Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set Gigi Blume (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖

I decided I was done worrying about it. I could hardly keep track of my own life.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Nora abandoned her taco to retrieve a smallish box from among the plethora of Lydia’s gifts. “This came for you.”

She handed me the package and sat down to her meal.

It was a simple brown box weighing hardly anything. I looked at the shipping label. One day express. No return address. Curious. I didn’t order anything online. I ran the edge of the kitchen shears over the packing tape and gingerly unfolded the flaps. Packing peanuts spilled on the counter as I reached in to find a smaller box with intricate designs embossed in gold. I recognized it immediately. The year bulb I left behind at Will’s house.

“What is it?” questioned Lydia impatiently. She was a sucker for delivered packages. Even when it was just vitamins.

“Oh,” I said absently. “Just something I accidentally left at a friend’s house.” I took the shipping box off the kitchen counter, careful to sweep the packing peanuts back into it, and headed to my bedroom.

“I’m just going to put it in a safe place. Be right back.”

Closing the door behind me, I sat on my bed and stared at the little box. Why did Will send it FedEx? Why couldn’t he hand it to me directly? Was this his way of cutting ties with me? We still had a six-week run ahead of us.

I opened the lid and ran my fingers over the silk lining. I was almost afraid to take the ornament out of its snug little bed. It had to be so fragile. Like me. How did I get to this point in life? Delicate and so easily broken—in love with a man completely out of my league.

Something caught my eye amidst the packing peanuts. A small, red envelope with the initials W.M.D. gilded in a script font. How many types of stationary did that man have?

Will with a quill strikes again.

With a measure of trepidation, I opened the envelope. I feared the words inside. What would they say?

Have a nice life? Goodbye and good riddance? The lyrics to I Don’t Ever Want to See You Again from the musical Dance a Little Closer? Or We Do Not Belong Together from Sunday in the Park with George?

I took a brave breath and let my eyes fall over the handwritten lettering. Straight and precise. All neatly written caps except his signature.

SOMETHING ELSE YOU LEFT BEHIND.

-Will

Something else? What else did I leave there? My soiled dress? Was he upset I left it soaking in the bathroom sink? He could throw it away if it bothered him. I didn’t even realize my eyes were wet until the salt from a single tear reached the corner of my mouth. Gross.

I closed the box and shoved all the contents of the package under my bed. There was no sense in letting it bother me at this point. Also, tacos. My tummy hurt from hunger.

I was a new Beth with a new life, I decided. A life brimming with possibilities and opportunities. A life in New York with my bestie. What did I have to lose? I would take Jane up on her offer to share an overpriced studio apartment in Manhattan while she dazzled the audiences of Broadway, and I hit the pavement at four in the morning to stand in audition lines. It doesn’t get much more glamorous than that.

When I returned to the kitchen, Jane and Bing were sitting at the table, feeding each other nachos.

Gag me.

Ten minutes ago, they were having a cry-fest in the parking lot. I was so over the whole world.

“So, did you guys finally figure it out?” I realized my tone came off as jaded. I didn’t care. Soon, we’d be rid of this drama. And I was determined to finally get my taco. Jane shared a conspiring glance at Bing as I leaned over them to grab my share of the meal. They giggled, looked from one another’s glowing faces to me, and blurted, “We’re getting married.”

31

Take Heart, Take Mine

Beth

Perhaps it was opening-night jitters. Or maybe it was the hailstorm of insanity my life had become. One minute, it was Jane and Beth take on Manhattan. The next minute, she was setting up her engagement website. Her theme was white gothic. Whatever that meant. But as I walked into the stage door Wednesday afternoon, I knew it was neither the opening-night jitters nor Jane that had me in knots. It was five words.

Something else you left behind.

It made me sad and confused and frustrated. And frankly, a little angry. Why so cryptic? I knocked on Will’s dressing room door, but he didn’t answer. I must have arrived before him, so I took The Hobbit out of my bag and placed it on his vanity. I thought about leaving my own cryptic note but decided it was too much effort. So, I left without getting to say, ‘thanks for sending the ornament’ or ‘break a leg’ or ‘what the heck did you mean by something else?’

I took my time getting ready, applying my makeup just right, pinning my hair for the wig cap, steaming my voice. As more cast arrived, the dressing rooms became more clamorous. A few cast members pranked one another in various ways, so backstage was all screaming and laughing. It was hard for me to find my pre-show zen.

At least I was lucky to share a dressing room with Jane. Not only was she a lot more mellow than the ensemble, she got ready in record time, so she could spend as much time as possible with Bing prior to curtain.

The assistant stage manager passed all the dressing rooms, tapping on the doors.

“Fifteen minutes.” His voice boomed through the hallways.

“Thank you, fifteen,” I responded. I looked in the mirror and silently gave myself a pep talk.

You’re the girl with the lanyard.

Another knock sounded