She waved her hand at the notes.

“I’ve spent the last few days reestablishing every contact I have. These are the names of agents, casting directors, reviewers, producers…and do you know what we’re going to do?”

Scarlett shook her head and went over and got out the organic cleaning products. She wasn’t in the mood for any more fill-in-the-blanks conversations.

“We are going to have a special preview. Very special. Catered.”

Scarlett nodded and sprayed the dressing table with ylang-ylang.

“What?” she said. “What is that face, O’Hara?”

“I don’t have a face.”

“You most certainly do. Look at this wonderful work! Do you realize what this means for the show?”

“It’s great,” Scarlett said.

Unable to rouse any enthusiasm, Mrs. Amberson went back into her position.

“I won’t be coming to the theater today,” she said. “This is much more important. But I need you to be there. It’s the first dress run. Be my eyes. And for God’s sake, smile. You’re representing me! You have to emit positive energy!”

To her credit, Mrs. Amberson had provided fantastic costumes—and there was something fascinating about what happened to the actors once they put them on and did their makeup. Everyone really seemed to change.

Mrs. Amberson’s concept was a twenties silent movie, so they all had at least a dusting of white with dark lining around the eyes and coloring on the lips. The female cast members were in sequined dresses, and the guys were outfitted with elegant suits. The silver trim she had sewed onto Hamlet’s looked strangely appropriate against all of the other outfits. Spencer and Eric had been directed to apply heavier coats of white makeup, with more lining around their features. They also wore suits, but ill-fitting ones, several sizes too large with the hems on the pants raised up high. This was partly for comic effect, and party for safety when they rode.

Scarlett stood out in her simple summer skirt and T-shirt. Her face felt bare. (Thankfully, in the heat. Also, actors seemed to sweat more than other people—what was that about?) She plastered on the requested smile as well, until Ophelia asked her if she’d hurt her jaw.

There were a lot of hiccups in the run. People forgot lines all over the place (including Eric, three times). The ramp going up to the stage shifted when Spencer was riding up it, and he just barely caught himself when the wheel jammed and he was sent pitching forward. Gertrude went into a panicked meltdown for ten minutes when she couldn’t get one of her scenes right. Hamlet bent the tip of his sword when it struck the wall.

It was Paulette’s job to deal with most of these things, but Scarlett dutifully wrote them down for Mrs. Amberson, only leaving out the problems with the ramp (it wasn’t Spencer’s fault, and Paulette was all over fixing it) and Eric’s flubbed lines. The group seemed exhausted by the end of the day, gratefully accepting Scarlett’s help with their clothes and props. Many of the outfits were pretty foul by the day’s end, and Scarlett started to fear for what things would be like when they’d been wearing them for a few days.