the cast turned back to Francesca, the director dropped the friendly persona and scowled at each of them, her eyes moving over them the way they had over the hundred girls who had tried out with Bailey. “Now … I was at the show over the weekend … I know, I know … I didn’t tell you I’d be there. But when you sang “Welcome to the Sixties,” I felt like you wanted me to leave!” her voice boomed through the rehearsal space. “I absolutely did not feel welcome, because none of you — that’s right none of you — looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
Bailey smothered a smile behind her hand. Her friend Tim Reed was dating a girl who used to be in the Hairspray cast, and a few months ago when Bailey had auditioned, the girl had warned her. Francesca was very, very difficult to work for. But Bailey liked that she demanded perfection. How many directors would tell a cast of professional singers and dancers that they hadn’t looked like they were enjoying themselves? Not many, Bailey figured. That’s what set Francesca apart from the others. And it was why she was grateful she’d be starting her Broadway career here under the critical but careful hand of Ms. Tilly.
The director was explaining that the number should be so fun, people will have to hold back from jumping into the aisles and dancing along. “That’s the sort of welcome we want people to feel when they watch this number. Like they’ve just been reintroduced into the era of the sixties, and they wish with every heartbeat they could get on stage and join you.”
They watched for nearly an hour, and Bailey soaked in every correction, every bit of direction Francesca gave them. Being here was good. She would come to her first rehearsal that much more prepared. Finally, Bailey’s mom gave her a gentle nudge, and Bailey stood. The driver would be waiting. Besides, it was time to meet her new landlords, Bob and Betty Keller. Bailey followed her mother to the car, which was already waiting out front.
“That was amazing.” Her mom’s look was part exhaustion, part nervousness. “I can’t imagine performing in front of her.”
“It’ll be fun.” Bailey slid into the backseat and made room for her mom to join her. “She only wants everyone to be better.”
“But the way she does it … I’d be crying in ten minutes.”
Bailey laughed, imagining Francesca’s reaction if one of her dancers broke into tears. “I don’t think you’d work long on Broadway.”
“You got that right.” Her mom pulled a folder from her purse and gave the driver the address for the Kellers'. “We’re running a little early … but they’re expecting us.”
This time they tipped the driver as he helped unload their suitcases from the back of the car. The hotel was only eight blocks from the Kellers’ house. They really hadn’t needed a driver that morning, if it weren’t for their heavy bags. Bailey was glad the Hairspray producers had provided one, for that reason alone. Once the car pulled away, Bailey spotted a man selling roses not far down the street. “Let’s buy some. For Betty.”
“Good idea.” Her mom pulled two suitcases, while Bailey pulled the other two, and they walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the crowded street until they reached the florist. They bought yellow roses and then headed to the apartment building where the Kellers lived. A doorman stood at the entrance, and when they explained who they were, he buzzed the Kellers and welcomed them into the lobby. Bailey’s mom whispered to her, “I like that they have security.”
Bailey smiled to herself, grateful to God. She had worried about how safe she would be in New York, and prayed to leave the matter in the Lord’s hands. And now here He had answered her prayers abundantly. Not only was she safe, but completely taken care of. They wheeled the suitcases into the elevator, rode it to the eleventh floor, and as they stepped off, a pretty white-haired woman was waiting for them.
“You must be Bailey and Jenny.” Her smile filled her face and she held out her hands. First she hugged Jenny, then Bailey. “Aren’t you the prettiest thing?” She stepped back, her hands still on Bailey’s shoulders. “You’ll be marvelous on that Hairspray stage.” She looked back at Jenny. “Come on … I have lunch ready, and Bob’s setting the table.”
Bailey handed the roses to the woman. “These are for you. Thank you