“You are not talking to her,” Karen said with a snort. “Neither of you are. I’ll be the only one in this family going through her, do you understand?”
Both of her children sat back, as if they couldn’t understand why Karen held such a stern view. “Yes, ma’am,” Xander said, with only a little sarcasm. “Although, may I remind you that I am over the age of…”
“No. You’re the mayor’s son. You know what that means.”
Karen anticipated the annoyance on Xander’s face. What she didn’t expect was for him to say, “At some point, Mom, you’re gonna have to let go. Even if it’s not today.”
If only she knew what he meant by that.
Chapter 10
DAHLIA
Two weeks into filming, conducting research, and soliciting interviews all over town, Aaron came down with the set-plague.
That’s what they called it when a member of the crew inevitably became too sick to continue. Sometimes, that person was Dahlia, who powered through whatever ailed her to finish the film, even if it meant carrying an extra jacket or puke bucket with her. She wasn’t ashamed to pop into the local hospital wherever they went. Nor was she afraid of a few medical charges, if it meant finishing on time. When it came to her crew, however, she was more forgiving. Especially in a town where the only doctor was currently off on her honeymoon.
Aaron spent a solid twenty-four hours puking into one of Waterlily House’s five toilets. When he wasn’t piled beneath a ton of blankets and swearing he saw his dead grandmother at his bedside, he was stumbling around, attempting to get work done before the Ice Queen sacrificed him to the filmmaking gods. There’s a Behind-the-Scenes shot. No, Dahlia wouldn’t fire a crewmember for coming down with a twenty-four-hour stomach bug. Except poor Aaron was still stick two days later. Without him to help on most of the sets, it took the rest of the crew three times as long to get anything done.
It also did not help that everyone was a tad concerned about him.
“He’s gotta go to the hospital,” Wayne said over dinner Wednesday night. The sounds of Aaron throwing up again serenaded them as they ate clam chowder out of a can. “Without the doctor in town, it’s the only thing we can do. He ain’t getting better on his own.”
“Yes, and we can’t risk him infecting everyone.” Dahlia had her suspicions that Aaron wasn’t contagious. She knew a few things about his medical history, and the poor guy unfortunately had some latent conditions. “Who’s volunteering to drive him to the ER tonight?”
The honor went to Kurt, who itched the get the hell out of town for anything, even if it included driving twenty miles to the county hospital with a sicko in the passenger seat. It had to be done, though. Aaron agreed to it when he passed out on the couch and muttered something about his kidneys hurting. Yes, off to the ER with you. Dahlia was relieved she didn’t have to do it. There was too much work to do at Waterlily House. Better if Wayne could hang back and help her. The man had the most experience on her crew, after all.
After they saw Aaron and Kurt off down the driveway, Dahlia returned with Wayne to discuss what to do in case one of their crew had to bow out of the production.
“I’ll have to bring in someone else, of course.” Dahlia chewed on the end of her pencil, the one writing down a lengthy list of names to contact for more interviews. They had spent that afternoon at Anem Singer’s house, where her parents made them afternoon tea and said nothing but praises about Paradise Valley. Every time Dahlia brought up being a religious minority, they looked at her as if they were fish floundering out of water. “Well, yes,” her father had said. “We are one of the only Jewish families in the city limits, but it’s not like that’s weird. We’ve got family in Portland. All over, really. We go see them about once or twice a month. Honestly, we like having a little distance from the people at the old synagogue.” If that was the quality of interviews they got for the rest of the month, Dahlia might as well submit the most boring documentary ever to the film festival circuit. It would be no The Lives They Lost.
“Last I heard, a few people were banging down your door to get on the crew for this show.” Wayne cleared a spot for himself at the table before sitting down. “Yet you picked me and my ragtag crew of misfit males.”
“So you know they were women?”
“Women with a stake in this film, no less.”
