“Bea has something to show you.”
“Oh, hey, Bea. What’s up?” Zale asked.
Reluctantly, and with much mumbling and blushing, Bea explained her sketch to Zale. As I predicted, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Are you serious? Do you think we can really make these?”
“We need some more supplies, but yeah, I really think we can,” I said. “Bea’s gonna do the painting, and Eva and I will add these details to the costumes. Do you think the Meyers family would let us dig around for some more stuff to borrow?”
“Probably,” Zale said. “We could text Luca and see if…”
At that moment, a door to the left of the stage opened, and Veronica Meyers stepped through it, a ring of keys in her hand.
“Oh, hello, Wren.”
“Hello, Ms?—”
“Veronica, please,” she said with a smile. “Ms. Meyers always makes me feel like I’m turning into my mother. What are you… oh, that’s right, of course. You’re helping with the pageant. You mentioned that when we met. I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“Yeah, and we were actually wondering if it might be possible to borrow a few more things? Bea came up with some awesome designs, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to pull them off with what we’ve got.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?” Veronica asked, smiling down at Bea.
Bea did not return the smile. She seemed to have retreated into herself, reverting to the shyness that had caused her to hide under the table the first time we’d met. Bea took half a step behind Eva, looking very much like she would like the floor to swallow her up. I guessed she hadn’t expected she would need to share her artwork with so many people, and certainly not with a stranger. I tried to catch her eye, to give her an encouraging smile, but she just kept looking warily at Veronica.
Eva sighed impatiently. “Sorry, she’s a bit on the bashful side. Here,” and she plucked the sketchbook from Zale’s hand, and held it out for Veronica to see.
Bea took a step forward, like she meant to snatch the sketchbook back; but she restrained herself, swinging her hands behind her back, and clasping them tightly together.
“My goodness, what a talented young lady you are,” Veronica said, looking down at the sketch. “Did you really come up with this all on your own?”
Bea nodded her head once, tensely. “I’ve seen that pageant lots of times,” she said.
Veronica smiled gently. “Of course, you have. And you realized that what it needed was a healthy dose of childhood imagination. Not that you’re a child anymore, of course,” she added quickly. “I can see that you are, in fact, quite the grown young lady now.”
Bea’s lips twitched into the suggestion of a smile, and Veronica’s smile broadened, recognizing her victory.
“Now, as I told Wren, I’ve spent very little time here at the theater,” Veronica went on. “But as I’m here this summer, I’ve made it my business to get to know the place. In fact, I’ve spent quite a bit of time in our costume shop as they prepare for the coming season, and I think we might have just what you need. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Zale’s face lit up, and we all turned to follow Veronica up the aisle toward the front lobby of the theater. “Take five, everyone,” Zale called. “And for the love of the goddess, try not to kill each other.”
“No promises,” Ethan shouted, as he took another lunge at Sergei on his stilts.
Veronica led us on her clacking heels out of the main theater, and through the front doors, to the first building that stood to the right of the theater.
“I think you’ll find everything you need in here,” she said, as she unlocked the door. “This is where the costumes are designed and constructed.”
We walked into a huge space full of bolts of fabric, racks of trims and ribbons, cutting tables and sewing machines, and a long row of dress forms standing at attention like half-dressedsoldiers. One wall was hung with rows of design sketches, each accented with swatches of fabric pinned to the corner. Another wall was covered in wooden pegs from which hats and headpieces of every variety hung above several rows of wig heads, bearing every hairstyle I could imagine, from every conceivable time period. My very first thought, as I took it all in, was that if Charlie could see this place, they would squeal with uncontainable delight, like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Wow,” I whispered.
Veronica smiled, looking pleased. “This was always my favorite place to come when I was a little girl. I think I liked it better than watching the performances,” she admitted. “Now let’s see if I remember where… ah, yes. Here we go.” She opened a large cabinet to reveal hundreds of jars of craft and fabric paints, bottles of glue, cans of spray glitter, and all manner of craft supplies. “I imagine this should be sufficient to get you started.”
“Wow!” Zale murmured, and started toward the cabinet. I reached out an arm to stop him.
“This is amazing,” I said, “and we’re so grateful; but I really wouldn’t want to use up anything that the designers will need for the current season.”
“That won’t be a problem. Just write down what you use here,” Veronica said, handing me a clipboard, “and I’ll make sure it’s replaced.”
