Read The Director's Cut Online

Authors: Janice Thompson

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027020, #Women television producers and directors—Fiction, #Hispanic American television producers and directors—Fiction, #Camera operators—Fiction, #Situation comedies (Television programs)—Fiction, #Hollywood (Los Angeles, #Calif.)—Fiction

The Director's Cut (21 page)

BOOK: The Director's Cut
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“Okay, I failed that test,” she said. “So sue me. You know I like nice things.” She squared her shoulders. “Okay, here I go. Out to handle two men. If it looks like I'm drowning, throw me a life preserver.”

Might be more fun to throw her a brick, under the circumstances. Watching her squirm between Bob and Julio would be entertaining, no doubt.

Except that I already had someone to keep my attention. I grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and headed back to the living room, handing the drink to Jason with a smile.

“Now, how did you know I needed that?” he asked.

“Easy. You're eating salsa. Coke and salsa always go together.” I released a trio of sneezes, and he offered a cheerful “God bless you.”

We settled into an easy conversation with the others, and before long, my father arrived. I rose to introduce him to Jason, who shook his hand and offered a few polite words of conversation. Moments later, we were all seated at the table, eating tamales, rice, and beans. The first few minutes went really well, particularly the part where Gabe asked about Jason's job. As he talked about his role on the
Stars Collide
set, I focused on my father, who listened in silence.

My gaze occasionally shifted to Benita. In spite of the fact that she was seated between two guys of her own, she managed to flirt with Jason throughout the meal. Thank goodness he seemed oblivious. I was not. Neither was Mama. At least three times I caught her casting a warning look at my sister.

It didn't stop her. She continued to flirt and tease all of the guys. It didn't take much to keep Bob interested, but Julio seemed a little put off by her attentions. And Jason . . . well, he finally caught on and looked like he wanted to bolt from the room.

After dinner, I offered to help Mama in the kitchen. I needed time to cool down. Unfortunately—or fortunately—Benita decided to join us.

“Aren't we the luckiest two girls in town?” She giggled. “Three great guys and only two of us. What a dilemma!”

I looked her way, completely stunned. “You're hopeless.”

“I am?” Confusion registered in her eyes. “How so?”

“You already have two guys to choose from—one of them really great, I might add—and you hit on the only one who's ever given me a second glance?”

She looked shocked at my outburst. “Tia, calm down. I wasn't hitting on him.”

“You called him a hottie and complimented his eyes.”

“So what?” She shrugged. “That's what I do.”

“Well, stop doing it. What are you trying to prove, anyway? That you can have any man you like?”

“Good grief, Tia. I was just playing around. Stop making such a big deal out of it.” She turned to Mama. “Mama, make her stop. She's being ridiculous.”

“I don't think it's ridiculous.” My mother stopped washing the dishes long enough to look Benita's way. “What you did in there was completely out of line.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “I was just messing around. I told you, it's no big deal.”

“It
is
a big deal,” I argued.

Mama shook her head. “Beni, what has happened to my sweet, innocent little girl?”

Benita's face contorted. “She grew up, Mama. And she's ready for a little fun. Ready to turn a few heads. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Everything is wrong with that.” Where should I begin? By telling her that giving pieces of herself to a man was intrinsically wrong? That her willingness to split herself between so many people of the opposite sex was a flaw she'd gleaned from our father? That she didn't need to go looking for the love she needed . . . that God was ready to sweep her into his arms and show her the kind of love she'd been looking for elsewhere?

“You've always done things your way, Tia, and I've done them mine.” Benita reached for her purse. “You win them over with your intelligence and directing skills. I win them over with my . . .” She shrugged, then gestured to her body. A feeling of nausea swept over me.

My father entered the kitchen, humming a song. Benita swept past him into the living room. I watched through the open kitchen door as she looked back and forth between Bob and Julio.

“Come on, both of you. Let's get out of here.”

“But we haven't had dessert yet,” Julio said with a pout. “Your mom made flan.”

“And I wanted some of your dad's coffee,” Bob said. “He just went into the kitchen to make it.”

“We'll go to Starbucks.” Benita opened the front door. “Anywhere but here. Come on.” She stormed out, and the two guys looked at each other.

Bob's backbone remained intact. He shrugged and said to Julio, “You go on. I'm staying here.”

“Weird. I was just about to say the same thing to you.” Julio sighed and followed after Benita, calling her name.