“Then you know why I couldn’t have them tagging along.” Dahlia busied herself with the choice screenshots she had printed off at the library. She flipped through pictures of the parks, the hill, and the landmarks about town, but none of them spoke to her. Not when her head was filled with so much crap she’d have to call the Mr. Rooter advertised on the billboard outside of town. I see it every time we drive out of here. It’s burned into my retinas now. “They would bring too much bias to the production. I couldn’t have them constantly distracted by the aspects of their lives represented in this town.”
Wayne looked like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his boss’s mouth. “Bias? You’re kidding, right? If anything, it would’ve been a huge selling point that you had a majority-queer crew for this shoot. Was kinda surprised you didn’t go for that, since I know how careful you are of representation in your productions.”
Was that sarcasm? Wayne? Never. “If this is about what happened Monday…”
“Not only on Monday, Dahl. Every damn day we’ve been here. People don’t want to talk to you because they can smell your desperation to paint them in unsavory ways.”
Dahlia dropped her pencil. “Excuse me? Are you accusing me of being homophobic?”
“Eh. Maybe not intentionally.” Good Lord! The man had the balls to insinuate that! Dahlia had to hand it to him. He really knew how to look her in the eye and say what was on his mind. This is why I hire him. Not only for his experience and level of skill with a camera. Every director needed that one crew member who saw things otherwise refused to be seen. It helped the production maintain a certain… balance.
Now, if Wayne could please see something else, that would be great!
“What in the world about my behavior could be misconstrued as homophobic? Are you kidding me?”
“From the moment we got here, you’ve been asking people if they feel pressured to act and feel certain ways toward the gay majority. You really wonder how that could come across as homophobic? I dunno, Dahl, maybe it’s because I know you well enough that I see the connection between this and your childhood.”
“Now that’s a low blow.”
“Come on!” Wayne sat back, his exasperation as clear as the sick on Aaron’s face. “You’re trying to tell me that your mom leaving your family when you were little has nothing to do with this? You’ve been asking questions about the people who have kids. You really sank to a new low when you insinuated that the deputy or her wife must have had kids from previous relationships.”
“What the hell do you want from me? The deputy had a record with older kids!”
“Yeah, when she was a lunch lady.”
Dahlia put up her hands, grateful that neither Aaron nor Kurt were around to hear this slander. “What happened with my mom has nothing to do with this project. Sure, call me a little curious about what goes into a woman’s desires to leave her whole family behind, but I know that has nothing to do with sexuality. Give me some credit here, Wayne.”
“Sure, I’ll do that when you start giving these people here some credit, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“When you’re not implying they all have hidden agendas, you’re trying to gotcha them into showing their racist asses. That shit on Monday was only the tip of the iceberg. I don’t doubt that they have their issues in a small town, but why do you have to focus on that if nobody’s coming forward about it? You’re looking for reasons to hate on this place. This is after you pitched it as a great marketing opportunity to the mayor!”
“What? Are you on the mayor’s side or something? She’s as fake as any politician
gets. She’ll say whatever needs to be said to ensure her town comes out looking good.”
“No shit, Dahl! Because she clearly loves this place and wants it to look good on TV!”
Dahlia fell into a fit of headshaking and scoffing. Papers fell to the floor. Her pencil had completely disappeared. The only thing she still had a hold of was her sanity, although that too quickly slipped away.
She stood up from the table. “Don’t suggest things that simply aren’t true. Now, I’ve got a few things to figure out, such as who I should hire if we need to replace Aaron. I believe you have some work that needs to be done before we go to bed, too?”
Wayne could have stormed after her. He also could have silently sat there and taken her judgments. Yet he did neither, choosing to instead level his gaze at her while saying, “This will all come back to bite you in the ass. Remember that. I’m merely here for the ride.”
