Another Mother Page 6

  “I was overdue for a haircut,” she mumbled.

  “No excuses necessary. It’s working for you.” Her eyeliner was clumsily applied and messy, and yet it still made her eyes look larger and more dramatic. I’d have to see if I could pull aside one of the make-up artists and ask them to give her a quick lesson.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking down.

  What was the point of putting in the effort to look good if she was just going to avoid any attention? “Isn’t that cut working for her?” I asked the other actors. “Jim, tell her she looks amazing.”

  Jim cleared his throat. “You look as gorgeous as ever, Sarah, but we should really get started.”

  Sarah’s cheeks were pink. “Sorry.”

  As we started to read through the fourth episode, I could see it was going to be a doozy. Both families were freaking out, and with one member of each family gone, the survivors realized they had to work together—all the while realizing that no one could be trusted. And shit was getting dark.

  “I don’t care if I live or die anymore,” Autumn read. “I don’t want to be alive without Mom. I’ll always wonder if I could’ve saved her somehow!”

  “No, don’t say that,” Aaron said as her father. “You have so much to live for, darling.”

  “Does she?” Cole grunted, playing the teenage son. “Because the way I see it, we’re all at fault for Mom dying. Archer, too.”

  “Your mother would’ve wanted you to live!” Aaron said, and even though it was only a cold read, his voice cracked. I would’ve sworn he was a moment away from crying.

  I cleared my throat. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” I said. “I—oh, my stomach hurts.”

  “What do you want?” Aaron snapped.

  “I just think we all need to cooperate if we want to have any chance of getting out of here alive.”

  “Are you deaf?” Autumn said. “I don’t want to live.”

  “Lida, I’ve known you since you were in diapers. Your mother was one of my best friends since college. I miss her as much as you do, so don’t act like you’re the only one who’s lost someone here. Not to mention that my own husband died!”

  “Fine,” Autumn said. “What do you propose we do?”

  *

  The characters dug out a space to put the two dead bodies outside, keeping them on ice. They were rationing their food, eating as little as they could, so everyone was going to be hungry and irritable.

  Tomorrow, we’d be filming the scenes where we all stayed in the kitchen until nightfall, staring each other down. I could feel the tension rolling off the page when I read the script. It was going to look amazing when it was all on camera.

  I headed into the boardroom at the end of the day, finding Sarah typing away with her big headphones on. She looked adorable. I crossed the room and mussed up her hair, making her gasp and put her hands to her heart before she looked up and saw that it was me.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” she said. “Why are you in here?”

  “Just thought I’d come say hi.” I wasn’t sure why, myself. “Emma’s changing back to her street clothes.” And I’d changed extra-fast so I could come here before she was done.

  “How was the afternoon?” Sarah asked.

  “Everything went pretty smoothly, aside from the part where Emma kept forgetting to turn on her lavalier mic.”

  “Oh, shoot. That’s the kind of thing I’m supposed to be helping out with.”

  I frowned at her. “No, it’s the techs’ job. You’re not supposed to do anything but bring Emma here every day.”

  “I’m her mom. It’s my responsibility.”

  “Your responsibility is to chill out from time to time.” I pulled the headphones off her neck and set them on the table. “When’s the last time you relaxed, anyway?”

  “I just got my hair cut.”

  “Doesn’t count. You said you were overdue for that.”

  She pursed her lips. “I had coffee with a friend.”

  “When?”

  “Last weekend, when I was dropping Emma off at her place.”

  I gaped. “Do you even hear yourself?”

  “Well, what do you want me to do? I’m a working single mom. We’re not known for having spare time. Things’ll get better in December, when the season’s done.”

  “You need a massage.”

  “Are you offering?”

  She was really going to ask me to buy her a massage? “I do know a good place, if you want to write it down.”

  “Like I have time to go anywhere? I thought you were going to give me one now.”

  I burst into laughter. “Honey, I get massages. I don’t have the first clue how to give one.”

  “You don’t want to try?” Her eyes lingered on mine.

  Was she flirting with me? God knew I’d love to get my hands on her, but not to rub out any knots. “Maybe another time,” I said. “Why don’t we have lunch tomorrow, though?”

  She looked at the floor. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, you’re a glamorous actress. I know you don’t want to spend time with a dowdy old mom.”

  I snorted. “You realize you’re only six years older than me, right?”

  “Six years, and a whole lot of life experience.”

  That was true. She’d been married and divorced, had a kid… all I’d ever done was act, drink, and complain. “It’s up to you. It’s just that we’re both here anyway, and I happen to find you more interesting than anyone else on set.”

  She blinked. “Oh… I get it. Are you doing research for your character, or something?”

  I should’ve been. I’d completely forgotten about that. “Nope,” I said. “I’m just being friendly.”

  “You’re pretty bad at it.” Emma appeared at the door, and Sarah waved at her before turning back to me. “Lunch tomorrow. You’re on.”

  *

  I came into the boardroom as soon as we broke for the morning. Since Sarah was immune to the world, I snuck up behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, squeezing and releasing in an imitation of a massage.

