Mama Dearest Read Free

Atlanta and was a member ofher theater group. She was the one who talked him into auditioning for this show,” Violet said.
    I was not going to engage her in this Nicole banter so I just handed her the corkscrew. “Now don’t make me have to knock on your door to get this back.”
    “Thanks,” she said popping up from the chair, “and don’t worry, you won’t have to. As soon as my company leaves I will bring it back. If you don’t answer I’ll leave it by your door.”
    “Don’t do that because if it comes up missing, I’m still coming back to you. Understand?” What did it say about my depressed life that I was clutching a corkscrew the way a diabetic relies on insulin.
    “I hear you. Thanks, Yancey. You’re the best.”
    I shut the door and thought, I once was the best and very soon I’ll be the best again. These bitches better get out of my way!

    I WAS SITTING AT my dressing-room table removing my makeup when I heard a knock at the door.
    “Come in,” I shouted.
    Dalton McGurdy, the understudy for C. C. White, stuck his head in and asked if he could talk to me for a moment.
    I like Dalton more than most of the chorus boys but now I was a little apprehensive since he knew Nicole. He was talented and a bit unusual. I assumed he was gay but he was also in charge of the weekly Bible studies the cast held that I never attended. I didn’t see how a gay boy could conduct biweekly Bible study. But this was the theater, where conventional rules didn’t apply.
    “Sure, Dalton, come on in.”
    Dalton was light brown and on the thin side. He had an unshaven face and had recently cut his dreads, which made him look boyishand not old enough to play the main character, Effie’s brother, and my love interest in the first half of the show. Thank God we didn’t have any kissing scenes.
    “I only need to see you for a few moments. Here’s a CD of some of the songs I’ve written. It’s classic R & B kinda like Stephanie Mills and Angela Winbush used to sing. I think you have the perfect voice for the songs.”
    “Okay, lay it on my dresser and I’ll listen to them when I get a chance.”
    Why did all of these kids think they could write music or choreograph dances just because they were in a show?
    “Take your time because I just found out I might have a gig in New York after this show closes and we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it.”
    “I thought you were going back to Atlanta.”
    “No, hon, I’m from Athens, Georgia, you know, the University of Georgia, go bulldogs.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t mind me, I was just making a little joke, or should I say making a little cheer.”
    “Whatever, Dalton.”
    “Danni—I told you my good friends call me Danni.”
    “Okay, Danni,” I said, wondering when we had suddenly become good friends.
    “See you at the next show or maybe back at the hotel.”
    “Okay, whatever. Hey, I heard you were really tight with Nicole Springer.”
    “You mean Nicole Springer-Stovall? Oh, I just love her. She is the greatest. Ms. Stovall said she knew you back in the day.”
    “What did she say about me?”
    “Oh, that you were really talented, beautiful and a real go-getter.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah, I think she respects you a lot. She encouraged me with my songwriting.”
    “Then why didn’t you give her the songs? I remember an okay voice,” I said.
    “Nicole is done with that side of the business. She told me she just loves teaching and being a wife and mother.”
    “Oh, I forgot what they say. Those who can’t, teach,” I said with a wicked grin.
    “Well, let me get out of here,” Dalton said with slight disappointment in his voice. If he wanted to really work with me he was going to have to get over his infatuation with Nicole Springer.
    “Whatever, Dalton.”
    Dalton left my dressing room and it was back to my mirror time.

    S OMETIMES I DON’T LIKE what I see in the mirror and this evening before I left for the theater was no different. I decided