Not a Day Goes By by E. Lynn Harris

homemade rolls.
    “Let me fix you a plate and you tell me what’s the matter.”
    Yancey took a seat at the granite kitchen counter and told her roommate how she had gone to audition for a new musical by George Wolfe. She told Windsor how it was going to be the hottest musical of the season and suddenly the female lead had left the workshop to get married. Windsor listened intently as she poured a cup of sugar into a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemons and water.
    “This is going to be a great role and it’s not going to Audra or Vanessa,” Yancey said before taking a sip of the lemonade Windsor had placed in front of her.
    “How do you know you didn’t get the part?” Windsor asked as she piled a couple of pieces of golden-brown chicken on a cobalt-blue plate and pulled out a yellow linen napkin from a nearby drawer.
    “Right after I sang my song I knew I wouldn’t get this job. I sang my standard audition number. A song from a show I saw in Nashville once. The show was
Merrily We
Roll Along
and the song is called ‘Not a Day Goes By.’ It’s a beautiful song by Stephen Sondheim, and I was in perfect voice. My agent had told me to prepare two songs to sing. But right after I finished the first, the casting agent just said, ‘Thank you.’ Now I know you don’t know much about the theater, but that is the kiss of death. It’s like saying, ‘Kiss my ass, bitch. You have no talent.’ ”
    “Now, Yancey, you know that’s not true. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever seen on stage. And look how beautiful you look today.”
    Yancey was getting ready to bite into a piece of the chicken when Windsor quickly grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s say grace.”
    Yancey looked at her as if she were crazy and said, “You go ahead.”
    Windsor closed her eyes and looked toward the ceiling and started to pray. “Lord, we thank you for this food our bodies are about to receive. We thank you for this day and the blessing of life. Lord, we ask that you help Yancey to understand that something good will come from disappointment. That you’re a good God and you know what’s best for us. Lord, most of all we just thank you for being you and loving us and dying for our sins. Amen.”
    When Windsor opened her eyes Yancey was staring at her in amazement. “Girl, you sound like a preacher.”
    Windsor ignored Yancey’s comment and asked, “Is that what you wore to the audition?”
    “Yes,” Yancey said. She took a bit of the piping-hot chicken. Windsor looked at her in amazement, since she had never seen Yancey take a bite of anything that remotely looked like it had been drenched in hot oil. Yancey was wearing a pale pink, tight silk skirt with a black shortsleeved cashmere sweater complemented by a thin string of pearls around her neck. Her hair was pulled back, revealing matching pearl earrings. While Yancey was eating, Windsor unloaded an arsenal of supportive words. “You will be just fine. That casting person is going to wake up tonight and say, ‘What am I doing? I just turned down the most talented and beautiful woman in New York City.’ Trust me, you’ll be getting a call very soon and if not for that job, then something much, much better.”
    “Can you cast a spell on him?” Yancey joked.
    “Now, Yancey, you know I don’t believe in any of that demonic stuff. You just put it in the hands of the Lord,” Windsor said.
    “So you think that’s better than a spell or just finding out who got the job and kicking her ass?” Yancey quizzed.
    “I know it is,” Windsor said confidently.
    “So what do you have planned for this evening?”
    “I rented a movie. You want to watch it with me?” Windsor asked.
    “What did you get?”
    “A Perfect Murder.”
    “I’ve already seen that, I think. Isn’t that with Michael Douglas and Gwyneth Paltrow?”
    “I think so.”
    “Yeah, I saw that. It’s pretty good, and nobody plays ‘white girl’ like Gwyneth Paltrow,” Yancey said before she