A cacophony of exclamations greeted this pronouncement.
“Can’t you ask for a continuance? An extension? Something?” demanded Tucker.
“Done and done. We’ve been operating on an extension for the last several months. The bank has been bought out by another bank and the new management is disinclined to allow that extension to continue. It was all I could do to get them to allow the show to finish. Come end of December, the Madrigal is closing its doors. I’m sorry.”
Conversation exploded as everyone tried to comment at once. Brody heard Tyler’s sound of disgust and distress and pulled her in for a hard hug. Stanton slipped out in the midst of the ensuing chaos.
Coward, thought Brody. I’m surprised he had the guts deliver the news himself.
“People. People! Settle down,” called Nate. He waited for silence. “This is certainly disappointing news. It appears we’ve run out of time and options.”
“So now what?” asked Myles.
Nate squared his shoulders. “Rehearsals will continue as planned. The show will open in three weeks. And it’s going to be the best damned performance any of us has ever given. If we’re going out, then by damn, we’re going out with a bang.”
There were remarks of half-hearted agreement with that, a few apathetic cheers, but it was hard for anyone to muster much enthusiasm.
Rehearsal wrapped afte
r that. Tyler said nothing as she gathered her gear and walked out to Brody’s truck. She remained silent on the drive back to her house, her arms curled around her bag like a teddy bear. As soon as he stopped, she slid out of the truck and trudged up the steps. There she stopped, swearing as she went purse diving for keys.
“Here, let me,” he said, stepping past her to use the key she’d given him over the weekend.
Inside she tucked her bag into one of the clever little cubbies beside the front door as he dumped his keys into a decorative bowl.
Arms no longer full of bag, Tyler crossed them over her middle. “It’s really over,” she said. Her words felt like heavy stones in the silence. “All that work, and for what? To see our history sold off and destroyed?” The bleak expression on her face tore at him.
Brody reached for her. “Tyler…”
She came into his arms, but her expression was mutinous. “Don’t you dare tell me you can fix it. This isn’t a broken pipe or some bad wiring. It isn’t a cave in or a restoration project anymore. This can’t be fixed by any means you or I possess.”
She wasn’t wrong, so he didn’t argue. And yet his mind spun, searching for a way—any way—because he couldn’t bear to see her brutal disappointment.
“It was all for nothing,” she pronounced, voice thick with tears she wouldn’t let fall.
“It wasn’t for nothing,” Brody insisted, giving her a little shake. “It gave us us back. And that’s worth more than anything else. The theater closing doesn’t change that. It can’t. We’re more than our history, Tyler.”
Her lips curved a little. “You’ve gotten smarter as you’ve gotten older.”
“Just stating a fact,” he said, curling his arms tighter around her as she burrowed in.
There was, he realized, so much more here for him than there had been, even at twenty-two. He wanted the time and the opportunity to explore it, to nurture it. Quite simply, he wanted the life he and Tyler always dreamed of. With the Babylon project quickly winding down, that was going to take an even bigger feat of mental acrobatics to sort than the financial problems of the Madrigal. Which meant that he had a lot more than punch out work to discuss with Gerald when he arrived later this week.
At the thought of his boss, Brody’s mind sparked. The first niggle of an idea began to take shape.
“I think I’m going to have a bath before bed,” said Tyler, tugging away.
“Sure.”
As she started toward the back of the house, Brody began to turn over details, making mental lists of things to research, specifics that would have to be worked out.
“I wouldn’t mind some company,” she called.
“I never turn down such an invitation from a gorgeous woman.” Brody headed back, deciding he wouldn’t mention his idea to her. It was crazy. A long shot, at best. There was no reason to get her hopes up. But if he could come up with the right angle, the right pitch, there might be a way to save the theater.
~*~
“Can I get you anything else?” asked Tyler.