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“Champagne?” a close-shaven tuxedoed man asked as he shoved a circular tray into her personal space.
A headshake no, and he kept walking. Since Courtney’s party, her resolve had taken the wheel—nothing could tempt her that evening. Especially free alcohol.
“I like your jacket,chica,” a familiar voice said from behind.
Roxi? Shouldn’t she be getting dressed and finishing up her last-minute rehearsals?
Gia turned in slow motion to find Roxi in full costume and make-up, looking at home amongst the black-tie wearers. The words that should’ve come so easily didn’t, and she stared at the woman before her like a child seeing Santa Claus for the first time.
“Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?” Roxi turned 360 degrees, holding the edges of her dress, and curtsying at the end of her spin.
“It is,” Gia managed. “I didn’t expect to see you until afterwards! You look amazing.”
“Gracias.You do, too. I meant it—I really love the jacket. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear anything but jeans and tank tops.”
“I’ve never had a reason not to.” Gia’s hands found the miniscule pockets in her pants, and she was reminded why she disliked things other than jeans—and cutoff jeans—the pockets in women’s pants were a joke. “I’m so glad I do tonight!”
“I gotta run, but I wanted to say hi before the show. It means a lot that you’re here. Oh! You’re sitting beside my papa, so—”
“Be on my best behavior?”
“No, not that. I mean, sure. But maybe have some tissues ready. He’s emotional about his baby making her off-Broadway debut. But he won’t admit it. He’s old school—men don’t cry—so I’m sure he didn’t pack a handkerchief.”
“You got it.” She might need those tissues herself. “The least I can do. Break a leg!”
Roxi grabbed Gia in a tight hug and kissed her cheek before slipping through the crowd back to the stage entrance. Gia’s head was buzzing from Roxi’s scent—raspberries, as always.
That was a good sign, right? Roxi’d snuck out of the dressing room to see her. Was she as anxious as Gia? Had she also been imagining what would happenafterthe show the whole time they’d been apart?
???
From the third row of the first proper theatre Gia’d ever visited, the stage looked both huge and tiny at the same time. Long velvet curtains were draped floor to ceiling about 10 feet from the front of the stage, teasing what was to come. She was the first one in her row, but not alone. The crowd had moved inside, and a symphony of chatter reverberated through the auditorium.
Reading through the Playbill, Gia learned about the cast—their roles, acting pedigrees, where they lived, their families, and more than once, the names of their dogs. One actor used a photo of her dog instead of a headshot. Roxi’s entry was shorter than most.
Roxi Delgado,Junie.Roxi hails from Palm Springs. She thanks her loving family and friends for their support in this new chapter. “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” is Roxi’s theatre debut, and she hopes she doesn’t blow it.
Nothing like authentic honesty. Roxi was nervous, but she hadn’t acted that way in their interactions. She’d acted calm and confident and cocky about her role in the show.
“Hola. Perdón,” he said as he attempted to slide between Gia’s legs and the seatback that blocked him. An impossible feat since her knees touched the plastic-backed seat in front of her.
“Let me—here.” Gia stood, making way for the unmistakable figure of Roxi’s father to pass. What was her father’s name? This would’ve been good information to ask for or remember before he sat beside her.R names, Gia thought.They all have R names.
“Señor Delgado?” Forget his name—Roxi’d said he was old-fashioned. Certainly, formalities would work.
“¿Sí?”
“I’m Gia, Roxi’s friend. You must be so proud of her.”
Señor Delgado nodded his head and smiled.
“I had no idea she was even interested in acting! She sure showed us, huh?”
Again, Señor Delgado nodded his head and smiled. Was he pacifying her? Or—did he not understand? Another thing it would’ve been good to find out pre-show. The Delgado family had lived in the States since Roxi was eight, she’d said. Gia took for granted that the elder Delgado would understand conversational English. Perhaps not. Instead of looking through at her or the Playbill, he was reading something on his phone—she got the message. Not a talker.
Eventually, the house lights flashed a signal to be seated, and the deep-voiced host from the reality show appeared under a single spotlight stage center.
“Hello!” he boomed. “I’m Jamison River and I’m thrilled to welcome you to the opening night of a very special musical event. The production you’re about to see was cast entirely as part of the ‘Make me a Holiday Star!’ reality television program. The actors in the show this evening earned their roles thanks to America’s votes. After its opening run here in L.A., it’s hitting the road for stops in a handful of major cities across the country, before ending up in New York City just in time for Christmas.”
