  Peggy sat at her dressing table applying her make-up carefully. For the first time this summer she had to be just as beautiful as possible with no little tricks or different hair styles for characterization. This time she could look just like Peggy, only more so. After she had put on the gown she wore for her entrance, she combed out her thick, glowing hair that had grown in the past few weeks until it just touched her shoulders. It framed her face in soft waves, and as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was pleased. “You look absolutely lovely, Peggy,” Rita said, “dreamy, in fact. I think the audience will go into a tail spin—to say nothing of your friend Randy.” The minute she mentioned his name, Peggy’s knees began to shake. “Here I go again,” she said nervously. “Opening night! Clammy hands and butterflies!” “Well, don’t worry about it,” Rita said gently. “It’s only because you’re doing a lead. It’ll go away.” But privately, Peggy wasn’t so sure. Was she nervous because of the play or Randy in the audience? “Oh, I wish he hadn’t told me,” Peggy thought desperately. “Now I’ll be thinking of him out there—” “Five minutes!” Gus called, and Peggy made her way to the wings. “Break a leg, leading lady,” Chris whispered as he walked by, “and don’t worry about a thing.” He grinned at her encouragingly and Peggy thought again what a wonderful person Chris was. She wished he hadn’t teased Randy in that manner, but then Chris did everything all the way. No half measures for him! Peggy watched him close his eyes for a moment, getting into character and collecting his energy. Chris would be good, Peggy had no doubt. “And what about me?” she wondered. “I hope I can concentrate and not be distracted by my own private thoughts.” “Curtain!” The play had begun. Peggy didn’t make her entrance until the second scene of Act One. Now she wished that she had stayed in her dressing room instead of watching from the wings. By the time she walked on she was more nervous than ever, but fortunately, Janet was supposed to be in an excited state, too. Peggy was just beginning to relax and feel comfortable, timing her laugh—when the phone didn’t ring on cue! Peggy looked at Chris and Chris looked at Peggy. There was dead silence for a moment. Something must have gone wrong with the phone bell or, worse, someone had forgotten! They couldn’t go on, either, until it rang. The call was necessary to the action. “Well”—Peggy plunged in with an improvisation—“I’ve heard of sea gulls that are supposed to be angels of ships at sea.” Preston and Janet had just been talking about gulls—perhaps they could continue until the phone rang. But Chris didn’t pick it up. He looked perfectly blank, and Peggy read in his eyes that desperation that means an actor is completely at a loss. In theater terms, Chris had “gone up”—higher than a kite. “I think there was an article about sea gulls in the Reader’s Digest,” Peggy ad libbed valiantly while Chris stayed silent as a tomb. If only he would come back a little and help her out! Peggy got up from the couch and strolled around the room as if seeing it for the first time. If she could disappear in the wings for a moment, she might be able to signal someone. “I hadn’t noticed what a lovely place you have here, Mr. Mitchell,” she went on, making her way upstage to the hall. “Is this the way to the kitchen?” She was out in the hall now and disappeared for a moment, waving her hand frantically in the wings. Chris suddenly came to life and realized what she was doing. “Why, don’t tell me you’re hungry,” he called after her. “But if you want to snoop around—go ahead.” “I’m not snooping!” Peggy reappeared for a second. This was better—at least they were improvising in character. “I’m just naturally curious, that’s all.” She disappeared again, desperately whispering, “Sst—sst—where’s the phone?” Michael signaled her that they were working on it, the battery was dead! “Well, use the doorbell then—anything!” Peggy whispered. She came back on stage, her ingenuity giving out—but there it was, the ring! Chris dived for the receiver. Gus had used the doorbell but they managed to cover well enough and finished the first act with relief. “Whew!” Chris said when the curtain closed. “Thanks a lot for pulling me through, Peggy. When that bell didn’t ring, I blew completely. First time that’s happened in ages.” “You were wonderful, Peggy,” Rita said. “I don’t think the audience noticed a thing!” “Gosh, I’m sorry.” Gus came up apologetically. “We should have used the doorbell right away instead of tinkering with the phone. That was quick thinking, Peggy.” “So I did have my mind on my work after all!” Peggy thought happily. “How silly of me to worry about it.” But as the play progressed to the last act where Preston finally embraces Janet, Peggy was amazed to find that the simple scene had suddenly acquired enormous value. All she could think of was Randy out in the audience! As they took their curtain calls she looked anxiously for him, wondering what he was thinking. “Terrific!” Randy congratulated her with a friendly hug when he came backstage. “You were funny and wonderful and perfect and you looked like a vision!” “Why don’t you introduce me, Peggy?” Alison asked as she came by. “This must be your famous friend—” “Randolph Clark Brewster,” Peggy said gaily, relieved that Randy had taken the play as a play. “He’s a wonderful comedian, but his heart isn’t in it. He wants to be a playwright.” “Really!” Alison drawled. “You aren’t related to the Brewsters of Long Island by any chance?” Randy frowned and sent an appealing look to Peggy. He hated anyone to know about his wealthy family as he was trying his best to be successful on his own. “Well, uh, yes,” he muttered reluctantly. “Look, Peggy, change your things, and let’s go out for a snack. This is my night off and I want to make the most of it!” “I always did like that strong, silent type,” Alison said as they entered the dressing room, “and besides