"I'm not breaking my lease."
"Of course you are. You're coming home. There's no need for you to be here anymore."
"Other than I live in New York. There's like, literallynothingfor me back in Ohio." Not to mention no way in hell am I going back there, tail between my legs.
"There's not much here for you either," Dad says. Oh shit, if he's weighing in, it's gettin' serious. I'm going to lose this argument. Time to pull out the big guns.
"Actually, I'm not totally done. I'm just pivoting."
I hate that expression.
By this time, we've reached the hotel lobby. We're silent as we step into the elevator. At this late hour, there's no one around.
"What do you mean by pivoting? And don't be a smart-ass and tell me it's some kind of turn." My mom is done being patient.
"I, um, well, I have a role in a musical theater production. It runs for two weeks. The theater's here, in New York." I casually omit that it's in New York State, not New York City. That's a distinction I don't really want to make right now. The same goes for the fact that I'm the understudy, not the lead. "I start rehearsals in a few weeks. I have to be there for that. And the best part? It'sAn American in Paris." I lay my trump card down with a flourish.
My mom's face lights up, beaming with pride. "Oh, I knew it. I'm glad you didn't give up. And you were born to be Lise!"
Gotta love how she automatically assumes I have the lead rather than the ensemble.
"We didn't raise her to give up. Or to accept second place. She's going to be the best. Whatever it takes." Dad's strong hand claps down on my shoulder.
I can barely sleep in the hotel. Partially because of Dad's tympanic snoring, but mostly because of the guilt eating me from the inside out.
I should have told them the truth.
Honesty is the best policy.
Sure, it is, except when being honest hurts them. And me.
I'm not sure I've slept for more than a few hours when I'm woken by the sound of my phone. It's The Edison. Oh please God, don't be firing me.
"Leslie Ann Moose?"
I should have come up with a stage name. "Yes?"
"It's Henderson Quade from The Edison." I recognize his Australian accent. "We're in a bit of a pickle, and we're wondering if you'd be able to step into a role."
"You want me to do a role? In addition to the one I auditioned for?"
My conversation has piqued the interest of both my parents. My mom begins jumping up and down and asking questions. I wave my hand in a desperate effort to silence her.
"Yes. It's the role of Anne Wheeler inThe Greatest Showman. You know, the one Zendaya played in the movie."
"The trapeze artist?" Oh shit. I don't know how to trapeze. Or whatever it's called.
"Yes. We were thinking that with your strong dance background, we'd be able to figure something out. The lodging would begin now, and you'd receive full salary for your time."
This is too good to be true. "What's the catch?"
"The show opens July first. Today is already day three of rehearsals."
I glance at my watch to see the date. It's June sixteenth. "It's not a lot of time."
"No, and we're opening this show a day earlier than normal. You only have two weeks to learn everything."
Including a brand new skill that I don't actually possess.
