Page 20 of For My Finale
And now?
Now she was lying on the world’s smallest and lumpiest couch, staring at the ceiling, and wondering if it was possible to die from sheer boredom.
Bankton had nothing. No parties, no scandals, no overpriced organic juice bars. The days stretched in front of her, long, endless, suffocating in their quiet. She’d already been to the tiny store and bought eggs, yoghurt, and something in a screw-top bottle that said it was wine. She’d been on a walk that had ended with a sheep looking at her funny, though at least she hadn’t run into Billy. And she’d attempted to watch British daytime TV, something that she shuddered to think about and would not be mentioning again.
This, she decided, was an existential crisis in real time.
It was like it had taken all her energy to break away from her old life and now she had nothing left to plan her new one.
She knew why she was here, she knew why she’d walked away, but it was as though she was still reeling from the shock of what she’d done and had no stable foundation on which to build anything else.
She truly didn’t know where to go from here, despite knowing in the abstract what it was she wanted. Meaning. That was it. She wanted meaning.
She groaned and buried her head in a cushion. Maybe she could reorganize her sock drawer or something.
And then the knock came at the door.
For a second, she stared at the door, suspicious. On the one hand, no one should be visiting her. Barely anyone knew that she was here. On the other hand… well, having another person to take part in what were becoming increasingly alarming conversations in her head could be no bad thing.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
Lilah got up, walked the three steps to the door, and opened it.
A mass of scarves stood there, beaming.
“Lilah,” the scarves said, far too enthusiastically. “I just knew that you’d be home.”
The actress, Lilah remembered. The Dam-Sam lady, or whatever it was. Am-Lam? Dram-Tam?
“Gloria,” the scarves beamed. “From Am-Dram?”
That was it. Lilah resisted the urge to slam the door shut. “Gloria,” she said. “I was just about to…” But she couldn’t think of a damn excuse.
Undeterred, Gloria waltzed in like she owned the place, taking in the modest décor with a slight wrinkle of her nose before turning back to Lilah. “We got off on the wrong foot,” she declared. “But we must stick together. We’re both actresses, after all. We both understand the craft. We both are artists.”
“Are we?” asked Lilah, somewhat unsure in the face of Gloria’s absolute certainty.
“Oh, absolutely,” Gloria chirped. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. I want to personally invite you to the Bankton Players first rehearsal of Streetcar tonight. As my honored guest.”
Lilah blinked. “What, now?”
Gloria clasped her hands together, her entire being seeming to vibrate with dramatic energy. “We’re doing Streetcar, darling. It’s going to be stunning. You must come!” She paused, looked around, then added, “You must be desperate for something to do.”
Rude, but accurate. Lilah narrowed her eyes. “Honored guest?”
“Yes, yes,” Gloria said, waving a hand. “No expectations.”
“I’m not performing,” Lilah said.
“Oh, of course not. But you must witness this.”
Lilah had a feeling that she was going to regret this. But Gloria had a point, she had nothing else to do. And at least it would get her out of the house.
THE TINY TOWN hall was packed. Lilah had walked past her car on the way here and thought that she should call the company to come and collect the damn thing. She had no intention of attempting to get it out of its parking space. Unless she could do it in the dead of night with no one watching. That was a thought.
She’d been so busy thinking about parking that the little crowd in the town hall took her by surprise. She’d imagined a handful of retirees reading from a shared script. But no, it looked like half the town had turned out to be a part of… whatever this was doomed to be.
“Darling, you came!” Gloria caroled. “Come, come, have a seat. The seat of honor, of course. Just you sit here and drink it in, darling. Drink in the theater. It’ll have you feeling better in no time.”