Mama glanced at my father and sighed. “What are we going to do with that girl?” She looked Bob's way. “I'm so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Coffee ready?”

My father gestured for Bob to join us in the kitchen. Poor Jason. We'd left him alone in the living room with my brothers and the kids. Hopefully he would forgive me. Right now I had to take care of something important.

With my hands on my hips, I turned to my mother. “Mama, she's impossible.”


Borrón y cuenta nueva
, Tia.”

I didn't want to let bygones be bygones. I'd tried that approach before. Right now I just wanted to put Benita in her place. As soon as I got this sneezing fit under control.

I managed to get calmed down after snuggling into the loveseat alongside Jason and drinking a cup of coffee. Afterward, Bob thanked my parents for a great time and headed off on his way. Carlos and his crew watched television until he fell asleep on the sofa, at which point Maria woke him up and offered to drive home. Humberto and Kate headed out to see a late movie. My parents disappeared into the kitchen to wash dishes, which left me alone with Jason in the living room.

“So, there you go,” I said. “You've met the Morales clan.”

He nodded. “I like them, Tia.”

“Sure you do.”

“No, I really do. I mean, your sister's a piece of work, but I think she's just . . .”

“Being herself.”

“Yeah. Anyway, besides that, I had a really good time. Your mom is great, and I like Humberto a lot. And Gabe too. He's a great kid.”

“Yeah. He is.” I nuzzled up against Jason, ready to relax.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You know how I told you that you have walls up?”

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“I'm starting to get it now. Your life here—outside of the studio—is so different from your life inside the studio.” He paused. “Out here, you're not in charge of everything like you are on the set.”

“I know. It stinks. I'm pretty sure I could have done a better job directing the scene we just watched.”

“Better than God?”

Ugh. “No, I mean . . . I don't know what I mean.”

“Well, I get it. I really do. You can't control what happens in the real world like you can at the studio. And I'm sure that's got to bother you. Am I right?”

I hated to say yes, but what else could I do? He'd hit the nail on the head.

“I think I've figured out why you like being in charge. It gives you a sense of security. And there's nothing wrong with that . . . when you're on the set. But you're not on the set right now.”

“I wish I was.” A little sigh escaped. “Take me back now?”

“Really? You're ready to go?”

I nodded, feeling sick about everything that had happened. After tonight, Jason would probably run as fast and as far away as he could. Not that I would blame him. No, if the shoe were on the other foot, I would've already used it to jog out of South Central and back to Newport Beach.

The rest of the weekend was—thankfully—uneventful. Jason called on Saturday to say that he had to go out of town for his uncle's birthday and would call when he got there. Unfortunately, Saturday rolled into Sunday, and I didn't hear from him. By the time I awoke on Monday morning, I decided he'd probably run for the hills. Who could blame him, really?

Besides, I had other things on my mind this morning. Allergy tests, to be precise. My eight o'clock appointment with Dr. Kennedy was first and foremost on my mind.

On the way to the doctor, I called my mother. I just needed to hear her voice. She answered on the second ring. “Good morning, Tia-mia. How's my girl today?”

I sighed. “Headed to the doctor for these allergy tests.”

“Oh, I'd forgotten about that. You'll have to call me after to let me know how it went, okay?”

“Yeah.” I paused.

“Everything okay, Tia?”

“It's probably better if we don't talk about me, okay?” I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled onto the 405. “What's going on over there?”

“Oh, Dad's just working on the loose pipe under the kitchen sink. He noticed it was leaking last night. He's trying to get everything in the house fixed before the summer. He said it's his gift to me.”

The summer. I'd almost forgotten. Summer was just a few weeks away. I'd been so caught up in the show that the time had slipped right by me. I found it interesting that my father had a sudden interest in home repair. For years he'd put off taking care of things around the house.

“He seems really different this time, Tia,” Mama said. “I don't know how to explain it exactly, but it's almost like he's the man I married once again.”

I paused, almost afraid to ask the question. “So, are you saying you think things will work out this time?”

“I don't know. I do know that he's been more attentive than ever.” She paused. “Tia, I don't need to involve you in my situation with your father, especially after watching what your sister did to you the other night. You don't need all of my drama on top of what you're already going through.”

“I'm interested in what you're going through. Maybe I haven't shown it in the right way, I don't know. But I've figured out that I can't fix it.”

“Well, honey, I never wanted you to.”

Her words took me by surprise. “You didn't?”

