SPAGHETTI AND TEARDROPS
There wasn’t much time to lose. I drove over to Fairfield and rang Josita’s doorbell. She looked really surprised to see me, because after all, I hadn’t called her to warn her I was coming over. “What the hell is going on?” she said, her mouth wide open in surprise. “Josita. You’ve got to come right away. We need you to fill in for Buddy.” “WHAT??!!” “Yes, the play starts in an hour and there isn’t much time. Can’t you come?” Josita stared at me. “But—this is opening night—what happened?!” “Buddy had a death in the family and had to go to Cleveland. So you’re the understudy for all the walk-ons.” Josita understood this, but she hadn’t been expecting to step in so quickly. The first performance!! Ken appeared at the door to find out what was going on. “Which one did Buddy play again?” Josita asked. I smiled weakly at her. “You don’t remember? He’s the chef—the one that bungles everything up in the second act.” Josita exchanged looks with her husband and cried, “Oh, for Pete’s sake! Ken, will you watch the girls? Maybe you should just bring them.” Ken decided to take a pass tonight as he was watching the basketball championships. “Hold on one second, Jacques,” she called as she ran upstairs to change. Soon we were speeding toward the theatre. As soon as we got there, I said to Josita, “Here is Buddy’s chef clothing. Hurry up and put it on. Do you know your cue and everything?” Josita scowled at me and replied, “I’ve only read Spaghetti and Teardrops a million times—I know every word and stage direction in the whole play!!!”