surprise, as most of the time she was Officer van Hest of the Wicks Hollow Police Department.
The joy of watching their interplay was so comfortable and familiar that Vivien couldn’t hold back a huge grin. She was just so glad to be back in Wicks Hollow—even though there was a dearth of carry-out options and no delivery service except for pizza. (She’d asked about DoorDash and whether she could get an Uber home from the Roost, and Helga had gone into fits of laughter. “The only ride home you might get from the bar is if you get your pal the cop to pick you up,” Helga had hooted.)
Nonetheless, Vivien hoped, hoped, hoped everything was going to work out with the theater so she could stay. At least with her temporary rental—off the beaten tourist path and a deal, since the lease went through the end of the year and not just for summer; plus it belonged to a friend of Orbra’s who’d done her a favor—Vivien’s cost of living would be less than a third of what it had been in Manhattan.
“Why can’t I play Elaine Harper?” grumbled Maxine. “I’d be perfect as Mortimer’s love interest. That boy Baxter is fine.”
Helga choked on her chai latte. “But you’re fifty years older than he is—”
“Typecasting, remember?” Vivien interrupted swiftly and soothingly. “Even though it’s not spoken, we just know Abby Brewster is the mastermind behind the whole scheme, and—”
“That’s age discrimination, you know,” Maxine shot back at Helga, her voice rising into a familiar screech. “And I’ve had enough discrimination in my life being a Black female scientist—you know, I was thinking, they coulda made that Hidden Figures movie about me—”
“You’re loco, Maxine. You’re a chemical engineer, not a computer whiz, and that movie was about space and mathematics,” said Juanita, but her friend just talked right over her as usual.
“—and why can’t Vivien be creative like that Lynda-Miranda Miguel person? He didn’t care about no ages or skin color or—”
“Maxine, you’re going to be absolutely brilliant as Abby Brewster,” said Vivien, using her firm, capable PR/handler voice—the one she’d perfected dealing with some of the biggest Broadway stars back in New York, including Louise London. “And besides, Abby’s a much larger part than Elaine Harper. Everyone in Wicks Hollow is going to love seeing the town matriarch in one of the lead roles, you know.”
Maxine pursed her lips and considered the (figurative) carrot Vivien was dangling in front of her.
And so Vivien decided to put a little butter and brown sugar glaze on that carrot. “You know, you might be the oldest person to ever play Abby Brewster—that would probably get a lot of coverage for our little semi-amateur theater production here in Wicks Hollow. I’ll make sure to include that in the press releases.” One thing Vivien knew was that Maxine was not only open about her advanced age, she was proud of it.
“And besides…as Mortimer’s aunt, you probably get to give him at least one kiss on the cheek—that’s more than Elaine gets to do,” Vivien said with a sly grin.
“That’s more like it,” said Maxine. “All right, then, you’ve got yourself an Abby—she’s the bossy one, right?”
“Yes,” Juanita snapped. “Vivien said it was typecasting—didn’t you hear her?” She wiped her dimpled fingers on a napkin, showing off the screaming red fingernail polish that matched her lipstick—both of which clashed wildly with her flame-orange hair, which poofed into a mushroom-cloud-like shape over the crown of her head. She was wearing her normal attire of a flowing maxi-dress—this one tie-dyed in countless shades of blue. At least that didn’t clash.
Vivien was itching to cast Juanita as Mrs. Potts—it would be a different take, with her being Latina instead of properly British, but that was the joy of being in charge. Unfortunately, the rights to Beauty and the Beast were a little out of reach for the first year of her production schedule. Maybe the Fairy Godmother in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella?
So many possibilities, but her plan was to have at least one production per season include locals from the town acting alongside whatever celebrities she could bring in for a short run. It would be a fun way to involve the community while keeping the productions high-quality.
“I get to be the other sister. Martha,” Juanita said.
“Martha—the fluttery one,” said Maxine dismissively. “Definite typecasting.”
“And what about the rest of the characters?” asked Orbra before Juanita could retort. The tea shop proprietress was a tall, large-boned Dutch woman of seventy