Page 153 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“I really don’t,” he says. “I floated your name and that’s all.”

I hold his gaze for a three count, but after that, I can’t keep the smile from spreading across my lips.

“You got it,” he says, and I get the sense he’s having trouble keeping his own smile away.

“I got it,” I say.

He neutralizes his expression. “Well. Yes. Good.” He clears his throat. “That’s great news, Rosie. Congratulations.”

I smirk, but he’s not looking at me anymore. “Why did you do this for me?”

“I didn’t—”

“But you did,” I cut in. “I hear you when you say I got the part, but you opened the door.” I pause. “Why?”

He leans back in his chair and looks at me. “I could say because it’s what Annie would want me to do.” He stops, like he’s trying to find exactly the right words. “But the truth is, I see something inyou. As long as you stay out of your own way, I think you’re going to be”—he squints—“Exceptional.”

I feel myself brighten at this. Like a flower turning toward the sun. “You really think so?”

“Don’t go fishing for more compliments. You get the one, that’s it.” He starts shuffling papers on his desk but then stops again and looks at me. “And remember, you can be exceptional anywhere.” He gives me a little nod, as if to punctuate the sentence, then stands, walks over to a shelf, and picks up a small box. He opens it, and for a moment, he’s lost to whatever memory he finds inside.

When he turns back to me, I stand, but I don’t say anything.

“This was Annie’s,” he says. “She didn’t believe in good luck. She believed in making your own. At least she said she didn’t, but she never did a show without wearing this.” His hand shakes a little as he picks up a gold chain with a small butterfly charm hanging on the end of it. “It’s the first gift I ever got her.” He smiles down at it, then holds the necklace out to me. “I want you to have it.”

I hold my hands up. “I can’t take that.”

“Anniewould want you to have it.”

“Arthur, you can’t give that away,” I say.

“Why not?” He pulls his hand back. “Annie’s not in this necklace like some Horcrux. She’s here...” He taps his chest, then sets the necklace back inside the box. “We never had children, Rosie. And the thought of passing this on to someone who reminds me so much of her, well, that makes me happy.”

I look at the necklace, then at him. “You’re sure?”

He nods and holds it out to me.

Slowly, I take it, feeling how precious it is. “I’m going to make you proud.”

And that feels like exactly the kind of promise I can carry with me into the next chapter—whatever it holds.

“Good,” he says. “Now get out of here and let me do my work. I have to figure out what show I’m directing in the fall.” He plops back down in his chair, leaving me standing there, mouth ajar.

“What?”

“Connie offered me the job when you turned it down,” he says. “I decided to give it a go.”

I do nothing to hide my smile, and he must sense it because he waves me off and orders me out of his office.

I turn to leave, but when I reach the door, I glance back, and that’s when I see him wipe a tear from his eye. And I think this precious, bristly, gooey-centered genius has changed my life forever.

Chapter 43

When the curtain falls on the final matinee performance ofCinderella, it’s like the emotional floodgates fail, sending torrents of joy and love and sadness spilling over everyone’s banks.

I don’t even try to sandbag the feelings, which means by the time the crowd has dispersed, I’ve cried off my mascara and have a red nose and an armload of flowers—gifts from people I’m going to be so, so sad to leave.

The cast and crew mill around on the stage, where we’ve decided to meet for a small celebration, my chance to give them all a proper goodbye.

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