She took the key out, glared at it, then slipped it in the lock again. The lock clicked open without a problem and the door swung open. A smile broke across her face. Yes. Success. She was finally going to see the inside.
She stepped across the threshold into the lobby. The musty smell mixed with echoes of laughter and conversations from long ago. She blinked as it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit lobby.
She walked past the ticket counter and ran her gaze over a line of peeling posters. The last shows before the theater had closed. A play. A movie marathon night. A performance by the high school choir. Each one a decaying fragment of the theater’s once-vibrant past. She traced a finger over the poster for the stage play, feeling a connection to it and the actors who’d played their roles.
She turned, walked across the slanted floor of the lobby, and pushed open the swinging door to the actual theater. Rows of seats stretched before her. The lower level was split into three sections. She turned around to see the upper tier, her favorite place to sit. First row of the upper tier.
Memories swirled around her as she climbed the stairs. She walked down the front row and sat in her favorite seat, placing her hands on the wooden railing. She could almost feel her grandmother’s presence. She actually turned to the seat beside her, half expecting to see her grandmother reading through the show’s program. Closing her eyes, she let the memories engulf her. She could almost feel the pulse of the theater, the noise of the crowd settling into their seats, the anticipation.
After a few minutes, she finally pushed up off the seat and went down to the main level to poke around. In a side office, she flicked some of the light switches. When she walked back into the theater, the huge chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling cast sparkling, magical light across everything. She clapped her hands in excitement.
She forced herself to walk right past the stage and headed to the backstage area. With the flip of another switch, bare bulbs harshly illuminated the area.
Old props were stacked in the far corner. A dressing table with a mirror lined with lights stood on one side of the room. A few doors on the left led to what must have been dressing areas.
She trudged around the area, picking up a pair of black pumps and flipping them over. Tap shoes, now silent, the metal taps dull from use. She set them down and picked up a floral scarf, shaking the dust off it. The dust floated in the light of the bare bulbs. This prop, once a piece of a costume in one of the plays, now just a faded piece of cloth. She carefully folded it up and set it aside, wondering which actress had worn it and which plays it had been part of.
One wall was lined with clothing racks that were still filled with costumes. Running her fingers over a silk dress that looked like it was from the 1920s, she closed her eyes, imagining an actress wearing it, the spotlights on her as she moved across the stage with the audience following her every move, listening to her every word.
She stepped away from the costumes and turned her gaze upward to the ceiling, eyeing it carefully. She saw no sign of water damage, which was good. But she’d have to have a contractor look it over if she was serious about buying and renovating it.
She was serious, wasn’t she? It couldn’t replace what she’d lost… but at least it would give her life some meaning again.
She finally walked back out into the main theater and stared at the stage. She could no longer ignore it. She climbed up on it as familiar feelings crept over her.
Her footsteps echoed as she crossed the worn floorboards. She turned to face the chairs, the audience, and could almost hear their applause. A sound that she hadn’t heard in months and months. Not since her last performance on Broadway, a box office smash that had broken all records of ticket sales.
The perfect life… until it wasn’t.
Chapter8
Tori headed over to Coastal Coffee the next morning. Darlene was busy today with an inn full of guests and too preoccupied to chat, leaving Tori craving a chance to talk to someone who knew her, even a little. Hopefully, Beverly would be working this morning.
When she walked in, the now familiar scents and sounds surrounded her, a comfort from the rush of changes that were headed her way more quickly than she could have imagined. She wasn’t sure what she thought she’d do when she came to Magnolia Key, but it certainly hadn’t been to buy the theater. Or have anything to do with a theater. And yet, here she was with her big plans. Excited about them.
Beverly waved to her and motioned for her to take a seat. She scanned the room, her gaze settling on the only available two-top. As she sat down, she noticed a lone older woman sitting at the table behind her, engrossed in reading the paper. Then she ran her gaze around the cafe and froze. Gavin. Not two tables away. Their eyes met briefly, and he did that infuriating bob of his head before turning back to his meal.
Just great. Way to dampen her day.
Beverly came over. “Morning. Good to see you again. How’s the exploring of the town going?”
“It’s been… interesting.” She paused, wondering if she should tell Beverly her plan. The last person she’d told about it—Gavin—hadn’t been impressed. Though, Darlene was a fan of it.
“Interesting? How so?” Beverly prodded.
She took a deep breath. “I went to the old theater. Actually went inside it yesterday. And… I’m thinking of buying it.”
A chair scraped and the woman sitting at the table beside her turned to her. “You don’t say.”
“Miss Eleanor, this is Tori. She’s visiting for a bit,” Beverly introduced them.
“And you think the theater is a good investment for some out-of-town stranger to purchase?” Miss Eleanor glared at her.
“No—I—I mean, yes.” Why was everyone in this town skeptical of her intentions?
“It’s not for sale. Not to be bought by some stranger and torn down and some fancy stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb building put up in its place.” Miss Eleanor shook her head.
She glanced over at Gavin and saw he was listening in. She squared her shoulders, waiting for him to join in and rail against her plans. Instead, he sat there listening.