having that wonderful face and red hair, he comes from a very prominent family. I don’t blame you for leaving Chris in the lurch for your old friend.” The barb sank in, and Alison’s contrived innocent smile did nothing to relieve it. “Well,” Peggy thought miserably as she took off her make-up, “if people can’t understand a thing like friendship, then let them think whatever they like!” “Hey, open up, Peggy.” Peggy got up to open the door and saw Bill Slade standing there. “You were great, Peggy. You’ll have to do another lead this summer. Want to go out for some coffee?” He smiled, accepting her silence as consent. “Peggy—a small tribute to a great leading lady!” It was Chris, and he handed her a huge bouquet of roses with an elegantly mocking little bow. “But let’s eat. I’m famished.” “That’s a really fine set,” Randy commented, returning from a tour of the stage. “Are you ready yet?” Peggy hastily excused herself and closed the door while the three boys waited in the hall, each assuming that she was his special date for the evening. The three boys waited in the hall Rita looked at Peggy’s perplexed expression with undisguised amusement, finally breaking into laughter. “The only solution, as I found out long ago, is marriage!” she chuckled. “You’d better start thinking about it, Peggy!” “That is the last thing in the world I’m going to think about—for a long time!” Peggy said emphatically. She picked up her bag and sighed heavily, wondering how to handle the situation. Alison was grimly combing her hair and putting her make-up away. “I don’t blame her for feeling left out,” Peggy thought. “Playing a lead does seem to make a difference in people’s interest—although it shouldn’t. And taking a back seat isn’t easy for Alison.” Peggy wondered how Alison would react if she asked her to join them. It would simplify everything, but she mustn’t appear to do it out of kindness. “Are you ready, Alison?” Peggy asked matter-of-factly. “Ready for what?” Alison looked up, surprised. “Why, to go to Mrs. Brady’s or the inn—or wherever we’re going. I think we ought to let the boys decide.” Peggy treated it as if it had been understood from the beginning. “Are you and Gus coming along, too?” she asked Rita. “I’m sorry, we can’t, Peggy. We have to go over the prop list for You Can’t Take It with You. It’s a difficult show on the backstage end, and I want to help all I can.” Peggy nodded. Next week was going to be a challenge for everyone. “Better hurry, Alison,” she said. “We can’t stay out too late. We have an early call tomorrow.” It worked out just as Peggy had hoped. They went to the inn for sandwiches and Alison attached herself to Chris, leaving Peggy free to enjoy Randy’s company. Bill Slade had a marvelous time with all of them. Alison’s presence prevented Chris from kidding Randy, which, Peggy suspected, Chris would have loved to do. Just once in the evening, when Alison excused herself for a moment, Chris leaned across the table and said, “Say—how’d you like that last act, Randy? Think it was realistic?” Randy looked from Chris to Peggy and back again. “Well,” he said with a slow smile, “it wasn’t exactly the way I would have played it, a little too theatrical for me. But then, Preston Mitchell was an actor! I’d be inclined to take that scene too seriously, I’m afraid.” He looked steadily at Peggy and she thought she understood. Randy was telling her that Chris’s interest in her was a professional mood—something she had guessed already. But more important, he was saying that his own feelings went deeper. Peggy felt comforted and secure. Whatever happened with their friendship, it would always be a lasting one. Peggy smiled at him understandingly. “What’s your play next week, Peggy?” Randy asked. “You Can’t Take It With You! And it’s going to be a job! We have to use a lot of townspeople because it’s such a large cast—” “It’s a great show, though,” Chris added enthusiastically. “And the most awful thing, Randy,” Peggy continued, “is that I won’t be able to see your act down at the Manor.” “Well, at least you can say good-by.” Randy smiled. “The day you play there is the day I leave.” “Leave!” Peggy suddenly had an inspiration. “Oh, Randy, why don’t you stay here for another week? We’re going to need so many people in You Can’t Take It with You—I’m sure Chuck and Richard would love to have you.” “The Russian!” Alison cried. “Everyone’s been biting their nails, wondering who could play the Russian!” “Oh, yes, you’d be perfect, Randy,” Peggy urged. “And I’m doing Essie, the little ballerina. We could work together—do say you’ll stay!” “We-e-ell,” Randy hesitated, “I suppose I don’t have to rush back—” “You’re absolutely sure?” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, we wouldn’t want you to miss anything in New York—” He looked at Peggy for a moment, and noticing her pained expression, laughed good-naturedly, leaning across the table to shake Randy’s hand. “Okay. You win, Mr. Brewster! I can’t compete with old school ties and all that. You would be great for the part and we’d love to have you.” The boys shook hands, grinning at each other, while Peggy looked on, happy and relieved. Chris had evidently decided to “bury the hatchet.” Alison seemed a little mystified. “What’s going on with you two? You look as though you had a deep, dark secret.” “Deep, but not dark, Alison,” Chris laughed. “Light as summer. Which reminds me, who knows something good for mosquito bites? They’ve decided all of a sudden that I’m a particularly delectable morsel!” “Oh, oh, you’ve come to the right place,” Bill Slade offered eagerly. “Take it from an old hand—” “No, no, I know the best thing of all—” Alison urged. “But I found something brand-new—” Peggy started, and then everyone laughed, plying Chris with their favorite remedies. Randy promised Peggy that he’d speak to the producers the next day, and the party broke up with happy expectations of next week’s show. |
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