“But ... I don’t know anything about doing costumes for a show.”
“The ones forOklahomawon’t be too hard. Most of the guys should be able to put outfits together from their own wardrobes. The women’s costumes will be more challenging, but they wore simple clothes back then like gingham dresses and long skirts and blouses. It’s not as if we have to create ball gowns. Your job would be more coordinating the effort and possibly sewing a few simple pieces. Plus, it’s for a worthwhile cause.”
Lauren set her fork down. “I’m all for supporting Helping Hands, but I don’t know if I have the stamina to take this on. You know how fast I get tired.”
“It’s not a full-time job, and we have seven weeks to pull the costumes together. None of them have to be ready until the last week of rehearsal. I don’t think this would take more than an hour a day. And having something like this to work on might help you get your concentration skills back faster. It could be a win-win.” Perhaps positioning it like that would convince Lauren to take it on. “Would you think about it at least?”
Her sister bit her lip. “How soon do you need an answer?”
“By Thursday. We have to have somebody on board by then, and if you decide not to do it, we’ll have to strong-arm one of the costume committee volunteers to step up and take charge. But no one’s champing at the bit to do that. Most of them have jobs or other responsibilities. You’re the ideal person to take this on, since your days are your own right now.”
“Not for long, I hope. I want to get back to work as soon as possible.”
“Dr. Sherman said it will probably be early July before she’ll feel comfortable signing off on a part-time return. That’s three weeks away. A ton of the work on costumes could get done by then.”
Lauren poked at her lasagna while Devyn held her breath. Itwasn’t the end of the world if she said no, but interacting with other people could lift her spirits and speed up her recovery.
“I’ll sleep on it, okay?”
At least it wasn’t an outright no.
“That works.” Devyn dived back into her lasagna.
“Why don’t you give me some background on the show and the cast?”
“Sure.” She began with the auditions, eliciting a few laughs as she recounted Father Murphy’s antics. Brought Lauren up to speed on the first cast meeting. “Everyone is very enthusiastic about the effort, and we have all ages in the show—including an older man and his granddaughter.”
“Do you remember their names?”
“Yes. Isabel and Ben Steele.”
“Oh, I know them. Was Aaron there too?”
She ignored the little flutter in her stomach as an image of the tall, dark-haired man who’d accompanied the two hopeful thespians appeared in her mind. “I didn’t meet an Aaron, but there was a man with them at the auditions. And he sat in on the cast meeting Sunday too.”
“That had to be him. The three of them have been uber tight since Aaron’s wife was killed in a car accident last year.”
A jolt of shock ricocheted through her.
The man’s wife was dead?
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah, it is. Divorce is hard enough. I can’t imagine having a spouse you love die. It has to be rough for Isabel too. But from what I hear and observe, Aaron is a great dad. He didn’t audition, did he?”
“No.”
Devyn toyed with the last of her lasagna, debating. As long as they were on the subject, could she ferret out a bit more information about the man? Just to make conversation, of course. No personal interest involved.
It was worth a try.
“What does Isabel’s dad do for a living?” She kept her manner casual. Chitchatty.
“He works at the mill.”
Not unusual. A fair number of Hope Harbor residents were employed there. And a job like that would account for his toned physique.
She scooped up the last of her lasagna. “I vaguely remember a Steele family from when I lived here.”
