was doing the same from the other side. Gertie and Frances would follow two beats later. Not that Vi could hear their shoe taps, given the roaring wave of cheers and whistles that greeted them.
Elation, sweet and electric, lit up her veins, making her feet light as air. Unable to help herself, Vi winked at Marcie as they met in the middle. Marcie wobbled a smile back, and then all four of the chorus girls turned toward the audience.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She had seen plenty of audiences, from farmers in overalls to old women in their Sunday best, from young children to rough-edged workers fresh from the docks. She had gladly performed in front of them all. But never had she seen anything so moving as this: a veritable wall of khaki men, some sitting two to a chair, others standing, and still others clinging to the side of the packed bleachers.
Only experience kept her feet moving to the beat, her smile in place, as she drank the sight in.
She’d had no idea so many soldiers would attend. They must have come from miles around just to see this modest little musical that honestly would have never even made it off-Broadway—though she would never tell Mr. Stuart that. It humbled her. And inspired her. And suddenly she wanted to never do anything but dance her heart out for these boys, these men who were throwing so much love her way. She wanted to return it all in equal measure. She wanted to give them more.
The second act flew by as smooth as butterscotch. Vi had peeked around the curtain to watch the soldiers leaning forward in their seats. In the reflected stage light, their faces revealed their total absorption. They shouted their opinions with increasing enthusiasm to Ann when she sang about how she couldn’t decide between Charlie or Matt, fame or family, success or true love. They hissed when Luciana, playing the part of the jealous diva, schemed to ruin Ann. And, of course, they cheered when Vi and the other chorus girls returned to the stage for their second dance number.
Mr. Stuart positively beamed as he took in the action onstage and the audience’s reactions to it. Maybe the show would prove a hit, after all. Vi hoped so. She had nothing but love and respect for the man in this moment.
Everyone’s spirits were running high backstage as the third act opened. Everything pointed to an unmitigated success as the play unspooled toward the climactic scene. And then disaster struck. As Luciana strode across the stage, her character gesturing wildly in a high dudgeon, her foot apparently caught on an uneven board. Her eyes widened as she tried to catch her balance. Victor noticed first and rushed toward her, but it was too late. Luciana landed in an ungraceful heap at Victor’s feet.
A confused silence settled over the audience as Luciana’s glassy, pain-filled eyes glanced up at Sue offstage, begging for help. Vi winced as Wyatt’s voice came through Sue’s headphones, loud enough for everyone around her to overhear. But mostly her heart went out to Luciana.
It was every actor’s nightmare, to be caught onstage out of character.
Even Mr. Stuart paled as the action onstage froze, the actors unsure what to do. Vi thought fast. Luciana’s next lines were the setup for Ann’s character’s decision to go home. Vi knew the lines, having heard them enough times to memorize them: “You want success, you’ve got to be willing to sell your soul . . .”
Improvising on the fly, Vi grabbed Sue’s playbook, earning a shocked look from Sue, and dashed onto the stage. Portraying boundless enthusiasm, and still in her dance costume, she flourished the playbook as she ran toward the fallen Luciana.
“Miss Diablo, I’m so glad I found you! I read your memoir and wanted to tell you I’m so inspired! I’m ready for stardom. I’m ready to do whatever it takes, just like you advised. Even if it means selling a piece of my soul . . .” Vi glanced pointedly at Ann, willing her to take the cue.
Ann hesitated for what felt like an eternity, though it was likely no more than a second. Then, God love her, she picked up the tossed bone and declared that she wasn’t prepared to make that same sacrifice. She would rather know true love than be famous.
Victor followed suit, smoothly delivering his lines like the old pro that he was while he knelt to help Luciana up.