“And the paycheck, no doubt.” Dahlia knew a few things about Wayne as well. Like how he relied on the money that dripped through these paychecks to pay the alimony and child support from his first marriage, or the medical bills that amounted when he broke his leg five years ago. Or how about that little stint of his gambling in Vegas before he got his depression medicated? The man had debts. The man would also follow work wherever it lay, because a man had to stay out of jail.
Yet before Dahlia could smugly stew in how right she was, her cell phone rang in the common room. For some reason, it was buried beneath Aaron’s old blankets.
“Yes?” she snapped into the receiver. “This is Dahlia Granger of Hibiscus Films.” She glanced at the clock. For it being this late in the evening, there better be a good reason for bothering her while she fought with her crew.
“Sorry to call so late, Ms. Granger.” Ah, was that the smooth and practiced tone of a small town mayor with a lot to prove? Dahlia was almost pleased to hear from Karen so soon after defending herself to Wayne. “I was wondering if you were available sometime this week for an interview. With me.”
Dahlia held her hand to her chin, her biggest tell that something percolated in her mind. “We’ve already had an interview with you, Mayor. I don’t know what else…”
“I want to give you a personal interview. The one I gave you last week was about my role in this town and what I think about it from an outsider’s perspective. Now, I want to tell you about what led me to moving to this town several years ago.”
Dahlia still wasn’t sold on it. Yet as she replayed the mayor’s words on loop in her head, she realized that this would be her perfect opportunity to show Wayne that she was not biased and chasing down an agenda to paint the whole town as godless, lesbian heathens.
“All right, Mayor.” Dahlia turned her attentions to Wayne, who glared at her from the kitchen table. “We can fit you in Friday afternoon. How does that sound?”
“Sounds delightful. I’ll forward you a time that fits my schedule. Have a lovely day!”
Although Karen hung up, Dahlia continued to hold her phone to her head. I can’t wait. At this rate, Karen would be her climactic moment of the film.
Chapter 11
KAREN
“Dang, Mom,” Christina said, as Karen prepared to leave for city hall early Friday morning. “Who you gotta impress today? Is the governor dropping by before Pride?”
Karen stopped before the hallway mirror, one earring dangling from her fingers. Damn thing won’t stay in! She didn’t often wear the nice, dangly earrings she favored before the kids were born. When it became apparent that toddlers loved dangly earrings – particularly, they loved yanking on them when Mom was in line at the bank – Karen dumped them for practical studs. Yet every once in a while she unearthed her jewelry case and rediscovered the beads and wiring that had made a bulk of her wardrobe in the late ‘90s. You’d think I forgot how to put them on. She fiddled with the earring, determined to get it to stay.
“No, it’s not the governor, honey. Your mom has an important meeting this afternoon, and she needs to look her best.”
Christina followed her mother to the door. “All I’m saying is that you don’t dress like this unless you’re trying to impress someone. Or, I dunno, seduce someone.”
Karen almost fell into the door. “Excuse me?”
Her daughter laughed at her. So did half of Florida Street as the door opened and spilled Karen into her front walkway. Karen had to do the two-step to regain her balance. Starting this day off with grace and poise, as usual. She only had herself to blame. After tossing and turning for half the night, she had to drink two full cops of coffee to function around her dresser.
At least nobody at city hall gave her the same flack Christina had. Karen needed to be on her A-game. Her interview with Hibiscus Films wasn’t until the afternoon, but Karen didn’t have time to run home and change during lunch. That would only be more conspicuous, anyway. She couldn’t let anyone know that she had two reasons for dressing like a political diva that day. Everyone would soon gauge it had to do with going on camera. While that was a factor, there was another, more personal reason for Karen’s primping and preening.
Well, I want to look good for Ms. Granger, don’t I?
