So she was missing what promised to be a good show. At least she was missing it for a good reason. She had to watch the twins. Jamie, as usual, had fallen asleep right after feeding. Marianna had them on the floor, so she could watch TV (muted, of course) while they slept. Amanda, it seemed, did not want to sleep. She wasn't fussing or crying, just laying on her back staring at... something. "Frankly, my dear, you creep me out," said Mari. Her voice echoed in the silent house. A commercial for Star Trek flitted across the TV screen. "And when is that series ever going to end?" She sighed. What was the point in talking to a newborn, anyway?

"Aa-aa-aa!" Amanda squealed. She waved her hands in the air.

"What, you want my attention?" Mari dropped to her knees and leaned over the baby. "Well?"

"Aa-aa-aa!"

"It sounds like you're trying to say your name!" Amanda laughed. On a whim, Mari asked, "Do you know your brother's name?"

Amanda's eyes rolled in Jamie's general direction. "Aa-eeee!" Marianna nearly passed out. It had to be coincidence. No three-week-old baby was this smart-- she hadn't been, Polly hadn't been. This was just a coincidence. Amanda's eyes moved back to Mari's face. "Ama!"

"Okay, you, that's quite enough. Like I said before, you creep me out. Stop acting like you're old enough to talk. I didn't even think about talking until I was five months... hey, I never started baby books for you guys!" Amanda gurgled. "Well, at least that's normal. Now, I know Daniela gave me baby books at the shower..." In a moment, Mari was settled on the floor beside the twins, Jamie still asleep and Amanda sucking contentedly on a plastic block.

"Let's see... born November 3, 2009, at... where did those birth certificates go?" Marianna muttered. Amanda gurgled again, stretched a little, dropped the block, and fell asleep. "Well, at least you'll be quiet now. Weight, 6 pounds, six ounces... length, 16 inches... and we stayed for three days." Mari yawned. "I shouldn't fall asleep... I have to be awake just in case..." The next sound heard in the empty house was soft snoring.

Inda, of course, wasn't in sight, although it was well known that he held a ticket to a box not far from the stage. It was also well known that Karina Brono held another ticket in that box, but whether she was returning to Layla:) for the premiere remained to be seen. Two other seats in the box were reserved for Marina Nett and her boyfriend, who would be visiting when their boat-school put in at the Layla:) Southern Docks. Alan, watching the backstage activity and self-consciously straightening his tux, guessed that Inda was still at the docks waiting for his daughter. Someone had to tell the girl that her mother was now married to Frogman and living in Brazil. Inda might be able to do it with tact.

While not actually doing anything, Alan was a catalyst, the new owner of the musical stirring everyone else in to action. In a moment of generosity, or stupidity, perhaps, he had agreed to bail out the financial savior of the Frogwar. The million dollars, pocket change for him, would hold Inda over for a few years. He was well aware that Inda still held licensing rights for the individual songs, while he owned the script license. This meant Inda could profit from the use of the songs, while Alan would profit from stage productions.

The music was good; there was no doubt about that. Besides the million he now had from the sale of the show, Inda would make plenty off of licensing fees... that is, if the show got off the ground tonight. Alan knew quite well that reviewers from three local papers had reserved seats for tonight, and one was from the Times of Layla:). Her opinion nearly always made or broke the success of a show. She'd liked Jens Herrkauf, hence the success of every show he'd been in, and his ensuing stardom. Alan hoped she liked Mateo just as much. He had more than money at stake in this project... Marianna would be very upset if the show flopped. It wasn't a matter of money, really; it was more about doing something stupid. Mari didn't much like stupidity.

When she got back, there was the forgotten sheet music among the violas, the timpani that didn't sound right (apparently, someone had used it as a laundry basket-- a bath towel was blocking the vibrations), and the electric guitarist who'd forgotten his amp. This time, she walked down quietly, hoping no one would notice her and she could hide among the brasses until the show was over. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and she sighed with defeat.

"Dream, can we tune now?" asked Tomas, his French horn dangling from his hand.

"Thank the gods it's just you!" she smiled, relieved. "Yes, let's get to the back, quickly. I still don't see why I was put in charge. I've hardly had time to practice this week, I've been so busy running rehearsals and working with everyone to make sure they know their music."

"Inda's still supposed to be conducting, isn't he?" Tomas said, his red hair glinting in the dim light.

"Yes... it bothers me that he never showed up to any rehearsals."

"He has reserved seats. Box seats. I don't think he'll be conducting."

Dream raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" Tomas swallowed hard and shrank back a little. Dream wasn't prone to violence, but she had been under a lot of stress lately... one never could tell what would happen. "I'll be right back."

Tomas breathed deeply as Dream bounded away up the stairs, her long blonde ponytail streaming behind her. It was a good thing he'd said something now, instead of just before the show.

Dream had one thing on her mind, and surprisingly, it wasn't how she would kill Inda. She had to find UPChuck. He'd spent enough time at rehearsals that he knew how to conduct it. He'd even conducted occasionally when she'd prefered to play with the orchestra. If anyone could bail them out now, it was Uly.

