Where Dreams Unfold Read online

  The rest of the forest, she knew from looking it over at stage level, was three stories tall and full of shape, texture and color, but it was barely five-feet thick. The back was made of thin tubes of square steel, knit together as intricately as her costumes. They were made of interlocking eight-foot sections that rolled around on wheels. From up here she could see the Prince’s castle sat off to one side, the Princess’ homeland off to another, so massive up close, they were play toys from here.

  Bill led them up a narrow flight of stairs and through a small door.

  She couldn’t make any sense of the space.

  This time it was Bill who led her across the plywood flooring toward a low wall.

  “Careful,” he took her arm. “It’s a bit of a drop.”

  At the rear of the platform, she understood where they were. They were in the ceiling of the auditorium. The deep red seats ranged in neat rows far below. So close, you could almost jump to it, a steel gantry had a half-dozen big lights.

  Jaspar came to stand beside her.

  She clamped a hand on his shoulder to make sure he didn’t go over this rail unexpectedly. He just grinned up at her.

  “See,” he pointed with this good hand. “Jim, Marissa, Camille, and Jess sit there and run followspots. That’s those big lights that they can aim down at the stage and steer to follow people. They let me try it once, it’s fun.”

  Beyond the gantry, the inner structure of the ceiling ranged off into the distance, a maze of steel supports, air conditioning pipes, and tiny walkways.

  “This is your idea of romantic?” Perrin asked Bill as they turned back to spread out the picnic on the floor that was actually the auditorium’s ceiling.

  “No one will look for me here at least.”

  Jaspar helped Tamara spread out the lunch as much as he could one-handed and they all sat. Sandwiches, sodas, and laughter told her she’d done well.

  She hadn’t worried about that though. Old Perrin would have, making sure each thing was thought out, planned, replanned. New Perrin had simply made lunch and was enjoying herself. Her usual mode was to sort of sit outside herself and observe how naturally, or unnaturally, she was interacting with those around her and make the necessary adjustments. Now she sat inside herself and simply observed that she wasn’t busy second guessing herself.

  When at length they returned to the main stage, Bill looked relaxed and the kids excited, exactly what she’d been hoping for. Though she’d never have pictured a picnic in the ceiling. Once on the stage, Bill pointed up to where they’d been sitting. That’s when the nerves hit her, it was so far up in the air. She closed her eyes and looked away quickly.

  Most of the crew leaders had shown up during their absence. It was only minutes before Bill was whisked away.

  Jaspar and Tammy took her on a tour of the Opera House. Both tugging on her hands, often in different directions to show off favorite places.

  From Bill’s office, Tammy led them down the hall to visit Jerimy. She admired it as if new, though it was one of the only spaces she’d seen before. Smaller than her design studio, it had two sewing machines and a bin of fabrics, zippers, and the like for emergency repairs. A bank of washing machines was for removing stage blood before it set and made a stain. All of the clothes would be dry cleaned between every performance.

  Next was the Green Room where Jaspar headed for the sugar until he noted Perrin watching closely and he turned for a fistful of trail mix instead.

  Mika was already set up in the Makeup Room, six assistants hopping to his commands to make everything ready for the steady stream that would be coming through. With the chorus, they would be adorning well over a hundred people during the next two hours. Perrin retreated out of his way as quickly as Tamara would let her.

  She liked the way that the technical crews made time for Jaspar. And not just because he was the Stage Manager’s kid, they appeared to genuinely like him. He introduced Perrin to so many people that she never stood a chance to remember their names.

  The bewildering lighting setup in the back corner of the stage was clearly Jaspar’s favorite. The console reminded her of when the TV news showed the controls of the space shuttle. Screens everywhere, rows and rows of sliders, a bank of controls for the intelligent lights, which sounded creepy… Jaspar seemed to know what it all meant and how to use most of it, though he was careful not to actually touch anything as he explained it.

  She didn’t like to be reduced to saying “Uh-huh” at appropriate places, but maybe that was all he needed from her in this moment. Perhaps that he wanted to share it with her was enough. She’d have to ask Bill later, maybe he’d know. But maybe not. He’d surprised her when he’d tried once to explain that he wasn’t some amazing father acting from a secret fathering manual. He insisted that he was just making it up as he went along. Perrin decided that for the moment, “Uh-huh” was going to have to be sufficient.

  Even more bewildering was the sound console. Not for the singers or the musicians, they didn’t need any help he informed her, “not even Tam,” he said with some pride. It was for sound effects, backstage monitors so that everyone could hear where they were in the opera, even the headphone system. It seemed that everyone had on a set of headphones all hooked into little battery packs clipped to their belts.

  By now, people were scurrying around everywhere with intense purpose. Almost everyone. A whole group of men and women dressed in black right down to their sneakers and gloves, lounged backstage ready to move the set pieces that looked so real up close even if they had looked like toys from above.

  When the kids headed to makeup, she retreated to the tall stool at Bill’s station, just off stage right, not ten feet from where the actors would be onstage. “Stage right” was different from “house right” for the audience. Perrin heard people switching effortlessly between the two. It made a subtle invisible barrier between performer and observer, the switching of whose right and left was important.