Karen wasn’t the vainest woman in town, but she knew her physical self-worth. She looked nice in a pantsuit, but she looked nicer in a tasteful yet stylish dress that expressed her feminine personality while also fitting the part of mayor. Her makeup was understated. Her hair, which she usually wore back in a ponytail or up high in a bun, was left loose around her shoulders. The coloring could go more strawberry blond or chestnut brown depending on her diet and the time of year. During summer, it was a tad lighter, the golden hues that lurked beneath the browns shining in ways no salon could ever reproduce. Oh, yes, Karen knew that she could step up her beauty if she put in the right effort. That day? She made the effort, knowing well enough that Dahlia Granger would show up in her usual cargo pants, T-shirt, and boots.
That’s what she liked about the imagery, wasn’t it? Dahlia wasn’t going on camera. She was the headless voice coming from off screen, prompting Karen with questions that went beyond “What do you think about this town,” or, “What’s the one thing Paradise Valley struggles with the most?” Now, Karen realized that such questions were meant to tease out some dark underbelly that may or may not exist. People had issues with one another, sometimes for the dumbest or surprisingly bigoted reasons, but that was not sequestered to a town “ran by lesbians.” Karen would very much appreciate a little more humanization than what some of the townspeople had been telling her.
When Hibiscus Films arrived, they were down one man. Tom, who escorted them from the atrium to the mayor’s office, inquired about it in time for Karen to overhear. Apparently, one of their crew had an auto-immune flareup that hospitalized him two days before. “…Very unfortunate,” Dahlia grumbled, before she appeared in the doorway. “We’ll probably have to replace him, since it’s taking us twice as long to do anything without his assistance. Aaron really was invaluable to this…”
Dahlia stopped as soon as she reached the doorway and saw Karen standing before her desk. Standing? Is that what I’m doing? Or did she have her rear bumped up against her desk, ankles and arms crossed as she leveled a steady gaze on the crew coming to pry into her personal life. To think, I invited them…
What was that look in Dahlia’s eyes? Was that acknowledgment of how different Karen looked that day? How good she looked? While Karen didn’t expect to see those eyes grow wider in size the moment they encountered one another, she did, in fact, expect the little rounding of Dahlia’s mouth and the lowering of two clenched arms.
Naturally, she didn’t look so bad herself. Dahlia always wore the same outfit, swapping out the T-shirt on occasion, but her no-nonsense attitude today was more appealing than ever. I wouldn’t mind getting a glass of wine with her after this. If only to pick her brain and figure out what her problem was. Because Karen couldn’t risk being seen “romantically” linked with Dahlia after s
he had done a bangup job pissing off half the town. There were already accusations that they were possibly in bed together. Did Karen really want to stoke those fires?
Maybe. A little. At the very least, she wanted to remind Dahlia who was in charge here. Someone else may lead the conversation, but Karen commanded the room.
“Let’s get right down to it,” she said, after the camera and lighting were to Dahlia’s liking. “You want to ask me personal questions about my sexuality and what I’m doing in a town like this. Go ahead. Ask me whatever you want. I reserve the right to turn down questions, but I’ll do my best to indulge you.” That’s right. This was an indulgence. Karen was a busy mayor with many things to plan and oversee that bustling, touristy summer. She may not have a city like Portland to run, but she always gave Paradise Valley her undivided attention. To the point she barely had time for her grown children, never mind a relationship.
Dahlia continued to look askance at her as they decided the best place to sit. Behind the desk was ideal for talking about the town from a mayor’s perspective, but for this heart-to-heart, they both agreed that Karen should sit comfortably on the couch she usually reserved for her guests. Or her children come to do homework in her office. Either one was likely during the school year.
The tension in the room mounted when the camera started rolling and the two women gazed into each other’s eyes. The cameraman – Wayne, was it? – peered above the camera, soaking in the energy these two women exuded. Did he mistake it for passion? Sexual attraction? Or was that wishful thinking on his part? No. He knows what’s going on here. The other guy sat in the background, checking his phone, taking notes, and doing whatever Dahlia or Wayne asked him to do. This moment, though? Before the first question was asked? That moment belonged to Dahlia and Karen, two women who both had ulterior motives for being in that room.
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