where that fellow is from.”
“Where?”
“The suburbs.”
“The suburbs?”
“Strange breed of people.”
“They dress like that?”
“They’re as senseless with their fashion as they are with their cars and houses. The last time I checked, there wasn’t a need for more bathrooms than you have people in your house.”
“So that’s a suburbanite.”
“Things are changing, Rich. You can smell it in the air. If I’m lucky, I’ll die in this decade before I see the robots take over our town.” He sighed heavily. “Margaret loves all this. She can’t stay out of that stupid bookstore. She claims she’s drawn to the sofa. I say, ‘Margaret, we got a big honkin’ sofa in our own home!’ It doesn’t seem to matter. A sofa surrounded by books apparently is a better sofa.” He stared across the street. “And now we got that!” He pointed to the cell phone store, where a few people mingled outside, looking into the windows. “Lord have mercy is all I have to say.”
Suddenly the two men noticed Katelyn listening in on their conversation.
“That’s another one,” cigar-man whispered. “That kind of blond doesn’t come naturally on God’s green earth.”
“It won’t be long now,” the other one said. “Pretty soon, all the suburbanites will take over our town.”
Katelyn folded her arms and huffed away. For their information, Skary, Indiana, was not destined to be a suburb. It was far too remote to be a suburb. It was, in fact, destined to be an X-burb. But of course,these two men were too closeminded to care what that was. Or the potential this wonderful town had to offer.
She swung her shearling handbag over her shoulder and walked past the men with a dismissive flounce.
Now, where had she parked her Suburban?
It wasn’t the cast of
Shakespeare in Love
, but she was pretty sure she could manage this group of people into some sort of interesting dramatics. The closest any one of them had come to actually being in a play was Martin, who had understudied in
The Lion in Winter in
college. But his prayers for the lead to grow ill or break a leg were not granted, and therefore he’d never actually performed in front of an audience.
“But,” he assured her on their date, “I knew my lines perfectly. I feel confident about my abilities.”
Lois had never seen this side of Martin before. She knew him only to be the fumbling sidekick and trailing shadow of Mayor Wullisworth. At dinner, he was quite charming, and though he wasn’t really her type, she’d managed to say yes at his insistence they go out together again.
However, Lois also couldn’t deny her attraction to the sheriff, who, to her surprise, had shown up on time to rehearsal, and even sounded enthusiastic about the fact that his role had grown larger.
She’d passed out pictures of the set design and copies of the rehearsal schedule and the newly revised play.
“Does anyone have any questions before we begin our read-through?” Lois asked.
Mariée raised her hand. “What kind of wardrobe am I going to have?”
“Yes, thank you for asking that question, Marlee. It’s an important one. For most of the play, you will be wearing jeans that are too tight around the waist, several different logo sweatshirts, and your hair will always need to be tied back in a bun because you decided to do layers and it backfired.”
Marlee looked disappointed. “Won’t I have a gown?” A gown?
“I am the love interest. Surely I get to dress up at some point, right?”
“Oh. Right. Well, we’ll discuss that at a later date, but I’m probably going to go with a black pantsuit that was fashionable back in the sixties but is all I—she—can afford.”
“I’ve actually got a great dress from my prom night a few years—”
“Who’s the director here?” Sorry.
“Listen, folks. This isn’t about you. You’re going to have to enter into these roles, play these characters. It’s going to take some stretching; you’re
“Where?”
“The suburbs.”
“The suburbs?”
“Strange breed of people.”
“They dress like that?”
“They’re as senseless with their fashion as they are with their cars and houses. The last time I checked, there wasn’t a need for more bathrooms than you have people in your house.”
“So that’s a suburbanite.”
“Things are changing, Rich. You can smell it in the air. If I’m lucky, I’ll die in this decade before I see the robots take over our town.” He sighed heavily. “Margaret loves all this. She can’t stay out of that stupid bookstore. She claims she’s drawn to the sofa. I say, ‘Margaret, we got a big honkin’ sofa in our own home!’ It doesn’t seem to matter. A sofa surrounded by books apparently is a better sofa.” He stared across the street. “And now we got that!” He pointed to the cell phone store, where a few people mingled outside, looking into the windows. “Lord have mercy is all I have to say.”
Suddenly the two men noticed Katelyn listening in on their conversation.
“That’s another one,” cigar-man whispered. “That kind of blond doesn’t come naturally on God’s green earth.”
“It won’t be long now,” the other one said. “Pretty soon, all the suburbanites will take over our town.”
Katelyn folded her arms and huffed away. For their information, Skary, Indiana, was not destined to be a suburb. It was far too remote to be a suburb. It was, in fact, destined to be an X-burb. But of course,these two men were too closeminded to care what that was. Or the potential this wonderful town had to offer.
She swung her shearling handbag over her shoulder and walked past the men with a dismissive flounce.
Now, where had she parked her Suburban?
It wasn’t the cast of
Shakespeare in Love
, but she was pretty sure she could manage this group of people into some sort of interesting dramatics. The closest any one of them had come to actually being in a play was Martin, who had understudied in
The Lion in Winter in
college. But his prayers for the lead to grow ill or break a leg were not granted, and therefore he’d never actually performed in front of an audience.
“But,” he assured her on their date, “I knew my lines perfectly. I feel confident about my abilities.”
Lois had never seen this side of Martin before. She knew him only to be the fumbling sidekick and trailing shadow of Mayor Wullisworth. At dinner, he was quite charming, and though he wasn’t really her type, she’d managed to say yes at his insistence they go out together again.
However, Lois also couldn’t deny her attraction to the sheriff, who, to her surprise, had shown up on time to rehearsal, and even sounded enthusiastic about the fact that his role had grown larger.
She’d passed out pictures of the set design and copies of the rehearsal schedule and the newly revised play.
“Does anyone have any questions before we begin our read-through?” Lois asked.
Mariée raised her hand. “What kind of wardrobe am I going to have?”
“Yes, thank you for asking that question, Marlee. It’s an important one. For most of the play, you will be wearing jeans that are too tight around the waist, several different logo sweatshirts, and your hair will always need to be tied back in a bun because you decided to do layers and it backfired.”
Marlee looked disappointed. “Won’t I have a gown?” A gown?
“I am the love interest. Surely I get to dress up at some point, right?”
“Oh. Right. Well, we’ll discuss that at a later date, but I’m probably going to go with a black pantsuit that was fashionable back in the sixties but is all I—she—can afford.”
“I’ve actually got a great dress from my prom night a few years—”
“Who’s the director here?” Sorry.
“Listen, folks. This isn’t about you. You’re going to have to enter into these roles, play these characters. It’s going to take some stretching; you’re
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