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The following afternoon at three-fifteen sharp, Lola stood center stage at the downtown auditorium. She peered down at the cast and crew for Martha’s Vineyard performance of Annie, set to begin at seven-thirty that evening. Lola wore a simple black turtleneck, a pair of dark jeans, and a pair of black tennis shoes with very little makeup. She’d once seen a documentary about a female film director who, when interviewed, had dressed simply, describing her fashion as “behind the scenes to allow whatever story she worked on flourish outside of her.”
“Today’s the big day,” Lola told her cast and crew. “I want each and every one of you to turn off your phones and really focus here. This stage is now your world. Annie is now the only story you know. Your character is you. And if you’re backstage crew— lighting or otherwise— you’re like the sun and the moon and the stars for the cast. You’re like oxygen. Nobody else can exist without you.”
Lola watched as the cast and crew grabbed their cell phones and set them to OFF. There was finality in the way they moved from the auditorium seats to backstage. Soon, they would warm up their voices, stretch their arms and legs, and head straight to their first position for the opening moments of the musical. Annie, played by Jenny, seemed especially laser-focused. When Lola’s eyes met hers, Jenny gave her only a firm nod in greeting, as though speaking anything out of character was a no-go for her.
Over the next three hours, Lola’s team hit the parts of the musical that they’d stumbled over on Wednesday. They ran and re-ran lines. They hit their marks, missed their marks, and then hit them again. The orchestra pit, a marvelous ensemble of local musicians, played the same bars of the same songs over and over again to allow the actors to fine-tune what they’d learned.
By the time six-thirty came around, Lola, Audrey, and Amanda exchanged stoic glances. It was time that they cut the rehearsals and send the crew backstage to get ready for the main show. Very soon, the ticket booth workers would arrive. Tables would be set up in the back hallways to sell refreshments like popcorn, pretzels, and large sodas. Parents would arrive extra early to get good seats so that they could take perfect photos of their children on stage. The Sheridan Clan alone would probably take up at least twelve to fifteen seats near the front, eliminating others’ chances of really stellar views. With Rachel, Gail, and Abby as orphans and Audrey, Amanda, and Lola as directors, they had a real right to see the production up close.
“That went really well, I think,” Amanda said as she went over her notes from the previous three hours of rehearsal. “I was surprised when Jenny hit that note perfectly.”
“I’m not,” Lola returned. “I have a feeling she spent all day yesterday with her mom at the piano, belting out song after song until she got it perfectly.”
“Meanwhile, all we did yesterday was play in the snow,” Audrey joked. “Poor girl. So much weight on her shoulders!”
“But she’s going to knock it out of the park,” Lola affirmed. “Gosh, I’m just so proud of everyone. It was a quick seven weeks, but we learned all we could over that time. I don’t know about you, but I feel like a different woman at the end of that seven weeks than I was at the beginning. It almost felt like working on this big production with this beautiful group of individuals taught me something about myself.”
Amanda and Audrey nodded.
“It makes me want to continue to be involved in something like this,” Audrey confessed. “To get to know these people and allow us to dig deeper into the Martha’s Vineyard community.”
“Maybe Max will play Oliver Twist on stage in a few years,” Amanda teased.
Audrey’s eyes watered with excitement. “He’ll be a star!”
“Uh oh. Stage Mom alert...” Amanda said with a roll of her eyes.
As the cousins teased one another, swapping gossip and discussing their boyfriends, Lola grabbed her phone to text Tommy. Apparently, he hadn’t been able to leave the mainland that morning, either, but planned to return the following morning. “I’ll be in time for Max’s birthday, the last night of the musical, and of course, Sunday’s big day.”
But when Lola turned her phone back on, she received a smattering of missed call notifications and text messages from her father, Susan, Christine, Lola, Zach, and Tommy.
SUSAN: Check the weather! The storm has shifted! Headed straight for the island!
CHRISTINE: Have you looked outside? It’s coming down fast...
ZACH: Hey! Christine says that this might be the last chance if you need someone to pick you up.
SCOTT: Missed call.
DAD: Hey honey! Are you safe out there? Did you start rehearsal already?
TOMMY: Missed call.
TOMMY: Missed call.
TOMMY: Babe, answer your phone.
Lola’s heart rammed against her ribcage. Abruptly, she rushed down the aisle and headed for the back hallway. Once there, a large floor-to-ceiling glass door opened out onto the parking lot. As it was past six-thirty and therefore already black with night, Lola couldn’t see far beyond the window. She could, however, see that already, in the previous three and a half hours, perhaps two feet of snow had been dumped on the snow that already remained outside. As she stared, thick globs of white snowflakes continued to fall down from the sky with no indication of letting up.
“Oh my gosh...” Lola breathed. She hustled for the door and blinked further out at the parking lot, where every single vehicle was buried deep within the white. She pressed a hand on the glass and exhaled all the air from her lungs. How had this happened? How had the storm shifted?
Lola turned back and walked down the hallway with her chin pointed toward the ground. The hallway seemed especially empty, as it was supposed to already be echoing with conversation from the parents who’d volunteered to set up ticket selling areas and drink and snack tables. Naturally, those parents hadn’t been able to drive to the auditorium to begin set-up. Everyone was latched away in their cozy houses across the island.
And Lola, Audrey, Amanda, and the rest of the cast and crew of Annie were stranded at the downtown auditorium, preparing for a show that wouldn’t go on.
When Lola returned to the auditorium, she found Amanda and Audrey still in an excited conversation about Noah and Sam.
“But he has this adorable habit where he snores once and then wakes himself up,” Amanda said excitedly. “He doesn’t know about it. It’s like my private joke.”
Audrey howled with laughter, pressing her hand against her stomach. However, when she lifted her eyes toward Lola’s, all the color drained from her cheeks. “Mom? What’s wrong? You look—”
Lola’s face was marred with panic. She pressed a hand across her forehead as the shock of the snow took hold of her.
“Aunt Lola? What’s wrong?” Amanda asked, her voice rasping.
“I just... I just looked outside...” Lola shook her head. “And there’s at least two feet more of snow outside. It came down so quickly. Nobody saw it coming. I’m sure everyone’s stranded in their homes.”
“What?” Audrey shrieked and rushed for the back hallway with Amanda hot on her heels. In a few minutes, they returned wearing their own sad-sack expressions. Audrey ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “I’ve never seen a blizzard like that.”
Amanda grabbed her phone to turn it on. After the screen lit up again, she announced, “Yep. Service is already down.”
“What?” Audrey cried, checking her phone immediately after. “Oh gosh. Mom.” Audrey’s eyes widened. “Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“I have to go tell everyone backstage,” Lola said. “I think everyone left their phones out here. They won’t know yet.”
Lola marched somberly backstage with Amanda and Audrey trailing directly behind her. As they walked, the roar of the cast and crew grew louder, more frenetic. The energy was like a circus. Little girls jumped around joyously, already wearing their little dresses for the orphanage scenes. Daddy Warbucks marched past, wearing his bald cap. Miss Hannigan grinned excitedly as Cecily, the costume director, perfected her makeup. Cora hadn’t looked so joyous in ages— a fact that twisted Lola’s gut. This was to be her debut after her husband’s death. This was to be her fresh start.
But it wasn’t going to happen.
“Everyone, please, can I have your attention,” Lola began from the center of the shadowy backstage area. “I have an announcement. And I’m sorry to say, but it’s not good news.”