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I sighed and poured myself a fresh cup of coffee. If there was anything good about being banished from the theater, it was that I wasn’t going to have to watch the train jump the tracks.

THIRTY TWO

I spent the rest of the morning finishing up the Snow White program. I wanted it done and off my plate so I wouldn’t have to worry about it any longer. My goal was to be free of everything tied to the play, other than watching my girls in the performance.

If I was allowed into the theater.

I finished it, called the printer and let them know I was emailing them the design. We went over the particulars again and the man on the phone assured me he could get the programs done on time and they’d look great. I gave him Joanne’s contact info and told him to let her know when they were done, that she’d arrange pickup and payment. He thanked me and I hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. Done.

With that finished, I headed to the grocery store. With six mouths to feed in our house, I spent nearly as much time at the store as I did in our own home. It didn’t matter if I found everything on my list and brought it all home. We always needed more of something or something different. I’d often joked to Jake that we’d be better served owning our own farm.

I was turning out of the baking aisle and heading for the cereal, staring at my list on my phone, when I bumped carts with another shopper.

I looked up.

Eleanor Bandersand was behind the other cart, frowning at me. Her hair was piled on top of her head and large gold hoop earring dangled from her ears. Her false eyelashes looked more blue than black today, their color eerily similar to the eyeshadow dusting her eyelids. A thick pearl choker encircled her neck and it looked to be a centimeter away from cutting off her circulation.

I didn’t think that would altogether be a bad thing.

“Good afternoon, Daisy,” she said, lifting her chin and gazing down at me.

“Eleanor,” I said. “Sorry. I was reading my list.”

“Yes, I see that,” she said, her frown deepening.

We stood there awkwardly for a moment and then I maneuvered the cart around her. “See you later.”

“Well, probably not,” she said with a chuckle, her red lips curving into a sardonic smile.

I froze. “What did you say?”

If possible, she tilted her chin even higher, her eyes even buggier than normal. “I think you heard me.”

My patience could only be extended so far. I could take being banned from the theater. I could take finishing the programs despite not being allowed near the theater. I could allow my daughters to continue to participate.

But I could in no way, shape or form take being taunted by a ridiculous pants wearing, obnoxious talking, power hungry wanna-be community theater director.

I pushed my cart past hers until I was right next to her.

Her chin stayed in the air and she eyes me with haughty indifference.

“You may not see me later at your little theater,” I said, lowering my voice. I glanced at the bags of chips and frozen dinners in her cart. “But at least I’m not going to bounce a check when I go to pay for my groceries.”

Her buggy eyes nearly burst out of her head. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve tried to excuse you, Eleanor, but you’ve made it nearly impossible,” I said. “I sent the program to the printer before I drove over here. Let him know if you need to post-date the check.”

Her hand flew to her chest and she gasped. “Why, you horrible woman!”

“I’m the horrible woman?” I said I set my hands on my hips. “Really? You kick me out of your little theater because your kid made something up about me and then you make some smart remark about it? After I finished my volunteer work, work that I didn’t have to do?” I leaned in closer and she took a step back. “Give me a break, lady. At least I’m not lying to everyone about my company when it’s really on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“Where did you hear such a thing?” she hissed at me. “That is patently untrue!”

“Big words and fancy phrases won’t make it untrue, Eleanor,” I told her. “But you reap what you sow.” I smiled at her. “I’m thinking I might just start my own theater group when yours goes under.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I? Really?” I leaned in even closer. “And when people start asking for refunds this weekend because your show is a mess, I genuinely hope you have the money to give it back to them.”

“My show will not be a mess!” she cried, shaking her head.

“It’s not your show, Eleanor,” I told her. “It belongs to the kids. Remember? And from what I hear, it is going to be a mess. So good luck with that.”

Her hands were white on the handle of the cart. Her chin shook. Her nostrils flared at me. Her lips were clamped shut and if she’d had a bat, I had no doubt she would’ve swung it at me, given the anger burning in her eyes.

It wasn’t my finest moment. I shouldn’t have confronted her in the aisle of the grocery store. And it didn’t feel good to say those things to her; at least not as good as I’d thought it might. But she’d been rude and imperious to me from the moment I’d met her and I was done taking her garbage.

I stared her down, waiting for her to passive aggressively attack me or look down her nose at me again.

But then something changed in her eyes. It was like water on a fire. The anger died.

And was replaced by tears.

The shaking in her chin spread to the rest of her body and she bent over, leaning her head against the handle of her shopping cart. Loud, violent sobs exploded from her mouth, the sort of high-pitched wails that made me think of a sad sea lion.

People walked past us, eyeing her, then me before quickly moving away. I stood there, my hands moving from my hips to my cart. I knew better than to try to comfort her; I had no doubt a reassuring hand on her shoulder might lead to a direct punch to my stomach. It was disconcerting to see a grown woman cry halfway between the baking aisle and the cereal aisle at the grocery store. It was even more disconcerting to know that I was partly to blame.

Finally, Eleanor stood up, her eyes red and swollen. Rivers of blue eye shadow and black mascara ran down her cheeks, leaving dark trails on her powdered face. She fished around in her purse and pulled out a tissue, wiping her eyes with a practiced hand. She took a deep breath and her entire body vibrated.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said.

“That’s...okay.”

She pursed her lips and took a couple of deep breaths, clearly trying to regain her composure. She started to say something and her mouth hung open for a moment, then closed. She tried again and her mouth did the same thing. Open, then closed. She took another deep breath and hitched her pants up to just under her boobs.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “We are not in great shape. This could be our last production.”

Given that I’d just thrown all that in her face, I wasn’t sure what to say to her admission.

“We’ve bled money for the last year,” she said, staring at the package of frozen lasagna in her cart. “I’ve tried everything I could think of, but nothing has worked. I’ve never had to ask for any kind of assistance before and I guess I’ve waited too long now.” She paused, and I wasn’t sure if it was because she needed to catch her breath or if she was doing it for dramatic effect. “I just thought that if I changed things up this time around, it might also change our fortunes.”

“What did you change up this time around?”

She sniffed several times. “Have you been to any of our previous productions?”

I shook my head. “No.”

She sniffed again and steadied herself against the cart. “My daughter has had the lead role in every production we’ve done for the last three years. Now, mind you, she is a wonderfully talented actress and no matter what anyone thinks, she earned the right to play those roles. But there was a...redundancy...to seeing her onstage so often in the same company.”