The only problem was tracking him down.

"Look, if you aren't going to buy anything, get out!" Phil finally cried. "I have things to do tonight, y'know!"

"Do you get much business in here?" he asked calmly, not looking up. "With that attitude..."

Phil gave a frustrated squeak and threw a wildflower at him.

"Hey, that's perfect!" UPChuck said, picking the flower up off of the floor. "Give me a bouquet of random wildflowers."

"You spend an hour looking at roses to buy wildflowers?!" she wailed. "Take them, free, just get out of here!"

He accepted the bouquet, bowing. As he stepped through the door, UPChuck threw a crumpled bill onto the counter. Philippa picked it up, smoothed it out, and nearly fell over. It was a hundred dollar bill. She ran after him, wanting to offer change. After all, the bouquet was only worth five dollars at most-- but he had disappeared. Phil sighed. At least she'd turned a profit today.

Finally, the boat stopped moving, the dock-hands threw up the gangway, and a hundred or so teenagers flooded down to the dock carrying overnight bags. Inda strained to see his little girl, but when Marina came up and threw her arms around him, he barely recognized her. She had grown half a foot and now stood taller than Inda, her tan was deeper than the traditional Calypsoan glow, and her hair reached halfway down her back. She was wearing a touch of makeup, and her nails were French manicured. She was in a dress that could only be described as stunning, and she filled it out well.

"You missed my birthday, Dad," she smiled, and he noticed she'd gotten her braces off. "We had a picnic on a deserted island in the Bahamas, and Marty bought me this necklace." She lifted the gold chain away from her neck, and Inda could see that there were two perfect, tiny black pearls flanking an amethyst.

He pursed his lips in thought. If those were real, it was much too expensive a gift for a sixteen-year-old boy to be buying his daughter. And he had missed her birthday... her sweet sixteen. He would put off telling her about Doreen until he got her a present. Maybe a car... maybe she'll stay in Layla:) if I get her a car. Something small and red, or maybe a custom color.

Now Marina was beckoning to Marty, who had been bidding farewell to various friends from the boat. They would be staying in a hotel, as was common for shore trips, while Marty would be staying at Inda's house with Marina. "Dad, this is Jefferson Montmartre, but we all call him Marty." Inda smiled politely and shook the boy's hand while sizing him up. No taller than Inda (Marina towered over both of them), intelligent-looking, as far as that went, and extremely polite. He was also wearing a tuxedo, which oddly enough put Inda at ease.

"Very nice to meet you, sir. I understand we'll be going to the premiere of your musical. I must say, I'm quite excited. I love musical theatre."

"Dad, Marty's going to be Beast in Big Boat's production of Beauty and the Beast," Marina said eagerly, hoping this might further put Marty in a favorable light.

"Of course, she doesn't tell you that she's going to be Beauty!" laughed Marty. "Such a lady, so modest."

Inda smiled vaguely. Marty had been approved of, and it did indeed look like Marina was turning into a well-bred young lady. "Montmartre..." he began. "Of the Newshregsburg Montmartres?"

Marty smiled at the recognition. "I personally am from Vallejo, California, but my grandparents lived in Newshregsburg until their deaths."

"A good man, your grandfather. Old Jeff always supported the arts in Layla:), and left a good deal to the theatre community in Newshregsburg as well. Perhaps you'd like to see the Montmartre Theatre on Broadway? And I remember seeing your grandmother on stage when I was a child. A beautiful woman, and a wonderful actress. I only wish she were still alive, so I could ask her to sing in my show."

"I wish I could have met my grandparents," Marty said, "but I only saw Grandmother once, at Grandfather's funeral. I was... perhaps five years old, and didn't really understand what was going on, where I was, who people were."

"It's an awful time to lose someone, when you're that young," Marina said, laying a hand on his arm, "and worse if you didn't really know them to begin with." Inda and Marty both saw something faraway in her eyes, something that couldn't be defined. As far as either knew, no one Marina had known had died... what could she be thinking of?

Inda cleared his throat nervously. "If you'd like to see my musical, Marty, perhaps we'd better go to the limo?"

"Goodness, yes!" cried Marina, taking Marty's right arm and Inda's left, and dragged them both toward the parking lot. All of the other students had left already, and the parking lot was vacant except for Inda's limo. Marina greeted the driver, McGregor, with a bear hug and a cheery "Hi!"

"Directly to the theatre, McGregor, except swing down Broadway so I can point out the Montmartre Theatre to this young man."

"Yessir!" said McGregor, saluting smartly and clicking his heels together. It was rather sarcastically done, but Inda had employed the young man for three years and was more than willing to put up with the oddities. As long as his driving record was clean, Inda would take almost anything from McGregor.

In the limo, Marina went straight for the refrigerator. "We can have a little champagne, right, Dad? It's a night for celebration!" She pulled out the champagne and three chilled glasses, popped the cork carefully (miraculously, it didn't fizz all over), and waited patiently as Marty insisted on pouring. He made sure that he and Marina only had a little in their glasses, instinctively knowing that Inda did not actually want the teens to be drinking.