“No. Just needed someone to talk to, I guess. You're so grown up now and have such a way about you. I can tell you things I've never told anyone else. But I guess I've burdened you. I never meant to do that, Tia-mia. Forgive me?”

“Well, sure.” I could hardly believe my ears.

“We both have a fix-it mentality, Tia. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been trying to fix your father for over thirty years. It took me almost that long to figure out that it's going to take something—or rather, some
one
—bigger than me to fix this situation.”

“I guess I do come by it honestly.” I pondered the fact that I'd gone to school so that I could learn how to lead and direct. I really did come by it honestly. But somewhere along the way, I started thinking that I needed to fix everything—not just things on the set but things in my own life too.

Mama's voice jarred me back to attention. “You were always that way, Tia,” she said. “From the time you were a little girl.”

“Oh?”

“Sure.” She chuckled. “Don't you remember the time your brother broke the thermostat and you tried to fix it? You wired it backwards and blew up the fan in the attic.”

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“And what about the time the rent was overdue and we thought we were going to lose the house? You're the one who put together a plan to raise the money.”

Wow. I'd forgotten all about that.

“There's nothing wrong with having a heart for people. Yours is so soft that I think we sometimes take advantage of it. I know for a fact that your sister did the other night. And I've seen Carlos pull some stunts on you too. I can't believe you haven't knocked him upside the head yet.”

I hardly knew what to say. She'd never told me I had a soft heart before, so that totally threw me. But what really got to me was the admission that people in my family took advantage of me.

“You're wiser than your thirty years, honey,” Mama said. “You're so grown up that sometimes I forget you're still young.” She paused. “So, tell me what's going on with you, Tia. I'm always telling you about my troubles, but I've noticed you never tell me yours.”

Her words reminded me of the conversation with Jason last Saturday. I'd done my best to tear down those walls. Might as well come clean and tell Mama my troubles. Seemed like she was really interested.

“I have a lot on my mind. I've been trying to have a more laid-back approach to life. And there are days when I succeed. I really do. I hand things over to God and keep my hands off. But it doesn't seem to stick. One day goes great, the next is a mess.”

“That's life. That's why we keep trying,” she said. “But what's really bothering you? There's more to it than that.”

“Most of it has to do with Jason.”

“Ah, that handsome cameraman. Your dad and I really liked him, by the way. We hope you'll bring him back around sometime. He was awfully nice.”

“I agree.”

And I hope he'll come back around after the way Benita acted.

I opened up and shared my concerns with my mother. Like all good mothers, she gave me advice, most of it in Spanish. She even promised to pray. That meant more to me than anything.

We ended the call, and I felt like my spirits had truly been lifted. Sharing my struggles with someone else really did help. Maybe, if I could keep my guard down long enough, I'd get used to the idea of opening up and talking to people about the things that bothered me.

I arrived at the allergist's office, unsure of what to expect but ready to get this over with. The nurse came in and prepped me, then asked me to get undressed and into a gown. Soon Dr. Kennedy arrived, buzzing with excitement.

“You're here. I've been looking forward to this visit.” She opened my chart, glanced at it, and looked my way. “Well, let's get this ball rolling, shall we?” She started by drawing blood to send to the lab, and then she began the process of testing me, using needle pricks on my back and arms.

Dr. Kennedy chattered throughout the process, going on and on about Scott and Kat Murphy and even Lenora. I tried to focus on the skin pricks. Though most of them caused a tingling sensation, they weren't really painful. Well, not terribly painful.

“This one's for mold.” I felt a little stick on my back. “And this one is for cat dander. Do you have a cat?”

“No.” But I sneezed just thinking about it.

“This one is for pollen.”

On and on she went, doing the little needle pricks down my back and my left arm. Dogs, ragweed, a variety of foods and trees—she tested me for them all.

As she worked, she continued to pepper me with questions I couldn't avoid about the show. “Okay, I know the episode with Angie's delivery airs soon, but what comes next? How are you guys filling in the gap for the rest of this season? I'm assuming she'll be back in the fall, right?”

“Right.” I fought the temptation to tell her about Brock Benson's new role on the show or his upcoming stint on
Dancing with the Stars
. That would surely send her over the edge. Instead, I talked about the children and the role they would play in wrapping up the season. That seemed to satisfy her.

Dr. Kennedy finished the testing, then told me to wait twenty minutes for the results. By the time she came back in the room, I would've given my left arm for a back scratcher.

