls #3)

PIPER

Emotional Sensors

Today was all about good luck charms. I was wearing my favorite T-shirt, my softest jeans and a pair of worn-in purple Converse that felt like slippers.

The topaz and jade rings I’d collected from all my travels sat perfectly on my fingers.

Even though I’d shampooed it twice, the scent of coffee still lingered in my hair so I tied it back in a braid with my best scrunchie.

It felt silly to wear every special talisman I owned, but I needed this first rehearsal to go smoothly because it would set the tone for the whole production.

I pulled in a full breath before I opened the doors to the lobby of the theater.

Fake potted plants and red velvet benches sat in the corners of the room.

More framed posters of shows like Avenue Q and The Heights lined the walls.

To the right of the entrance sat the glass-encased box office with its arched window and single high-back chair.

I could do this. They were kids. I was a kid once. How hard could it be?

With confident strides, I marched toward the theater doors and yanked them open. What I saw inside had me quickly slamming them shut.

That urge to run again overtook me until I considered the way Miss Cheri had looked at me with such confidence yesterday. How she swore I could handle this.

I stiffened my shoulders, tipped up my chin and flung the doors back open.

The scene inside the theater was what I imagined the circus would look like if all the animals and clowns were let loose at once.

More than a dozen kids raced around the hundred-year-old space. Some were screaming. Others were singing along to a rap song blaring out of a portable speaker.

The pungent scent of old paint and decaying wood swept over me as I stalked down the center aisle. Small puffs of dust floated up around my feet as I moved. I’d spent a lot of time here when I was a kid, but I didn’t remember the place being so ancient and musty.

When I reached a set of side stairs, I climbed them and marched onto the stage. The entire time my mind was spinning.

Why had I thought this was a good idea?

I didn’t know anything about kids.

And, sadly, did I even deserve to be here after everything I’d done?

I pressed a hand to my lips. Grounded my feet on the stage. My pulse raced. A thousand dire scenarios swirled in my head. I closed my eyes. Counted out what I could hear, smell, feel. My pulse slowed and rational thought took over.

If I understood anything, it was acting. It’d been my passion since I was a kid. Hell, I had my first small role here when I was seven playing a cub in a production of The Lion King .

I steadied my feet before placing two fingers against my lower lip and blowing out the loudest whistle I’d ever conjured.

The chatter stopped immediately.

‘How’d you do that?’ a boy standing below the stage asked. He quickly followed it with, ‘Can you teach me?’

‘That’s not on the schedule today,’ I said in the most adult voice I could muster. Kids started to talk again, chase each other up and down rows, until I called out, ‘If you want to be part of this show, you will find a seat by the time I count to five.’

This had always worked for my mother when she was pissed at Beck and me, and I hoped it’d work now.

The kids kept laughing, running, until I said, ‘Five, four…’ I paused. ‘I can call parents.’

It didn’t take long for them to put their butts in the red upholstered seats in front of the stage. Like magic, the music disappeared too.

‘Good,’ I said firmly. ‘Looks like you all understand instructions.’

The weight of a dozen stares landed on me. My hands began to shake again and I shoved them into the pockets of my jeans. Again that doubt about whether I was capable of doing this job raced through my brain.

It’d been over two years since I’d gotten my shit together. I wanted to be a bigger part of the Ivy Falls community; that was why I’d volunteered for this job. But kids were emotional sensors, and they’d smell fear on me in an instant.

I rolled back my shoulders and pulled the folded paper out of my back pocket.

‘Welcome to the first day of rehearsals for Mary Poppins Jr . I’m Piper Townsend, the volunteer director for the show. Today, we’re going to do a read-through of the musical.’

A boy in the front row who looked to be around twelve shot up his hand. ‘Is this going to be like the movie my mom made me watch? It was ancient and the animation was kind of sketch.’ The kids around him snickered.

‘No. This is going to be a shorter version made for younger actors. And I’ll have you know that both Julie Andrews, who played the nanny Mary Poppins, and Dick Van Dyke, who played Bert, won numerous awards for their roles in the movie, so it’d be good to show a little respect.’

The room went quiet and I went on.

‘I’ll call out your names and the roles you’re playing based on the recent auditions. I want you to come to the stage and fill the seats.’ I pointed to a circle of plastic chairs set up behind me.