"Still acting before getting permission, I see," Inda said over his glass, but his eyes were smiling and Marina knew she couldn't be in terribly much trouble.

"Oh, always. I'm incorrigible." She winked, then leaned over Marty to point out Club Calypso as the limo slid past.

Alan let the phone ring until the answering machine picked up, but hung up without leaving a message. He waited a moment for the machine to run through its "hung-up-on" cycle, then called again. Again, Mari didn't pick up. Surely, if she was asleep, she would have woken up by now. Or at least one of the kids would have woken up and started screaming.

Alan cracked his knuckles while thinking. He couldn't leave now, not five minutes before the show started. There was no one to send over there, either. And he wasn't getting the feeling that there was something wrong. Alan and Mari were unusually attuned to each other, like when he'd said 'babies' instead of 'baby,' and the next day Amanda showed up on the ultrasound. So without the worried feeling in the pit of his stomach, Alan wasn't sure if he really should be worried.

Finally, he pocketed his cell phone and walked through the backstage area one last time. He shook Nic's hand and gave Priscilla a hug (she was pale and shaking, and he hoped she wouldn't faint). Alan moved over to where Mateo was, and gave him one of those manly, back-pounding hugs, and a "break a leg." Mateo grinned. Tchadde, whom Alan vaguely remembered as the only surviving ex-boyfriend of Daniela, waved cheerfully as K.C. finished his makeup. He would be playing Mateo's character's brother. Ego, recently detached from Jens Herrkauf, was playing a girl named Dawn, the third recast (the parts of Lauren and Jeff being the first two). She accepted a quick hug from Alan without stopping a last-minute rehearsal of her half of a duet.

Ivory, the female lead who wouldn't be onstage until halfway through the first act, was perhaps more nervous than Priscilla. Ivory's version of nervous, however, was decidedly more active than 'Cilla's. She was bouncing around, twirling in the bohemian skirt that was her first costume, and basically driving everyone else crazy. Alan was almost afraid to hug her, but Ivory wasn't going to let him get away without it.

"Ohmigod, this is great, isn't it?" she cried, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him until he thought he would suffocate.

"Great," he gasped. "Can I breathe now?"

"Oh, yeah!" She let go. "My first lead role! I'm even on the marquee!"

"Yes, you are. Have fun tonight," he laughed. "Break a leg."

"Thanks! You'd better get out of here, if you want to watch the whole show."

He nodded, checked his watch. Two minutes or so till showtime.

"Two minutes!" screamed K.C.

"I thought she was the makeup and prop girl, not the stage manager," said Alan.

"Yep!" grinned Ivory.

"I'm... leaving now," he said, then slipped out the door and down the hallway to the lobby. He had box seats: one for himself, one for Polly (who was being driven by one of her school-friends' parents), and one for Marianna. They had planned on getting a baby-sitter, even begging her mother to take the kids for the night, but Mari had remembered a bad babysitting experience from when she was a teen. She had been watching an eight-month-old who was simply not prepared to be separated from her mother, and she cried the entire night. While the twins had been left with Alan quite often over the past three weeks, Mari asserted that there was a difference between a parent and... well, anyone else. It would be better if she stayed home.

So Mari was at home, Alan's date for the evening was Polly, and the fourth in their box was unknown. He walked through the lobby briskly, attempting to find his three-foot, blonde stepdaughter. It seemed that many people had waited till the last minute to find their seats. Maybe Polly would find him before he found her. He hoped so. Being taller than the majority of the theatre-goers wasn't helpful when Polly was so much shorter than everyone else. Then he saw her, near the stairs talking to Daniela.

Dani's hair was longer than Alan had remembered it, but then again she usually wore it up. Tonight it was down, with just two small braids at her temples. It was darker than he'd remembered, too, and suspected it was her natural color. It was close to Mari's, anyway. She was wearing a shimmery blue dress, short-skirted and spaghetti strapped, and a coordinating crepe wrap. As he drew closer, he could see the braid from her left temple was blue... oddly, it looked very natural. He wondered if it was like Mari's pink streak, an unnatural color appearing naturally.

"Um, hello," he said.

"Oh, hi!" she said, perky but detached. They didn't get along, but agreed to disagree as long as they were in-laws. "Polly and I were just chatting about our seats, and it turns out we're in the same box."

"Isn't that nice? Well, we should probably get upstairs. When I left, they were sending around a two-minute warning. While they'll wait until nearly everyone is seated, we don't want to hold them up."

Daniela's eyes finally met Alan's, and he had to keep himself from gasping. He'd known she was beautiful, or at least had agreed with everyone else when they'd said so. But until that moment of eye contact, he hadn't truly fathomed her beauty. A word from Polly, though, reminded him that he was married to Daniela's sister, who was right now taking care of their children.

"Then let's go," piped up Polly.

"Yes, let's," Daniela said, giving him an odd look. Dammit, girl, never make eye contact! That's what makes them fall... oh, well, Mari should be able to snap him out of it... if she wants to. I don't want him, anyway.