“Interesting.” She nodded as she examined me. “It's not just mold and dust. You'll need to keep your distance from dogs too, I'm afraid.”

No wonder I always got hives around my mother's Chihuahua. I'd considered it an aversion issue, not allergies.

“I see several positive reactions here.” She pointed to my arm. “No wonder you've been sneezing.” Dr. Kennedy wrote out several prescriptions, instructed me to come back in a week to start allergy shots, handed me an allergy tablet to take ASAP, and sent me on my way.

The trip to the studio was miserable. Every square inch of my back itched. I found it maddening. I'd hoped the itching would resolve itself before I got to the studio, but it did not. I arrived inside, leaned back against the doorjamb, and scratched until I felt some relief. Finally I headed down the hallway to see if our writers had arrived. It was Monday, and Monday always meant baklava. Thank goodness Athena and Stephen had brought a large tray. I'd skipped breakfast.

“Wow, Tia.” Athena laughed. “You must be in love.”

“What?”

“Well, when I fell for Stephen, I couldn't stop eating.”

“I thought it was the other way around. I thought being in love made you unable to eat.” The itching in my back began again, and I squirmed.

Athena gave me a funny look. “I'm Greek, Tia. To not eat would be a curse, not a blessing.”

“Ha.” That got me tickled. Great. Tickled and itching. “Hey, I stopped by to ask a favor.”

“Sure. What's up?”

“Erin did such a great job, so can we keep her character going?”

Athena laughed and looked at Stephen, then back at me. “It's so funny you should say that. We were just talking about how awesome it would be to keep up that relationship between Brock's character and Erin's. The viewers are going to love it.”

“I read the final script over the weekend, but I really want to add Erin into it before the roundtable reading. Any chance we could pull that off?” I continued to squirm but did my best not to let it show.

“Watch me try.” Athena reached for her laptop and dove right in.

I stopped off in the ladies' room to pull up my shirt and look at my back. I'd never seen anything quite like it. Rows and rows of blisters. Why hadn't that antihistamine kicked in yet?

Oh well. Maybe if I stayed focused on my job, the itching would subside. I went in search of Rex and found him in his office. I rapped on the door and he looked my way.

“Rex, I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” He swiveled his chair around and gestured for me to come in. “Something happen?”

“Yeah, I've been trying to get you alone for a while now to tell you.”

“What's up?”

I released a slow breath, trying to work up the courage to share. “I hate to tell you this, but Lenora was the one who leaked the story about Little Ricky to the tabloids.”

“What?” His eyes narrowed into slits and he shook his head. “How? And when?”

“She told me a few days ago that she'd called some reporter named Ted Holliday at
The Scoop
. I'm not sure when it happened exactly. Must've been right after the baby was born.”

“Ted Holliday?” Rex sighed. “Tia, he died years ago. I tried to tell her that, but she doesn't remember.”

“I figured. But she talked to someone there and told them everything—the sex of the baby and the name.”

He pursed his lips and swiveled his chair back around. After a couple minutes of strained silence, he glanced back at me. “I'm sorry it happened, Tia. But it's a wake-up call.” Another pause followed . . . so long that I finally slipped out of the room to leave Rex alone.

By the time I made it back to the soundstage, most of my crew had arrived. When I saw Jason approach, I held my breath, wondering if he would talk to me.

“Tia.” He reached for my hand.

“Are you still speaking to me?” I whispered. “I didn't hear from you all weekend.”

“Yes.” He groaned. “I feel terrible that I didn't call you. You're not going to believe what happened. We went to the beach while we were at my uncle's place, and one of the kids got ahold of my phone.”

“Oh?” The itching in my back kicked in again, but there was nothing I could do about it. I wriggled and twisted, but nothing seemed to help.

He gave me a funny look, then dissolved into a dramatic sigh. “Yeah. I didn't even realize it until after the fact, but she got in the water with it. The whole phone was shot. That's why I'm a little late this morning. I had to stop off at the cell phone place on Sunset and get another one to replace it.”

My heart wanted to sing at this news. To dance around the soundstage and proclaim that he hadn't run for the hills after all. I gazed into those beautiful green eyes and grinned. “I'm sorry about your phone, but I'm glad you're still speaking to me. After Friday night, I wasn't sure you'd want to.”

“Friday night?” He looked perplexed.

“Well, yeah. After all that stuff with my sister.”

If this itching doesn't stop, I'm going to scream.

BOOK: The Director's Cut
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