Page 8 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls

Chapter Three

PIPER

Second Home

What I loved most about Ivy Falls was the way the tight-knit community looked out for each other. Yes, they could be all kinds of nosey, but there was never a doubt people cared. The town and its residents were familiar, reliable, and it made my heart content.

It felt good to know that when I walked into the square, each of the small, independently owned businesses like Minnie’s Market and the Ivy Falls Inn would still be there, waiting for customers both old and new. I’d had so much chaos in my life, but now I found comfort in the dependable and reliable. Something I never thought I’d want or need.

I walked past Sugar Rush and the hardware store. Silvio was in his regular spot on the sidewalk, using his old broom to sweep away dirt. He’d started moving slower over the past year. It was why Old Mrs V had been such a nag. He’d had more than one fall in the store but refused to cut his hours or hire anyone to help him manage the business. In my time away, I’d forgotten that being stubborn was practically a way of life in Ivy Falls.

At the end of the street, I turned the corner and years of memories descended like a warm summer rainstorm. The Ivy Falls Children’s Theater had been my second home as a kid and nothing had changed about it since I left. It had the same droopy shale roof, weathered black sign and industrial steel doors that had seen better days.

The last time I’d walked inside this building was a month before my family left for our year-long RV trip across the country. I was twelve and played a mouse in a production of Cinderella. I loved the singing and dancing. How every single person in the cast felt like a friend. It was one of the last happy memories of my childhood. Six months later my parents died, and Beck was badly burned in an RV explosion and my life was never the same.

I stopped in front of the theater’s doors, my hands trembling at my sides. Acting was the one thing I hadn’t completely screwed up, but I still hesitated. What did I know about being a director? My performing experience amounted to a few local commercials, small parts in community productions and several failed auditions while I tried to pursue a career as a professional actress in New York. I glanced over my shoulder to the street that led toward my house on Huckleberry Lane. For a second I thought about running.

No. I’d agreed to meet with Miss Cheri and I was done breaking promises.

Two steps inside the building and I heaved in a full breath. I wanted this, I just had to be strong enough to go after it. That’s what I’d told Dr Catherine, my therapist, last week, and I wasn’t backing down, no matter how hard my heart thumped against my breastbone.

I marched across the red-carpeted lobby to a set of double doors that led to the administration wing of the building. Miss Cheri told me her office was the third one on the left and I walked down the quiet hallway, coming to a stiff halt in front of a closed oak-colored door. With a shaky hand, I gave a quick knock and her sweet voice called out, ‘Come in.’

Miss Cheri had not changed much in the years since I’d been gone from Ivy Falls. Her black hair was in that same fringy pixie cut that made her wide blue eyes pop. The edges of her deep purple skirt flowed out in a swirl as she jumped up from behind the desk and encircled me in a warm hug. Just like when I was a kid, she smelled of patchouli and rose.

‘Thank you for taking time to see me.’

‘Of course!’ She released me and pointed to the plain wooden chair in front of her desk.

Before I sat, I took in the small, square office. Every inch of the walls was covered in old theater posters. I couldn’t help but smile at some of the shows I’d performed in. The King and I. Newsies. A Christmas Carol. Coming into this theater was a lot like coming home, and I regretted the fact that it had taken me so long to return.

When I finally eased myself into the chair, Miss Cheri shuffled a mound of papers into a tidy stack on her desk. ‘I was so pleased you expressed interest in the director’s job the day of the P&P’s grand reopening. But…’ She tapped her fingers against the desk’s aging wood. ‘Since then you’ve acted reluctant. Thought maybe you’d changed your mind.’

I let her comment sink in. The idea of directing the show sounded great at the time, but over the last few months I’d gotten inside my head. Worried that I wasn’t in the right mental state yet to take on such a big responsibility. It wasn’t until Old Mrs V cornered me at the Sugar Rush last week, pressed me on it, that I gave it more thought. Decided I was ready to go back to what I loved. What brought me so much joy. The theater.

‘I am a little hesitant. Do you think I can handle it? I remember a few of the directors from my shows, and they were all kinds of stressed out until opening night.’

She took a long pause. Maybe someone else had stepped in, or she’d decided that my past was too much of an issue to allow me to do the job. Or maybe she’d heard through the Ivy Falls grapevine that I couldn’t even deliver a damn latte without showering a customer in it. A flash of that poor drenched guy flew through my mind, and I quickly shook the image of him, and his sweet smile, away.

‘Piper, there is no other person in this town who is better suited for this job, but I only want you to take it if you feel like you’re ready.’ Her gaze went to the poster for the production of Cinderella. ‘You were a fixture here as a child. I remember that show in particular like it was yesterday. We couldn’t keep your tail on even though we sewed it to your costume multiple times.’ She started to laugh. ‘If I recall correctly, Prince Charming took a spill straight across the stage because he tripped over it.’

‘You can thank Beck for that. He loved to yank on the tail to be annoying.’

She gave me an amused grin. ‘I bet he loves having you home.’

‘He likes the fact that I insist on doing most of the cooking and cleaning, which makes life easier for him and Torran.’

She gave my hand a firm pat before her eyes went serious. ‘I know this theater holds a lot of memories for you. Your family was always here, with your dad and Beck helping with sets, and your mom insisting on bringing food to feed the entire cast and crew. I can understand how being here might be difficult.’

She was right. Every inch of this building was a reminder of a happier time with my family. Of when I was a carefree kid. My only worries being which part I’d get in the next show and if I’d remember my lines.

‘It is difficult. I’ve immersed myself in every part of this town, except for this place because of what it meant to me. Who I was in this space before everything in my life exploded. Literally.’

She bit into her wobbly lip. Miss Cheri was one of my mother’s closest friends. They’d traded recipes and sat next to each other at book club meetings. The day we left Ivy Falls to travel the country in the RV my parents bought, she was the last one to hug my mother goodbye.

‘I do have one question and I need you to be honest.’

‘Go ahead,’ she said.