A Dropped Stitches Christmas Read Online Free Page B

theatre with an open casting call and everything.”
    “Oh, you should try out,” Marilee says. “Maybe you could be an angel or something.”
    I see the crinkles start in Randy’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
    “I’m not sure there’s angels,” Lizabett says as she frowns at what she’s reading in the paper.
    “How can it be a Christmas pageant without angels?” Randy looks away from me to ask.
    “It says it’s a Christmas pageant set in the Dust Bowl of the 1930s—sort of in The Grapes of Wrath style with migrant farmworkers. It’s written by a novice playwright.”
    “Really?” For the first time since Lizabett started talking, I’m optimistic. I might be able to do dust in a beginner’s play.
    “If you want me to go with you to the audition, I will,” Marilee volunteers. “I can drive you.”
    “It’s today at three o’clock,” Lizabett adds as she hands me the paper. “I’d go, but I have a class.”
    “Okay,” I say and I’m kind of getting excited myself.
    If nothing else I will get Sisterhood points for trying something new. Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take the journal with me. If I have to sit in a room with the others who are auditioning, I’d like to have something to do. I know that each actress will have to wait her turn to perform before the casting director.

     
    Hi, this is Marilee. Carly left the journal with me while she went over to stand in the line with the other actresses, so I am sitting here and writing a bit. We made it down to the auditions in Studio City in plenty of time and were even lucky enough to find a parking space on the street. I had never noticed before that Carly does walk like royalty. It must be all the training she had when she was competing for the Rose Queen crown. I wouldn’t have known, if she hadn’t told me, all that is involved in preparing for that competition. She could have been practicing for the Olympics and not have spent any more effort on it.
    Anyway, I’m glad Carly wanted me to come with her. This place is just what I would imagine they would use for something like this. It is a big metal warehouse building with those low-hanging bulbs that give off cold, blue light. It is chilly enough outside that everyone is wearing jackets or sweaters inside, but the light doesn’t make it seem any warmer than it is. Maybe they want it to be uncomfortable to weed out the people who aren’t serious about auditioning. I look around me. Lots of these people are dressed up like The Grapes of Wrath kind of people. I feel an urge to go around and hand out quarters. Or was it dimes, back then?
    I’ve heard some of the people talking and, apparently, the playwright has money to pay actors even though he’s never had a play performed before. His uncle’s footing the bill. The play might not be prestigious, but it looks like a lot of people want a chance to act in it.
    I look at Carly in her designer blue jeans. She doesn’t look like anything from that era. Oh, well, it’s too late for her to change. Besides, someone had to have nice clothes, even in the Depression.
    They have Christmas music playing from speakers here and there. The assistants who are organizing everything are walking around with clipboards and telling people which line to stand in. I lose track of Carly for a minute while she changes lines. She was going to try to get in the angel line, but it looks like the clipboard people told her to get into some other line.
    Oh, there she is again. Changing lines must have worked because Carly is walking across the stage right now. She’s stopped and is standing in front of the casting director and a few other people. I am too far away to hear what they are saying to her, but I know they’re talking because she’s nodding her head. A nod should be a positive thing, shouldn’t it?
    I didn’t think I would be this nervous when I came with Carly. Maybe it’s just the combined anxiety of all of the others in this warehouse. So