  Bill’s station included a half-dozen little computer screens. One showed the overly early arrivals milling in the lobby. Another, a view from above the audience, showed the three-thousand vacant seats. A third offered a clear image of the still-empty conductor’s stand in the orchestra pit, though Perrin could hear a piano tuner checking the concert grand down there.

  One of the pair of larger screens showed the closed red curtain as seen from the audience, but it would show the full stage when it opened. The second one had an incomprehensible display that Bill told her he mostly ignored because it was the feed from Richard’s lighting control console.

  The biggest screen on Bill’s console was the cue list. Every few minutes, Bill would breeze through, brush a hand down her arm that sent warm shivers up her spine, then start checking items off the list.

  “Hour-thirty to show,” he called over a PA that she could hear echoing about the backstage area. “House open in an hour. Chorus to makeup and costumes.” Then he was gone again.

  Four assistant stage managers swirled about. One was Bill’s hands and feet on the stage left offstage area, another chased cast members, a third worked with crew chiefs from lighting and sound, to checking in with the prop masters who had set up long tables at strategic points in the off-stage darkness, every single piece sitting in its tape-outlined area. The fourth one appeared to be everywhere at once.

  “Be dead without Jenny,” Bill had remarked as the so-named assistant whisked him away to check on some last-minute detail.

  “Pretty excellent, huh?” Jaspar appeared at Perrin’s elbow, now dressed as the Young Prince, right down to his sling and sword.

  “It makes my head hurt there’s so much going on,” Perrin confessed. “Is it always this crazy?”

  Jaspar scanned the goings-on about him with a practiced eye. “No… ” then he grinned at her,. “usually it’s much worse!”

  “Gee, thanks so much!” />
  He just smiled.

  She’d learned during lunch when to recognize that Jaspar had something to say. She did her best to sit quietly and wait.

  “Are you and Dad okay again?” His question sobered her.

  Perrin had made a promise to herself to only speak truth with Bill’s children, so she shrugged. “I think so. Remember, I’ve seen way less of him than you have.”

  Jaspar offered one of his sage, ten-year old nods. “Hadn’t thought about that. He sure gets mushy when he talks about you.”

  “Seems fair. I get mushy when I talk about him.”

  He shook his head, “No, you don’t. Not mushy. You get all quiet and happy at the same time.”

  Perrin desperately needed a subject change. “I made a surprise for you for the party after the show.”

  “More clothes I bet,” he groaned but gave her a smile as he rested his good hand on his sword pommel to show his thanks.

  “You’d win that bet.”

  He was right, she did feel all quiet and happy as he trotted away toward makeup and she left to get ready and meet her friends.

  # # #

  Perrin climbed out of the limo with Melanie, Jo, Cassidy, and Maria. She moved Melanie to the center, so that their dresses would work correctly together. The flashes were blinding. Russell brushed by close in front of them, kissed Cassidy quickly, and whispered, “Don’t squint, and smile,” before moving off to a new angle and raising his own camera.

  Only Melanie appeared at perfect ease. The others looked a little wild, but then they shared smiles among themselves and it was somehow alright. Arm in arm, like they were following a red-brick road, her friends moved forward with her.

  E! network stopped them along the way. Totally overwhelmed by the big glass eye of the television camera, Perrin kept her mouth shut. Melanie, barely missing a beat, stepped in and answered their questions emphasizing repeatedly that the woman beside her had indeed designed both these dresses and all of the costumes for Ascension. Her acknowledgement that she was indeed still seeing the Italian tenor star of the opera was brushed aside so quickly that Perrin barely saw it go by.

  E! had apparently already done backstage interviews with several of the stars. When asked where the amazing ideas had come from Perrin couldn’t answer, “While listening to Bill Cullen’s lovely voice.” Melanie cut her off gently when she tried to stumble out an answer and led them inside.

  “Never answer such questions, Perrin,” Melanie advised her quietly as Perrin slowly regained her equilibrium. “Designs always come from your heart, somewhere mysterious and unfathomable. It makes your line of designs more unique and enhances the perceived value of your work. Coco never explained her work, nor should you.”

  They drank overpriced champagne from tall, thin flutes and waited for the time to go in. Perrin began noticing that there were distinct categories of men and women approaching them.

  Cassidy was soon at the center of a small circle of vintners and wine connoisseurs, apparently oblivious to her best friend’s beauty. Jo had board members of both Pike Place Market and the Opera, as well as one of her former law partners, clustered close about her. Her quiet power so enhanced by her dress that each word she softly spoke stilled the group for them all to listen.

  Perrin with Maria close by her side, was swamped by women wearing her designs. They were no competition for the power of the five new dresses, but still the gathering created a spectacle that kept many heads turned in their direction. Melanie continued to run interference for her, because it was all far too big for Perrin.

  It was a huge relief when an usher rapped three notes on a small brass xylophone announcing it was time to take their seats. It was the same three notes as the little wooden door harp on her bedroom door. It provided memories that made it easier to smile and remain calm.

  The opera itself was a bit of a blur. She knew the story and the music so well that she could simply enjoy the emotional journey without having to pay attention to all of the little details.

