“Have you called to notify your father that we’re all right?” Peggy asked Michael. “It just occurred to me that everyone must be terribly worried about us.”
“Can’t call,” Michael replied, frowning. “The phone’s out. Wire’s blown down, I guess. But I’m not too worried. I’m pretty sure Dad will assume we stayed on the other side of the lake because of the storm. It’s happened before. He’ll have called Mrs. Hopkins, and the theater for you, Peggy.”
Peggy noticed the worry in Michael’s eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling her, she felt sure. Mrs. Cook came to the rescue, gently putting her hand on Peggy’s shoulder as she said, “I’m afraid you may have to stay here all day, dear. My husband took the boat to town and couldn’t get back last night in the storm. He called to tell me before the phone went out. None of the boats are out today. We’ll just have to wait until it clears before you can be picked up.”
“But the show!” Peggy cried. “I have to get back for the opening.”
“Well, maybe you can,” Mrs. Cook placated her. “It should clear by evening, and my husband is sure to return as soon as he can.”
But as the hours progressed, the storm showed no sign of relenting. The wind whistled angrily, blowing the rain in blinding sheets. No boat could dare the lake in weather like this.
“A fine idea I had!” Michael accused himself grimly. “A little fun, a little relaxation—and what happens? I not only wreck the Merry Mac, but I’m responsible for your missing the show!”
“Oh, Michael, it isn’t your fault,” Peggy comforted him. But she was sick at heart. She had felt so optimistic about her new approach to the part, ready to play Evelyn tonight as if she had never played it before. Now she might not even be there. She had no doubt as to what Chuck would do; he would have Alison play the part and get somebody to read the model for this one performance. It had been done before in stock. And there went Peggy’s chance to prove herself, not only to the company, but to a deep part of her that said, “If I fail this, the opportunity may never come again.” She wandered over to the window and stood there, looking out, trying to hold back the tears of disappointment. “Maybe it’s better this way,” she told herself. “Perhaps I wouldn’t do any better than I have all week.” But she remembered Randy’s words as he left her that day on the bus—“You’re a fine actress and I have faith in you!” Randy must have foreseen both the part and the trouble with Alison. What he could never have imagined was the possibility of Peggy’s not being there to play it at all.
By six o’clock the storm finally showed signs of subsiding. Peggy anxiously watched the sky, wondering if it would be possible after all to get back in time for the curtain. At seven-thirty the rain had stopped and the wind was reduced to a murmur. Mrs. Cook took the group down to the dock to watch for her husband’s boat. “He’s sure to come soon,” she said. “I think you’ll make it, Peggy.”
Peggy strained to see across the lake. The sky was still gray, but in the distance they could hear a motor.