Chapter 38

Wake-Up Call

"Morning, sweetie!" Buster's mother sang over her shoulder on Monday as he dragged himself into the kitchen, where she stood at the stovetop, putting the finishing touches on breakfast. It smelled like omelets, possibly with ham and cheese, and despite his fatigue, his stomach growled with anticipation. "You're up early. I'm impressed."

Buster pulled out a chair and collapsed into his usual spot at the breakfast table. "Me, too, if I'm being honest," he said through a stifled yawn. "But I wanted to study my script some more. Maria, Binky, and Coach Sorrell can't be everywhere at once, so rehearsal might be chaos."

"Might be"? he thought. Try "definitely will be".

Due to Fern's mishap, which, until someone could prove otherwise, Buster was certain happened on Raccoon Hill, The Music Man was now all topsy-turvy. He sighed, remembering the blame could not solely be placed on Fern's injuries. Had Francine kept up with her understudy duties, everyone would be in much better shape right now. Thursday was opening night, leaving them with just three rehearsals and less than one week to prepare, and the Not Ready for High School Players were in a mad scramble to maintain some semblance of a decent production. The odds were stacked against them for sure.

"And to think," he continued, rubbing his eyes, "when I found out I was going to be Harold, I figured I was the one who would end up wrecking the musical. What's the world coming to, Mom?"

"It's absolute madness," his mother said with a chuckle, but after she placed Buster's plate in front of him, she gave his shoulder a reassuring pat before leaving to assemble a plate for herself. "I know things seem hairy right now, but don't get discouraged. You only found out yesterday, and if I'm being honest, I'm proud of the way you and everyone else responded to the situation."

"With pants wetting and sheer panic?"

"After that. The way you rallied around Francine and came up with an action plan. You didn't waste any time coming up with a solution, and you even did it without instruction from Coach Sorrell. That was very mature and responsible of you."

He supposed that was true. After mild freak-outs from some of the Player's, most notably Binky, who had looked slightly nauseous after shrieking when Francine fessed up, they held an impromptu damage control meeting right there in the ice cream shop. The remainder of their Sunday had been spent at Arthur's house, where his best friend had gotten permission to hold an emergency rehearsal. Knowing there was no way the entire cast could fit in Arthur's living room, the attendees had been whittled down to Buster, Francine, Ladonna, Binky, George, and Maria, who had been hesitant to take over the Mrs. Shinn role from Francine, that is, until Binky encouraged her to do it. "Who knows everyone's lines, backwards and forwards?" he asked her. "Who knows everyone's stage directions and character motivations? You're not just the best choice, Maria, you're the only choice! And if anyone disagrees, they can take it up with me." Arthur had played the piano while they rehearsed songs and choreography, with George teaching Francine and Binky teaching Maria, until they were all due home for dinner.

"With effort and determination like that," his mother said, returning to the table with her breakfast and a cup of coffee, "I think you'll be surprised by the mountains you can move in just three days."

"I hope you're right," said Buster. "Hey, if I'm so responsible, how about a raise in my allowance?"

She smiled thoughtfully. "Hmm... Maybe. We'll see."

They both fell quiet for a moment while they enjoyed their food. Buster thought about Fern and the musical and just how much had changed since the Autumn Ball. His mother read emails on her phone with a concentrated frown, apparently getting an early start on her workday. This was not the norm. She usually put away all distractions once the two of them sat down together for a meal. Maybe she was swamped, or maybe she just wanted to stay on top of things. She and his father had an appointment with Dr. Chen today, and Buster knew she would likely want to leave work in plenty of time to make it. She took a long swig from her mug, and that reminded Buster of something.

"So…are you and Dad having coffee this evening?" he said. "After Dr. Chen's?"

"Not today," she said, putting down her phone.

"Why not?"

"You're going to have your hands full with rehearsals this week, so it's probably best I come home as soon as I can and start dinner."

"I could start dinner. I don't mind. Just tell me what to do. Gotta earn that raise anyway, right?"

"I appreciate that, honey, but you and the rest of the Players are under a lot of pressure this week. With that and school, I'm going to lighten the load. No worries."

He was worried. Why was he worried?

"I mean, it's just that you and Dad didn't have coffee last Monday either…or on Friday evening. Is something wrong? Is counseling not going well? Did something happen after I left for rehearsal last Saturday?"

"Buster, hold your horses," she said looking concerned. "That's what you think?"

Buster hung his head, "I…was afraid it was a possibility. Things were going so well. At least, it seemed that way."