  Carlo sang beautifully of hope and love; his first costume, for he alone had needed several, attempted to deny the foreshadowing of his pending failure that the music so broadly suggested.

  The Magister’s dark tones rose in threat until cut short with a magnificent low note produced by Geoffrey Palliser as the presence of the Overlord. He and the Empress were announced with overwhelming force and power. Perrin barely felt Melanie’s squeeze on her arm at the magnificence of the costumes under Richard’s lighting.

  Carlo ceased being the singer and became the character. The Prince struggling against his fate despite its inevitably. Perrin could see the parallels of Bill as he struggled to hold his family together despite the tragic loss they had suffered.

  When the Princess and the True Love both vied for the Prince’s favor, Perrin felt as if she were being torn in two. She wanted both to win; both to triumph and achieve that which they sought.

  The True Love’s murder by the Magister’s least servant came as such a shock that Perrin barely masked a sobbing breath, many in the audience did not. The Empress’ intervention too late, the Overlord a moment behind. The Prince broken forever at her loss, crying out from his madness. The haunting tunes somehow captured Perrin’s running rhythm as she’d run away from the hospital. How had she ever done such a thing to Bill?

  Before she could truly hate herself, a light, sweet soprano offered the faintest glimmer of hope. The Empress and Overlord-to-be, Tamara and Jaspar, rekindled by the very darkness that surrounded them, glowed forth brighter than beacons in the night.

  The opera, so dark, so rife with doom, was rescued from the very brink with a gentle duet of the elder Empress and her protégé. The Overlord’s final benediction offering hope for all.

  All but one. Ascension closed with a grim reminder of human fragility: the softly-weeping lullaby the Princess sang to lull the mad Prince who lay with his head upon her lap.

  A shocked silence was all the stunned audience could offer. It stretched out long enough for her to glance at her friends. They all wept unaware, untended tears trickling down their faces. She checked her own cheeks with a hand, dry, though not through lack of—

  Practically as one, the audience erupted to its feet.

  # # #

  Ascension had lived up to all of the hype created by the yarn-bombing and other advertising efforts. Bill told her that Seattle audiences were notorious for not giving standing ovations and had never demanded an encore in the four years he’d been at Emerald City Opera. Ascension would be headed straight into the majestic heights of major opera house repertoire, an unprecedented opening. No one was even worrying about the reviews. Well, not much.

  She let the others go ahead to the restaurant while she rushed backstage. With Jerimy’s assistance, she’d helped Tamara and Jaspar into their matching outfits from the bag she’d delivered earlier. These were the idea she’d had when she’d made the other dresses for her friends. The children were now attired to be the shining stars of the emotional progression she’d made with the five dresses and with the opera itself.

  Tamara’s dress was easily recognizable as the Empress-to-be, but shifted in two ways: into high fashion and unbridled joy. It wouldn’t be appropriate for any lesser party, but it would be a smash hit tonight.

  Jaspar’s suit combined the fulfillment of the Young Prince’s eternal promise with the Overlord’s majestic power. She’d designed the sling right into it, in a way that turned the “accident” of both the sailboat and the supposed sword accident, into a representation of the small cost of his ultimate triumph.

  Jaspar had declared it “Most excellent!”

  Perrin had to agree.

  By the time they were ready, Bill had arrived, changed into an elegant charcoal suit for the party. Hand in hand, the four of them walked through the warm May evening for the couple blocks to Angelo’
s new restaurant.

  Perrin felt as if she was floating on air, Bill with Tamara on one arm and her on the other, and Jaspar holding her down to the earth with his good hand in hers.

  Forewarned, Russell had been waiting at the entrance with his camera. No matter what else happened, Perrin knew that whatever her past might be, she would have photographic proof of just how much joy was possible.

  Chapter 21

  Perrin followed Tamara and Jaspar’s instructions to the letter, and once again been unable to resist arriving at Bill’s house early. She went with casual but pretty. The same outfit she’d worn the first time they met: the flirty fall skirt, clingy spring blouse, and the same filmy batik summer scarf. She’d substituted the leprechaun-green hat just as a fun tease. And not one single color of the opera, which was actually a relief.

  When Bill answered the door, she handed him the large pizza she’d brought with her.

  “What are you doi—” He smacked his forehead. “That’s why the kids wanted to sleepover at Lucy’s. Why those conniving, sneaky, pint-sized—”

  “Would you rather I leave? If I do, I take the pizza with me.” She offered him her most innocent smile as she reached out to take back the box.

  He yanked it out of reach, wrapped his free arm around her waist and hauled her against him so fast she barely had time to laugh before his kiss crushed down on her smile.

  “The pizza’s still hot,” she teased him.

  He dropped it to the floor, landing it flat she was glad to see, and dragged her to the sofa, the bedroom being much too far away.

  The pizza was long gone cold by the time she let him leave her long enough to reheat it, so that finally they could have some dinner in bed.

  # # #

  It was in the shower the next morning that Bill learned something new about Perrin.

  “You’re shy.” It was so unexpected that he actually said it aloud.