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Roy stepped out of the black cab at 1 Little Green, Richmond, juggling a fucking huge bouquet of carnations, a box of cupcakes, and Phoebe’s green sweater. Keeley emerged after him with another bunch of carnations and her sparkly clutch.
Looking up from the curb at Richmond Theatre all lit up, Roy could sense the opening night excitement, just like the locker room before a big game. He pushed his nerves down and gripped the cupcake box tight. It wasn’t his opening night, after all.
A call from down the block caught Roy’s attention. “Hey Roy, I’m here, I’m here!” Gemma was rushing, sure, but she wasn’t in scrubs and she was in plenty of time. The curtain wasn’t until half seven.
“Oi, you’re fine, sis. You’re good,” Roy called back.
“Hi Gemma, you look smashing. So glad you got the night off,” Keeley kissed both Gemma’s cheeks and passed her along to Roy, who took the opportunity to hand off the cupcakes and sweater to his sister.
As they made their way into the theatre, Roy couldn’t believe seven weeks had passed since he first brought Phoebe around for auditions. He thought it would be a bit of a lark, a way for her to practice some of her dancing after all her lessons the past three years.
Instead, when the casting notice was posted, there it was for all to see, and for Phoebe to shriek about:
Chip …………… Phoebe Baker
After that came tea eaten in the car on the way to rehearsals, drop offs and pick-ups four days a week, and a never ending litany of lines and songs and dance moves being practiced in the sitting room and Phoebe’s bedroom and the back garden and the back seat of the car...wherever Phoebe was, some element of Beauty and the Beast The Musical was close at hand.
And Roy was happy for her. And so proud, God, so proud. She was the only kid who had an actual name in the play. All the other “ensemble” kids were obviously hacks and Phoebe was the best of the bunch. Took a smart director to see that.
Early in the third week of rehearsal, that director pulled Roy aside when he came in to pick Phoebe up at the end of the evening.
“Mr. Kent, just a word.”
“Yeah?” She’d better be quick because it was getting close to his bedtime, nevermind Phoebe’s need for sleep.
“Just wanted to say there’s no need to work with Phoebe at home on her lines and music unless you want to. I know the initial instructions to the parents, erm, in your case uncles, was to be sure to rehearse daily with their child. But Phoebe appears to have the entire show memorized already, and isn’t being, well, shy about offering to help all the adults when they miss their lines. So…”
Roy couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “You're telling me that my Phoebe has got all the lines of all the characters down cold? That’s brilliant, isn’t it?”
Each night during their post-rehearsal drive home, Phoebe regaled Roy with information about the kids she already knew from dance class and all the other kids in the cast that she had made fast friends with. She also had story after story to tell about “Enchanted Object Rehearsals” just for the characters in the Beast’s castle, costume fittings, and the number of swears she added to her notebook each rehearsal. Seemed that actors were almost as bad as footballers when it came to their language.
And now here they were, opening night. All Phoebe wanted was cupcakes and flowers, so that’s what they had brought. Along with the sweater she’d forgotten at home that was necessary for her opening night party outfit.
“Thanks, Uncle Roy,” Phoebe had yelled over her shoulder as she ran to the stage door after being dropped off for her call time. She had her makeup kit clutched in her little hand and Roy was not going to cry before the curtain went up.
Back at home he and Keeley got dressed, found the forgotten sweater, and separated the carnations into two bundles so they’d each have something for Phoebe.
Carnations were not Roy’s idea of a decent flower for any occasion, but Phoebe loved that they came in every color you could think of, so Roy had gotten several dozen of every color at the shop down the road. Whatever his girl wanted.
Roy followed Keeley and Gemma up the stairs and into the Victorian interior of the theatre. It was quite the sight filled with families and friends, young and old.
Roy was pleased to see a number of Richmond players in the crowd. Keeley had made sure that over the course of opening weekend everyone—everyone—would be here at some point.
He cocked an eyebrow at the sight of Ted and Trent Crimm each holding one of Seraphina’s hands as they led the three-year-old down to a row close to the front. Fucking hell she’d better not cry or make noise during the show.
Roy was proud of himself for making it all the way through to the end without rolling his eyes into the back of his head at the cheesiness of it all, or crying uncontrollably at the romance. It all came to a head at the finale, when Phoebe, brilliant Phoebe, said her final lines.
“Are they gonna live happily ever after, Mama?” said Chip, the fucking precious teacup.
“Of course, my dear. Of course,” said Mrs. Potts, now back to her human form.
“Do I still have to sleep in the cupboard?” asked Chip, getting a big laugh from the crowd as the music swelled.
Wiping his eyes and accepting a squeeze to his arm from Keeley, Roy had never been prouder of Phoebe. She was gonna live happily ever after. He’d see to it.