I roll my eyes to myself. I haven’t listened to a single voicemail since the calls started pouring in. All the unknown-numbered texts get immediately deleted.
Hazel (10:34 AM):It was a travel magazine.
Logan (10:34 AM):Ah. The “love story for the ages” people?
I had forgotten Logan was actually checking his messages.
Hazel (10:35 AM):And theTodayshow.
Logan (10:34 AM):I’m kinda jealous of Future Us. Think we should give the disguises another go?
A buzz of energy surges through me. It’s like I’m having a sugar rush, even though I haven’t had any candy yet today.
I think if we push our luck one too many times, we’re bound to be found out,I text, practicality winning.
The typing bubble bounces and stops a few times.
You’re probably right. Shouldn’t chance it, he finally writes back.
I send a thumbs-up and tell him I need to get back to work. The rest of the afternoon is pretty much my dream work scenario. We serve candy, talk about candy, and eat candy. Passcards get stamped. Customers tag us on social media. I observe them up close andpersonal to better understand their behaviors. To listen closely to the kinds of questions they’re asking.
Every hour, more ideas sprout from the corners of my brain. We can pair up with a chip company for a play on salty and sweet. Or we could do a joint event with a popcorn brand at outdoor film screenings in the park. We can offer gingerbread houses to decorate at Christmastime.
Between rushes, I sample flavors of Worldly Scoops’ ice cream and imagine myself in those faraway places. Being surrounded by sweets that are more well-traveled than I am makes me hungry for something I’ve never had.
It’s freeing, this type of dreaming. It makes me curious again. I feel that same sense of adventure I had when I first moved to the city. As mango jam lights up my taste buds, I imagine myself in Japan, France, Italy, Sweden, and Iceland.
In every destination, Logan’s right there with me.
Chapter 16
LOGAN
Dress rehearsal starts next week, and we’re nowhere near having the stage ready. The mechanical pieces still aren’t rolling on and off their marks properly. My notepad with the set designer’s feedback has gone missing. And now the HR controller is insisting that the new automated payroll system be in Excel with a safety measure and countermeasure process that has only led to payroll mistakes. I’m convinced HR gets off on messing with us on purpose.
Earlier, Richie sent me a meme of a dog sitting in a chair in a room that’s on fire with the wordsThis is fine. It captured what this entire show has felt like.
I slam my laptop shut, letting my mind take me back to Hazel’s birthday. It felt like we were in our own little world. Reality felt so far away. That’s how it’s always felt with Hazel, but maybe that’s because most of what we’ve experienced together has been surreal.
“You got a visitor,” Richie says behind me.
I run my hand down my face. “If it’s Frank’s team again, tell them we need our sidewalk today—”
“Okay, okay. You can have the sidewalk,” Hazel’s voice says behind me.
I spin around, tucking my pencil behind my ear. Despiteeverything that’s gone wrong already today, I can’t stop the ridiculous grin that forms every time I see her.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “We set up a temporary woodshop on the sidewalk when it gets too crowded in here. Sometimes it’s a battle with the other theater crews.”
“Geez,” Richie cuts in. “Can I get a smile like that every now and then? Hey, Joe had an idea for how we could get the sparklers to go off without catching fire.” He explains something involving way too much fireproofing spray.
After having started one fire already, I’m weary. “I don’t know if that’ll work.”
Richie looks surprised. “You got a different idea?”
“No.” It’s a shit answer, but it’s all I’ve got. I don’t know what else to do or try. Nothing seems to work. I fix one problem, and another pops up.
“Okayyy, well, take some time to think on it. I’m sure you’ve got a couple ideas somewhere in there,” Richie says, tapping on his own head. He waves bye to Hazel. To everyone else backstage, he tells them to take thirty, and the place clears out. Over his shoulder, he shouts to me, “Don’t forget, you owe me fifty bucks!”
