Chapter 4

When my gaudy birthday cake appears, ablaze, I close my eyes and pucker.

Vic casts his eyes heavenward. “Blow out your candles, Laura.”

Sarah’s eager to learn the lingo. “Laura? Is that what you go by on nights like this, Barry?”

Someone summarizes The Glass Menageriefor Sarah, or at least I think they are, because I hear “Laura Wingfield”—the mentally fragile sister character from the play—being mentioned not “Laura Petrie” or “Laura Ingalls Wilder.”

Our best friend Potsy disbelievingly echoes, “…on nights like this.”

Thank God everyone ignored Andy’s edict and tithed me. I flip around a playbill from the original flop—not the 2012 flop revival—Carrie: The Musicaland announce, “Carrie. There’s never been a musical like her.”

Neil’s justifiably proud. “See where the star signed it? Betty Buckle.”

I laugh so hard I snort. “Buckley. With a Y!”