Page 70 of For My Finale
Gloria gasped as though Blossom had suggested setting fire to the entire village. “Don’t do the play? Are you quite mad?”
Daisy tapped her chin. “Actually, I think Gloria has a point. A lot of people have worked hard, it’s a morale booster for the village. We just need someone to step up and take over some of the directing.”
Gloria turned to Daisy. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Who do you suggest, then?” Arty asked curiously.
There was a moment of silence, then Gloria spun around and pointed a lengthy finger at Blossom. “Her.”
Blossom’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“You’ve been at every rehearsal,” Gloria said. “You know whatLilah wanted. You care about the village, you care about the play.”
“I can’t direct a play,” Blossom said, shaking her head.
“Why not?” asked Daisy.
“Well… because… because I’ve never done anything like that before. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Neither had Lilah,” Arty pointed out. “And she did a damn good job.”
Blossom crossed her arms. “That’s different.”
Gloria sighed dramatically. “It’s not. You can do this. Nearly everything has already been decided. We just need a strong hand at the helm for the final rehearsals. And if you don’t do this, then the whole thing falls apart.”
Blossom hesitated. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to step into Lilah’s shoes. Not when everything still felt so raw. But then Daisy gave her a look, one of those knowing looks that said she wasn’t going to let this go.
“It’ll help,” Daisy said gently. “It’ll take your mind off things.”
Blossom exhaled slowly. Maybe Daisy was right. Maybe having something to focus on, something that wasn’t Lilah, was what she needed.
“Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll do it.”
Gloria clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Rehearsal’s tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Blossom stood at the front of the village hall, arms crossed as she watched the rehearsal unfold before her. Gloria was, as always, being dramatic, sweeping across the makeshift stage like she was already on Broadway. Arty, on the other hand, was shifting awkwardly on his feet like he might have to pee, as Gloria danced circles around him. Literally. The rest of the cast was littered around the hall in various stages of boredom.
But Blossom wasn’t paying any particular attention. Her mind kept drifting. She’d been doing her best to throw herself into the play, into the cafe, into anything that wasn’t the ache of missing Lilah. But her focus just wasn’t what it should be.
She knew it too, knew she was letting Gloria get away with far too much as she crowed about the stage. But it was easier this way, easier than summoning up the energy to rein her in.
That was until Gloria turned to Arty mid-scene and snapped, “No, no, no! You’re doing it all wrong. You have to be more forceful, enunciate the words more, have grander gestures. You act like an ostrich.”
Arty sighed and looked over at Blossom and something inside her snapped. Gloria was bullying and Blossom didn’t tolerate bullying. Not from anyone.
“That’s not your job, Gloria,” she said sharply.
Gloria turned to her, arching an eyebrow. “Well, someone has to direct this mess, darling.”
“Then let me do it,” Blossom shot back. “Because I’m the director.”
A hush fell over the room. Gloria smirked and crossed her arms. “Are you, though?”
Blossom took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I am.” She focused, turned to face the stage. “And maybe if you’d all stop bickering for one second, maybe we could actually get something done.”
Gloria just stared at her for a long moment, then lifted her chin. “Fine, direct me, then.”
