THE GIRL IN THE MOON

Mrs. Amberson had left a voice mail for Scarlett while she was asleep.

“Please tell your parents I will be coming along to family dinner night, as usual,” she said. “They very kindly extended me an invitation. I have some very exciting news.”

Scarlett’s multiple attempts at calling back to get this news were unsuccessful. Mrs. Amberson was simply not answering.

By five, she had to go rouse Spencer, who was deeply asleep fully dressed in his wet clothes. For some profoundly disturbing reason, he shouted the word “peanuts” when Scarlett finally shook him back to consciousness.

“Anything?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Mrs. Amberson is coming over,” Scarlett reported. “Something happened, but she won’t say what.”

Spencer shook his head hard to get the blood flowing and blinked at her a few times. There were still tiny specs of white makeup around his ears that he hadn’t gotten off—the last evidence of the show that probably was no more.

“No matter what happens tonight,” he said, “even if I walk out of dinner as a culinary student and not an actor…I owe you. I want to tell you this now, because I have a bad feeling that I’m not going to be the best person to be around for a few weeks. I won’t forget what you did. And we had fun, right?”

He smiled, but it sounded like he was conceding defeat in his mind.

Downstairs, two pans of the lasagna of death had been roasted into existence. The rolls and salad had been purchased premade, so they were edible. A cab rolled up and Mrs. Amberson stepped out, wearing her brown karate ensemble. Scarlett met her on the sidewalk.

“I love these early dinners,” she said. “So serene, and good for the digestion. We should always eat this early.”

“What’s going on?” Scarlett asked. “Have any agents contacted you? Have you heard anything about where to move the show?”

“All will be revealed,” she said, in an irritatingly sly way.

She took out her cigarette case and opened it. It contained no cigarettes. Instead, it was full of long toothpicklike objects.

“Bamboo soaked in tea-tree oil,” she explained, popping one in her mouth and chewing on it ferociously. “I’ve given up smoking. My acupuncturist says these are very soothing.”

She looked like she was about to gnaw it up and eat it, which probably wasn’t the idea. She swanned along inside, leaving Scarlett to follow. She greeted the Martins effusively, even Marlene, as if she hadn’t seen them in decades.

“Funny thing,” she said, sniffing the air. “Quitting smoking has left me ravenous. I can’t wait for dinner.”

Much to Scarlett’s amazement, Mrs. Amberson took a huge helping of the scary lasagna, a chunk of bread, two scoops of salad, and she even accepted a large glass of the instant iced tea. She dug right in, eating and making small talk for a full half hour, rambling on about anything and everything but the show.