  After a moment of panic, she took off her headphones and relaxed under my touch. “You’re actually not bad for a first-timer.”

  I pressed on the area around her neck. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m probably hurting more than I’m helping..”

  “Feels good, though. Hurt me all you want.” Her head fell forward and she let out a low moan.

  A twinge went through my core at that sound, paired with the heat of her skin against mine. I dropped my hands and took a step back. “Is Emma coming with us?”

  “I told her to do her own thing,” she said. “One of the make-up ladies is keeping an eye on her, just in case. I didn’t know if you wanted her tagging along.”

  “Just you and me is fine.” I hadn’t been sure if an eight-year-old would be okay on her own. There were always sandwiches provided on set and plenty of people to look after her, so I guessed it wasn’t a problem.

  Sarah and I headed out of the door and over to my car. “Nice ride,” she said, checking out the red paint and chrome plating.

  “It gets me from point A to point B.” It was only flashy compared to her station wagon. By celebrity standards, it was a lemon.

  We were in the car before I remembered to tell Sarah where we were going. “I know a nice Mexican place a few minutes from here, if that works for you.”

  “I’m actually not a big fan of Mexican.”

  I glanced from the road to her face, checking whether she was serious. She looked like she was. “We can’t be friends anymore.”

  “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  “What else did you want to be?”

  She was quiet for a second, adjusting her seatbelt across her chest. “We can get Mexican if you want. It’s just not my favorite.”

  “Something else is fine. Thai? Greek? Cambodian?”

  She laughed. “Let’s play it
safe and go for Greek.”

  A few minutes later, we were seated in a restaurant, a salad in front of each of us. The place was nearly empty, and was quiet except for the soft music playing. It felt more than a little romantic, and I reminded myself that this wasn’t a date.

  “These salads are huge,” Sarah said, stabbing a chunk of feta cheese. “I should cancel my souvlaki.”

  “Eat! Live a little.”

  “Says the girl who probably couldn’t gain a pound if she tried.”

  I shrugged. I was content with my body, but Sarah’s was also gorgeous. “If you don’t want your souvlaki, take it home with you.”

  That seemed to be good enough for her, and we made small talk about the TV show and Emma’s gymnastics lessons for a few minutes. I fidgeted, wanting to get to the meaty stuff. She had a way of keeping distance between herself and everyone else, and I wanted to tear that guard down. I wanted to know why she felt she needed it in the first place.

  A waiter took away our salad plates and deposited skewered meat in front of each of us. Along with the roasted potatoes and grilled vegetables, it had my mouth watering.

  “So, tell me what divorce is like.” I took a bite of melt-in-your-mouth chicken as Sarah jerked in surprise.

  “You really get straight to the point, don’t you?”

  “I guess I’m a to-the-point person. I’m just totally curious.”

  “And you’ve never heard of a little thing called tact, I see.” She took a piece of green pepper and chewed thoughtfully. “It was horrendous. Brutal. Felt like my whole life had fallen apart, and five years later I’m still working on putting it back together. Anything else you want to know?”

  “All of it.” I held my fork limply, forgetting all about the food. “Or if it’s too painful, tell me what marriage was like.”

  She sighed. “These are some intense topics you’re bringing up, Katie.”

  “If it’s too personal, we can talk about something else. I just don’t know how it all works.”

  “Haven’t you been in a long-term relationship?”

  I chuckled before realizing she was serious. “No. No, I haven’t. I have my fun, but it doesn’t go much farther than that.”

  “Why is that? No girl has grabbed your attention?”

  “Hey. We were talking about you, remember?”

  Her mouth full of potato, she gave me an innocent look. “I guess I’m a to-the-point person,” she parroted. “I’m just totally curious.”

  “All right, touché.” I sipped my water. “I’ll tell you about my love life if you tell me about yours. Deal?”

  “Uh…” She tipped her head to one side, then the other, considering. “I guess, sure.”

  “So, this ex of yours…”

  “David.” She toyed with the corner of her cloth napkin. “We met in college, second year. I hadn’t dated much up to that point, and suddenly the guy friend I’d always thought was out of my league was spending every minute with me, and it felt like a romance movie come to life. We got married as soon as we graduated, and Emma came along a year after.”

  I nodded. “And then…”

  “He changed,” she said flatly. “He claimed he hadn’t wanted to be a dad just yet, even though Emma was planned. He was too young, he needed to get out and enjoy life—never mind that I was the same age, he had no problem leaving me at home with a crying infant while he went out and lived it up.”

  “What a piece of shit.”

  “Exactly. By the time he said he was taking off to New York, I already felt like a single mother. Our relationship had died a long time earlier, but I would’ve stayed in it for Emma’s sake. He actually did me a favor by breaking it off.”

  “But you said it was so awful…”

  “Oh, it was.” She cleared her throat and pushed a piece of onion around her plate. “The entire future I’d pictured for myself disappeared in an instant. The relationship I thought was the foundation of my life cracked, and everything built on it collapsed. I was such a wreck, I lost my job. I could barely eat. If my mom hadn’t flown in to stay with me for a few months, well… I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

  Now I really felt like a jackass for prying. “Sorry to hear that,” I said quietly.

