“But it’s true, Aunt Bobbie. I saw the performance of West Side Story last fall, remember? Mayor McQuade’s strawberry-blond, freckled daughter Joannie played Maria. No way did she look Puerto Rican—and the poor girl couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag.”
“Couldn’t sing worth a flip, either,” Caleb muttered. “Sounded like a cat with its tail caught in a wringer. It was all I could do to sit through the whole show—and that was only because Bobbie had a death grip on my arm to keep me from leaving.”
“Mrs. Lynch cast the popular, socially prominent kids back when I was in high school,” Trevor agreed bluntly. “Everyone always knew who would have the best roles—and they were rarely the best qualified.”
Jamie nodded somberly. “You never saw me hold the lead role at good ol’ HHS, did you?”
Trevor thought he heard a touch of old resentment in her voice.
“I was always lucky to get a few lines,” she continued, “even though Mrs. Lynch told me several times that she thought I had real talent.”
Wade, who’d moved to Honoria only a couple of years earlier, looked startled. “If she thought you had talent, how did she justify not giving you better roles?”
Jamie shrugged, and Trevor suspected there was a world of emotion hidden behind her matter-of-fact tone. “She said she would face too much controversy if she tried to buck the established system. She was afraid it would cut into her contributions and jeopardize her ability to fund her productions. She knew my folks wouldn’t put up a fuss if I was slighted—unlike, say, the O’Briens or some of the other local society leaders.”
Wade scowled. “Sounds like it was long past time for her to retire.”
“She did the best she could,” Bobbie said in defense of her colleague. “You know how difficult it can be to challenge the established order, Wade. You’ve had your share of criticism because you refuse to look the other way when some of the richer folks bend a few laws.”
“The laws aren’t any different for people with money than they are for people without,” Wade said flatly.
Emily looked speculatively at Jamie. “I hear you’re planning to do Grease in the spring. You know Joannie McQuade’s going to demand the role of Sandy.”
“None of my students will ‘demand’ a role—they’ll audition,” Jamie asserted. “If they’re good, they’ll get a part. If they show potential, I’ll work with them until they’re ready. If they show no glimmer of talent, I’ll let them be extras, or assign them other responsibilities. There are a lot of interesting jobs in theater besides acting—lighting, set design and construction, sound, publicity, costumes, stage management.”
“You’d make Joannie McQuade an extra?” Wide-eyed, Emily shook her head. “Her mother will be at the school to try to get you fired before you can say, ‘Cut!”’
Trevor noted that Jamie didn’t look notably intimidated. “I’ve spent seven years working in New York. I can handle Charlotte McQuade.”
Emily made a balancing gesture with her hands. “A city full of New Yorkers,” she said, lowering one hand. “Charlotte McQuade,” she continued, lowering the other. After considering it a moment, she shook her head wryly. “It’s a close call, which is actually scarier.”
“I’m sure Jamie can handle herself,” Trevor commented.
The quick look she shot him expressed her appreciation—and perhaps a touch of surprise?
“I’m going to kindergarten,” Sam announced to Jamie.
“In the fall, you mean?” she asked encouragingly. He nodded.
“Are you excited?”
“I’m sort of scared,” the boy admitted.
Trevor was a bit surprised. Sam didn’t often share his feelings, especially with people he didn’t know well. But he didn’t usually take to new people as quickly as he had to Jamie, either.
“Don’t be scared about school,” Jamie encouraged. “For the most part, school is fun. Why else would I want to go back as a teacher?”
“Will you be my teacher?”
Jamie smiled and smoothed Sam’s fair hair. “Not for a few years yet, Sammy. But whoever you get for a teacher, I’m sure you’ll have a great year.”
Trevor watched in resignation as his son fell a little deeper in love.
4
LATER THAT EVENING, the adults sat in the den, drinking coffee and talking while the children vied for attention. Sitting again on the couch beside Trevor, Jamie smiled at Abbie, then was surprised when the little girl reached out to her. Jamie obligingly took the toddler into her lap. Abbie immediately snatched for the heavy silver pendant Jamie wore.
“No, Abbie,” Trevor said, reaching out to stop her. “You’ll break it.”