Some kids stared with wide eyes. Others played on their phones.

I started with the character of Mary Poppins. A teen girl named Autumn popped up and moved to the stage. Next, I called out who would be playing the chimney sweep, Bert. A familiar kid with shaggy brown hair approached. Dex. A few days ago, he’d taken me out with his rogue skateboard at the P&P.

My mind flashed to that cute guy I’d dumped an entire iced latte all over. How I’d stupidly tried to dry him off in not-so-appropriate places. My heart sped up and heat filled my cheeks.

This was what I did. Let myself spiral over things I couldn’t change. I focused on my breathing and the kids who were waiting on my next directions.

Dex sauntered up the stairs and gave me a mischievous grin like he remembered the coffee disaster too.

The rest of the cast found their own chairs. I walked to a small table set stage right and grabbed a round wicker basket. ‘First rule. No phones during rehearsals. You’ll get them back when practice is over.’

The kids grumbled but willingly dumped their phones. I set the basket under the table and grabbed a stack of papers. A wayward, frizzy curl drooped over my cheek and I tucked it back behind my ear.

‘Let’s begin with an easy question. How many of you have done a musical before?’

Autumn raised her hand. ‘This is my fourth year. I played Dorothy in Oz! – last year’s production.’

‘Great. You can help me show the new kids the ropes.’

Her gaze danced over the rings on my fingers and then moved to my faded gray T-shirt.

‘What’s CEE BEE GEE BEE?’ she asked.

‘It was a legendary spot in New York where some amazing bands and musical artists used to play. They closed it down a long time ago.’

‘I heard you were an actress,’ she said eagerly. ‘Did you live there?’

That got everyone’s attention.

‘Yes. I had an apartment in Greenwich Village.’

‘Why did you come back here? This place is boooooring,’ Dex said snidely.

A few kids giggled. The others stared at me like wide-eyed barn owls.

‘Ivy Falls is where I grew up. In fact, I did a few shows in this theater myself when I was younger.’

None of them were impressed except Autumn, whose stare was now fixed on the two small gold hoops pierced through the cartilage on the top of my left ear.

‘Why don’t we get started,’ I said, moving around the circle. ‘These are your scripts. You can make notes in the margins if you want, but do not lose them. We don’t have the funding to order a ton of replacements.’

The kids started flipping through the pages.

‘We’ll start at the beginning with me voicing the intro. When you see your character’s name, you’ll read that line.’

Two boys to my left shifted anxiously in their chairs.

‘Your lines can be read simply for now. When we get more practice, you can add your own voice to it.’

Autumn raised her hand. ‘Miss Piper.’ She blushed. ‘Is it okay if we call you that?’

‘Sure. That works.’

She smiled and said, ‘Will we hear the music too?’

‘No. Right now we’ll focus on your lines.’

‘When will we get to the music?’ Dex asked.

‘If we can get through the script in the next day or two, music will come after.’

Dex looked around the room. ‘How will we hear it? I don’t see a sound board.’

I arched an eyebrow. ‘Why didn’t you raise your hand when I asked about who’d done a show before?’

Dex shrugged. ‘I haven’t acted. A friend’s older brother is part of the theater tech team at Ivy Falls High.’

‘I’ll accompany you all on the piano first. When we get farther into rehearsals, we’ll work with an instrumental recording that will be used during the actual performance.’

‘You play the piano? Cool,’ Dex said.

Maybe this kid was not going to be a problem after all.

Before we started with the script, we played an introduction game. By the time we were done, the kids were smiling and laughing.

Okay. This isn’t so bad.

We started from the top and the kids read their lines. Autumn, who was a bit older than most of the other actors, took to Mary Poppins’ motherly role quickly. Dex wobbled a bit with some of Bert’s lines. More than once, I caught him staring at Autumn.

Oh no, preteen hormones. I was going to have to keep an eye on that.

By the time we got through the first act, the kids were begging for a break.

I agreed and let them know where the bathrooms were.

Miss Cheri appeared from the wings and set out a few snacks for the kids.

It didn’t take long for them to swarm the table, stuffing their mouths with pretzels, granola bars and gummy bears.

She rushed up to me wearing a wide grin. ‘I was watching from the wings. You’re a natural with them.’

‘I’m not sure about that.’