You Outshine the Morning Sun

Lin

"Cam!" I yelled down the hallway as I rushed to put the rest of my items in my bag for the evening.  I doubted she could hear me over her music.  Country music blared from her room.  Yes, country music.  I have no idea how a child of mine became the world's biggest fan of country music, but my daughter did.  As a fan of hip-hop and rap, it killed me.

I pounded on her door a couple times.  "Cam!  We leave in ten!"

"Okay!" she yelled back.

We were already running late for the show.  I'd fed Cam an early dinner, but she had a tendency to get hungry later in the evening.  I quickly packed some healthy snacks and added them to my bag.  A few minutes later, my ten year old daughter, Camila, emerged from her bedroom with her backpack.  She was wearing jeans and her well-worn Hamilton hoodie like usual.  I made a mental note I needed to get her a new one.  Otherwise, people would probably start thinking I was neglecting my child.

"Ready?" I asked, and she nodded.

We hurried out the door and found our way underground to the subway station.  I was supposed to be there an hour before curtain call, and it was 6:30 now.  I was cutting it close.  When we arrived at Richard Rodgers theatre, we rushed straight up to my dressing room.  Cam plopped herself down on the couch and put her Chucks up on the table.  I quickly gave them a swat.

"I'm gonna need you to be on top of your homework tonight," I told her as I took off my jacket and threw it on another chair.  "I don't think I'll have a chance to come check on you between acts."

"I'll be fine, Dad," she told me as she plugged in her earbuds.

"Don't do your homework with your earbuds in," I reminded her as he began going through his costume items.  She probably rolled her eyes at me but I didn't see because I quickly stripped my shirt off and started putting on my white 18th century shirt.  I kicked off my jeans and pulled up my pants over my boxers, rushing to get everything on.  The hair and make-up lady knocked on my door and I told her to come in.

"You're in the chair in 5," she told me and I thanked her.  I finished buttoning up my shirt and turned to look at my kid, who already looked bored out of her mind.

"How do I look?" I asked her.

"Like a dork," she quipped.  I gave her a mock-insulted look and headed for the door. 

"Homework!" I called to her as I left the room.

____

I walked into the hair and make-up room and took a seat in the chair.  I was already sick of having to wear long hair.  I had a new respect for women and their hair.  It took forever to dry.  At least I could just throw it back in a ponytail most days.  The hair stylist took out my elastic band and began to comb through it to make a perfect, neat ponytail.  My face got some powder, and pretty soon I was done.  I thanked her and headed for the door.  As I was leaving the room, I almost ran straight into Philippa Soo, my stage wife.

"Oh, sorry!" She apologized, smiling sweetly at me.

"My fault," I told her as I moved to the right to go around her.  At the same time, she moved to her left.  We chuckled uncomfortably before I put a hand on her shoulder and stepped to my right again.  As I walked past her, I caught a whiff of her perfume.  She always smelled so fresh and it was starting to drive me a little crazy.

A few minutes later, the whole cast met backstage for a prayer, a tradition we started on opening night when we were all terrified out of our minds.  We all joined hands and bowed our heads as Leslie led us.  Philippa was standing across the circle and I momentarily glanced up at her.  She looked perfect, as usual.  Her first dress of the production was beautiful, and it fit her perfectly.  She was an 18th century vision.