"Okay, well, let me reassure you, then. Counseling is still going quite well. Your father and I are still committed. There is no need to worry about that."

"Oh," Buster breathed, "that's good. I'm glad I said something."

"So am I," she said, patting his hand. "This week's schedule is going to be a little crazy, but we'll manage, and your father and I will be in the audience this weekend to cheer you on. And while I've got your attention, I might as well tell you…there are going to be some changes."

"What kind of changes?" said Buster, instantly suspicious again.

"I may be home late a lot more often, not just on Mondays. It really depends on how much time I have to spare. That's because I'm seeing someone."

His chair, the floor, and the table, they all seemed to disappear from underneath Buster, and he was alone, floating in a sea of disbelief. This was not the first time he had received this speech from his mother. It had always made him nervous because he never knew if he was going to like the new guy. And if he did like the new guy, would he be let down if the new guy and his mother broke it off? It was always such a huge guessing game. It had been a while, almost two years, since the last time Buster had heard this speech, and hearing it now was a true shock. At the same time, however, it explained so much about his mother's recent behavior.

"Who is he?" was the first thing that came to Buster's mind. "Did you meet him through work?"

"You could say that," she said.

"What's his name?"

"I…I'd rather not say too much right now."

"Why?"

"For several reasons." She sounded nervous now. "It's been a while since I've dated—not that I'm dating him, exactly. That's not what I meant. We've both experienced divorce, so we're cautious. We've done a lot of talking, and we still need to…figure out where we stand. Things have started off well, but I can't say for sure they'll stay that way. I'd rather not involve you this early on, drastically change your expectations and your lifestyle, just in case things don't work out. I've done that before, and I'm afraid it might not be good for you. I'm sorry, honey. I hope that makes sense."

Buster thought about breakfast and his mother's words on his way to school. As displeased as he was with the news, his mother's reasoning had made sense. He did not want to invest anything in the new guy right now either. As tempting as it had been, he had not had the heart to tell his mother that she had already changed his expectations and lifestyle with a simple speech. Upon coming home Friday, Buster had hoped his mother had met his father for lunch. Now it seemed as if the more accurate assumption was that she had met the new guy instead. They had a good routine going, Buster and his parents, and it could have gotten even better. But no, she just had to meet someone. Who knew what would happen now? If things progressed with the new guy, probably nothing good. A part of him wished he had voiced his concerns. Instead, he had told his mother that he understood and wished her luck. "And I hope everything goes great," felt like the biggest lie Buster had ever told, and he had told some whoppers over the past few months.

Lost in thought, Buster was only vaguely aware that he was at school now, and he had to pull himself back to reality when Muffy grabbed his arm as he passed his locker.

"Buster! I hope you know your deduction skills are on point."

No, they aren't. I couldn't guess my mom was dating again. "Huh? Wait—what are you talking about?"

Muffy stepped in closer and said in a low voice, "Your theory about Raccoon Hill. Daddy spoke with Mr. Walters over the phone yesterday, and that's exactly why Fern left the Autumn Ball. Daddy told me after dinner. She went into the farmhouse and fell through the floor, all the way down into the basement and got hurt."

"Oh, that's awesome," he said flatly, then what he had just said dawned on him. "About my theory, not, you know…I'm sorry, Muffy, I need to find Ladonna."

Ladonna's locker was at the end of the hall, and there she stood right in front of it, still wearing her red puffer jacket, preparing for homeroom. It would seem she had caught sight of Buster in her periphery, for she turned to give him a cheerful wave, which Buster returned halfheartedly. His pace quickened. He had not been lying to Muffy when he told her he needed to find his girlfriend. Ladonna had a way of making everyone feel better, and he sure could use that right now. She was also least likely to judge him too harshly for what he was about to do. He hoped she would not, at least. She had tried to warn him at Bowl City, when she asked him to manage his expectations for his parents, and the last thing he needed was an "I told ya so". He felt so foolish. What was the harm in fantasizing, just a teensy bit, about his parents getting back together? He had discovered the answer to that question this morning.

"Hey," Ladonna said while she rummaged through her locker. "I know today is jam-packed and all, and we're gonna be runnin' around like chickens with their heads cut off, but we should all still be thinkin' of Fern, too. I thought it'd be nice if we all got together and made up a get-well care package for her. So if you don't mind, I need you and Sue Ellen and George to help me brainstorm this evenin' durin' break—oh Lord, what's wrong?"

At this, Buster's eyes screwed shut. He sniffled, and before the tears could begin to fall, he had buried his face in Ladonna's puffer-clad shoulder.

To be continued…