  “I mean, things are fine now. It’s all in the past, and everything happened for a reason. I’m in a much better place now.” She brightened up. “Your turn!”

  “My turn,” I repeated with an uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t know where to start. I feel like I pretty much told you everything.”

  “All you said was that you date around but haven’t been in a serious relationship.”

  I was pretty sure I hadn’t said I dated around. I normally only saw the same person once or twice before moving on. “I haven’t had a real connection with anyone. Sex is fun and all, but I never get the urge to see them again afterward.”

  “So you just go around breaking hearts left, right, and center?”

  I choked on a bite of souvlaki. “These girls are looking for the same thing as me, take my word for it.”

  “How do you know? Do you ask them?” The glazed look on my face must’ve answered that question, because she moved on. “How’s it even work with two girls? Who hits on who?”

  “That’s the nice thing. Anyone can make the first move.” I picked up the last bit of potato. “Also the not-nice thing, because if you’re both shy, it might never happen.”

  “How’d you figure out you were gay?”

  I swallowed the bite and checked the time on my phone. “I’ll tell you another time. We have to get going.”

  Eleven – Sarah

  “Excuse me?” Valerie said over the phone that weekend when I called her to ask about a play date for Emma. “You had lunch with Katie Days?”

  “A bite,” I said, shooing away Emma, who was hovering nearby to hear about the status of her play date. “It was nothing, honestly.”

  “Where did you go? What did you talk about?” Her excitement was palpable through the phone. “What did she wear? What did she order?”

  “Jeez, Val, you act like she’s a rock star or something.” I took a sip of Coke. “She was on one TV show that you liked. Is it really that big of a deal?”

  “It’s still more interesting than anything going on in my life, so spill.”

  I gave her a quick rundown of the lunch, leaving out the amount of time we’d spent talking about our relationships. “I had a good time, and I think she did, too.”

  “And then you two made out and decided to get married and ride off into the sunset?” Valerie asked hopefully.

  I nearly spat out my Coke. “More like we headed back to the studio and got yelled at for being late.”

  “Ahh, the conversation was so good that you stayed longer than you should’ve.”

  She kind of had me there. “Anyway… Friday night, Emma and Cee?” I asked.

  “Sure, bring her over.”

  I nodded to Emma, who pumped her fists in the air.

  “She’s welcome to sleep over, if you’d like to spend more time with Katie,” Valerie added helpfully.

  This time I did spit out my drink.

  *

  “Hey, you,” Katie said when she came into the boardroom on Monday.

  Hey, me? I almost looked around to see if she was talking to somebody else. Since they weren’t doing cold reads today, I was the only one in the room. “What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Just wanted to see if you were free for lunch today.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder.

  “Oh. Um…”

  “It’s fine if you’re not,” she quickly said. “I know you probably want to spend time with Emma.”

  “Nah, I see her all the time,” I said. She gave me a funny look, and I laughed. “For real, I’m sure she won’t mind. We can continue our conversation where we left off last time. We’ll just have to make sure to get back on time.”

  She went off to shoot, and I slid my head
phones on. As I got to work, I wondered if she really enjoyed spending time with me that much. How could I be that interesting to her? I was an average person with an average life.

  What would she and I talk about at lunch? We’d already covered such personal topics—would we keep getting more intimate? I imagined her asking more about my love life since my divorce. What would I tell her about why I hadn’t been dating?

  Imaginary conversations echoed in my mind as I transcribed, and I found myself having to slow the audio down more than usual. Even then, I kept having to backtrack to redo the parts where I spaced out.

  The thing about Katie was that she didn’t understand anything from my life, so I had to explain everything. I had to take my thoughts about the things that just were—things I didn’t question, or that had always been that way—and put them into words.

  Katie still didn’t seem to understand much, but she tried, which was more than most people did. I felt like if we kept hanging out, she might get a glimpse of the real me—the one who was more than a mom, more than a transcriber and a divorce and a haircut. And maybe I’d get a glimpse of the real her.

  The morning crept by painfully slowly, and after a while I gave in and got up. I headed over to the set, ostensibly to check on Emma, but really more to see Katie.

  The two of them were in the middle of a scene together, along with the other actors. They were all in the kitchen, some seated at the table, others huddled on the floor. They stayed quiet, staring at each other with clear distrust.

  “How long are we going to stay here?” Aaron asked brusquely. “We’re going to have to go to bed eventually.”

  “That depends,” Katie said, gathering Emma to her protectively. “Do you trust us to not kill you in your sleep?”

  “I’m fine with staying up, Dad,” Gavin told Aaron. “If you want to sleep, I’ll watch out for you.”

  “Watch out for us?” Katie stood up abruptly, crossing the kitchen in a flash. “A woman and an eight-year-old girl? You know neither of us killed the others. It was you or you.” She pointed at Aaron and Gavin.