“I won’t be coming to the theater today,” she said. “This is much more important. But I need you to be there. It’s the first dress run. Be my eyes. And for God’s sake, smile. You’re representing me! You have to emit positive energy!”
To her credit, Mrs. Amberson had provided fantastic costumes—and there was something fascinating about what happened to the actors once they put them on and did their makeup. Everyone really seemed to change.
Mrs. Amberson’s concept was a twenties silent movie, so they all had at least a dusting of white with dark lining around the eyes and coloring on the lips. The female cast members were in sequined dresses, and the guys were outfitted with elegant suits. The silver trim she had sewed onto Hamlet’s looked strangely appropriate against all of the other outfits. Spencer and Eric had been directed to apply heavier coats of white makeup, with more lining around their features. They also wore suits, but ill-fitting ones, several sizes too large with the hems on the pants raised up high. This was partly for comic effect, and party for safety when they rode.
Scarlett stood out in her simple summer skirt and T-shirt. Her face felt bare. (Thankfully, in the heat. Also, actors seemed to sweat more than other people—what was that about?) She plastered on the requested smile as well, until Ophelia asked her if she’d hurt her jaw.
There were a lot of hiccups in the run. People forgot lines all over the place (including Eric, three times). The ramp going up to the stage shifted when Spencer was riding up it, and he just barely caught himself when the wheel jammed and he was sent pitching forward. Gertrude went into a panicked meltdown for ten minutes when she couldn’t get one of her scenes right. Hamlet bent the tip of his sword when it struck the wall.
It was Paulette’s job to deal with most of these things, but Scarlett dutifully wrote them down for Mrs. Amberson, only leaving out the problems with the ramp (it wasn’t Spencer’s fault, and Paulette was all over fixing it) and Eric’s flubbed lines. The group seemed exhausted by the end of the day, gratefully accepting Scarlett’s help with their clothes and props. Many of the outfits were pretty foul by the day’s end, and Scarlett started to fear for what things would be like when they’d been wearing them for a few days.
Scarlett had been avoiding approaching Spencer directly, but as he sat by himself, removing his makeup with some tissues, she saw a good chance to get a natural conversation going.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “The thing with the ramp…”
“I’m fine. I didn’t even fall.”
“I know, but…”
But nothing. He hadn’t actually fallen.
“The offer for dinner still stands,” she said.
“What?” he asked, rubbing hard at the white coating on his forehead.
“No plans?”
“No,” she said. “Come on.”
“Can’t. We’re all going to Leroy’s apartment tonight. It’s a cast-bonding thing. Can you tell Mom and Dad I’ll be home late?”
As soon as he said this, Scarlett became aware of the fact that everyone was zipping up their bags and congregating as if about to depart collectively. How she had missed this all day—not been aware of the event—was a little disturbing. Sure, she wasn’t exactly part of the cast, but she practically was. She had helped dress them. She had taken their skanky clothes when they were done.
“Sure,” she said. There was an audible droop in her voice that he had to have noticed. Either he was still angry, or he was feeling guilty, but he packed up and left even though he hadn’t completely removed his makeup.
This wasn’t okay. It really couldn’t go on. Scarlett followed right on his heels, all the way outside, where he had stopped to talk to Claudius.
“We need to talk,” she said, catching him by the arm. He put up no resistance and let her drag him a few doorways over, to a quiet spot in front of a nail salon.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked. “When do we get normal again?”
He didn’t answer for a moment.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I don’t get it. You like Eric. He’s your friend.”
“I work with him,” Spencer clarified.
“He’s not your friend?”
“I’m just clarifying. I have to get along with Eric no matter what in order to do my job.”
“That’s why he just thought it would be better if we didn’t…”
“He thought?” Spencer said. “He said not to tell me?”
“You can’t blame him. I’m the one who didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry every single second since I did it.”
Spencer was shaking his head and almost laughing, a grim laugh.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing,” he said, still smiling the rueful smile. He rubbed the remnants of white makeup off his eyelids with his hand. “There’s nothing I can say.”
This was infuriating. For one second, she understood some of the frustration that Lola felt when dealing with Spencer. It had never made sense to her before.
“He likes me,” she said. “Can you just get over the fact that it’s someone you know? I won’t hurt your show. Just let me be happy, please?”
This got rid of the smirk.