Lola took her phone from the tipsy dresser and went out into the hall. Marlene followed to watch.
“I don’t know what just happened,” Spencer said. “I had no idea I upset her so much. You haven’t been listening to anything I say, right?”
“Of course not,” Scarlett replied. “I know way too much about you. Besides, I don’t want you to punch me.”
He shook his fist at her, then turned it on himself, knocking himself backward onto the bed.
“I’m going along with this, because the only other option is to do nothing at all,” he said from his flopped position. “But it’s never going to work.”
“It could work. And you were the one complaining that you never threw a party at home. Now’s your big chance.”
“True,” he said. “Might as well go out with a bang.”
Lola’s call was amazingly brief.
“It was almost like he was waiting by the phone,” she said. “He’ll do it. He’ll take us out on the boat whenever we like, for as long as we like. He’ll get some food brought on. We’ll have a picnic up the Hudson. Honestly, he picked up so fast, it barely rang once…”
This obviously stressed her out. She sat on the bed and twisted her hands together.
“All right,” Scarlett said. “It’s you now, Marlene. You have to convince Mom and Dad that you all need a family day out. Spencer and I won’t be going, so don’t stress the family togetherness thing too much.”
“This is easy,” Marlene said, cracking her knuckles.
Her confidence made Scarlett a little alarmed—but she was on board.
“I’ll go down with her,” Lola said. “To confirm the details.”
The two of them left—Marlene strutted, glad to be in the middle of it all, and Lola looked like part of the defeated army.
“Are we leaving my future with Marlene?” Spencer asked.
“Yes,” Scarlett replied. “We are.”
“I really want to see this now,” he said. “It’s like getting to find out how you’re going to die.”
THE PLAYERS ARRIVE
At ten the next morning, Scarlett waved off Lola, Marlene, and their parents…who had reluctantly accepted the offer of a day off. They were obviously wondering why Lola was willing to go on a day-long boat ride with her ex, but Marlene’s extremely skillful nagging did the trick. Plus, the prospect of a day in the sun and a catered picnic up the Hudson was appealing.
“You’re sure you don’t want to go?” her dad asked, as they got into the cab.
“Positive,” Scarlett said. “I’m just going to hang out. I have those school passes to the art museum. Spencer and I might go over later.”
Spencer had pretended to go to work that morning. In reality, he had long ago taken the day off. He was over at Trevor’s, helping to pack the props and stage components into a van.
Mrs. Amberson had been lingering down the block in a cab of her own. She pulled up as soon as the Martin family cab drove away.
“O’Hara,” she cried, stepping out. She was dressed in her dancer clothes again, and carried a small suitcase. “What a gorgeous day for a subterfuge. Though, it does look like it might rain a bit later. Perfect for Denmark! I was up all last night talking to Donna—so much to catch up on. Visits to other old friends to plan.”
“You mean Rick.”
“I do,” Mrs. Amberson said. “You’re always very quick with these things, O’Hara. But that is not a matter for today. Today, we do a show!”
At ten-thirty, they all began to arrive. Paulette and Leroy came first, squabbling about one of Hamlet’s cues. They dribbled in over the next half hour, filling the lobby with their many bags of costumes and supplies. Eric was one of the last to arrive, having come with the group in the van with most of the stage components and props. Scarlett herded them into the dining room, where Mrs. Amberson had taken position near the windows.
“Right!” She clapped her hands loudly. “We don’t have a lot of time, so this is how it’s going to go. Scarlett is in charge.”
Scarlett looked down to see fifteen faces looking up at her, ready to take direction. Fifteen actors and theater people, when she herself had no real experience, no real idea what she was doing. Which meant that the only choice was just to start talking.
“It’ll be easiest to use the second floor for your changing rooms, because it’s closer. There are two good rooms there—the Metro and Sterling Suites…”
“Do not use the bathroom in the Sterling Suite,” Spencer said. “Seriously. Don’t even look at it.”
“You have two ways of getting down, either the elevator, which is really slow, or the back stairs. For your backstage, to keep your swords and stuff, the kitchen is over here.”
She led the group over and pushed open the door, revealing the cavernous space and its many antique appliances.
“We can take all of these tables to the basement, and the chairs are for the audience, obviously. So, I guess the first thing is to clear this room.”
They didn’t move.