Suite Scarlett

“I’ll begin, if that is acceptable to you, Donna,” Mrs. Amberson said snidely.

 

“However you like. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”

 

“I’m sure you are. Our story begins a number of years ago, a fabulous time in New York. I had been living in the city for a year, auditioning, doing odd jobs. I had lost my apartment and was desperate for a new place to live when I met the woman who sits in front of me now.”

 

“We met at an audition for the musical Annie,” Donna said. “We were both trying out for the part of Grace Farrell, Daddy Warbucks’s secretary.”

 

“Which neither of us got,” Mrs. Amberson cut in. “At the same audition, I met an actor named Rick, who was trying out for the part of Rooster. I had never met anyone so talented, so funny, so naturally able to entertain. This was someone you just knew, instinctively, was a star. The three of us went out for a bite to eat afterward, and two things came out of it—I found a place to live, and I also met the love of my life.”

 

“My roommate had just moved out to go on tour,” Donna explained. “Amy came at the perfect time.”

 

“That was a happy time,” Mrs. Amberson went on. “Rick and I were so in love, and I had a wonderful new friend and a snug home on Seventy-seventh Street. The apartment was small, but we didn’t care. I had never gotten along with anyone so well. All three of us became great friends, going to auditions together. Everyone commented on what a good group we made, what amazing timing and rapport we had. And then, one day, the show came along…”

 

Scarlett had to swing her head back and forth to keep up, but so far, their story was exactly the same.

 

“It was a bunch of Hollywood types,” Donna said. “They were trying to make a new late-night show. Something very sharp, very hip. They wanted ten players—ten of the sharpest, funniest, most versatile that New York had to offer. Rick, Amy, and I were all selected to go in for the first audition, which was three hundred people.”

 

“We all made it through nine rounds, down to the last twenty,” Mrs. Amberson said. “The producers seemed to love the chemistry among the three of us, and we were all sure, in our gut, that we had made it together into the group that was being sent to California. There, the final ten were going to be chosen. They said they were going to make their calls over the course of a week. That was a Saturday.”

 

This is where they both stopped, showdown-style.

 

“Would you like to continue, Donna?” Mrs. Amberson asked. “I’m sure you remember what happened next.”

 

“Of course I do,” Donna said, unperturbed. “Rick got his call on Monday night. I still remember the three of us sitting around the kitchen table, knowing that it was happening. We were going to go off to California together and be stars. And then you and I waited. And waited. And waited.”

 

“This was before cell phones, O’Hara,” Mrs. Amberson explained. “Or even answering machines, really. To make sure we didn’t miss the call, one of us was in the apartment at all times. When we heard nothing by Wednesday, I was feeling horrible and sick, and Rick went out and brought home this.”

 

She pointed stiffly in the direction of the cigarette case.

 

“Remember how I told you someone knew it was right for me, like he’d read my mind? Of all the objects in an entire city, Rick knew this was the one I wanted. I remember being so amazed, so in love, and my hope came back.”

 

“That?” Donna said. “You…”

 

“I will take over from this point, thank you.” Mrs. Amberson had gained total composure, and almost seemed glad to be telling her story. “Donna got her call on Thursday afternoon. There was one more day. I waited, never left the house, but the call never came. Three days later, in the bitter cold, they went off to California for the final round. My boyfriend and my best friend. I remember going with them in the cab to the airport in the snow, crying as the plane took off. I was so happy for them, and so heartbroken at the same time.”

 

“We got to California,” Donna jumped in, “and called Amy right away. We called her whenever anything happened. Over the next week, we were put through endless improvisations, interviews, and test screenings. They tried us in all the possible combinations. For me, it didn’t work without Amy there.”

 

“Oh, spare me…”

 

“Rick performed well,” Donna forged on, “but I didn’t. At the time, though, I didn’t really know what the problem was.”

 

“Lack of talent, I think,” Mrs. Amberson said. “I was so proud of Rick. I was bursting. I planned to make my own move out to California to be with him and try to start my career there. But in the meantime, as luck would have it, I got a call offering me another part. On Broadway. Not a lead, but a good, solid part. Actors need to take work when they can get it, so I accepted. I told Rick I would be out to LA as soon as I could.”

 

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