The Director's Cut

by Janice Thompson

  I got so aggravated that I had to stop. With my hands on my hips, I turned to the kids. “Let’s try that again, okay? Candy, you stand on Joey’s right this time.”

  “But . . .” She looked at her mother, not at me.

  I shook my head. “No buts. Just do as I say.”

  Bianca’s mouth tightened, and I felt sure I would hear from her after rehearsal. We plowed through the scene, my directing skills taking a beating every step of the way. I watched as my sister looked on from a distance. She rolled her eyes, and I could almost read her thoughts: You call yourself a director?

  Yes, thank you very much, I do. And if you’ll get out of here, I’ll do my job.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t leave. And during the fourth scene, I managed to lose control of the cast altogether. Lenora, who was supposed to appear stage left, was MIA. Rex went off to find her, finally locating her in the costume department. She couldn’t seem to remember any of her lines, so we fed them to her one by one. Her mental state—always fuzzy—was far worse than usual.

  In fact, everything was far worse than usual. And though I did my best to maintain my composure, keeping in mind Dr. Kennedy’s warning about my stress level, I could not. By the time we hit four in the afternoon, I was ready to snap like a twig. Everyone in the room could sense it, from the looks of terror on their faces.

  I caught a glimpse of Jason, who gave me a compassionate look. I marveled at how much things had changed between us over the past few weeks. Why, just a few months back, he would have been the first to roll his eyes at me. Not now, though. No, all I saw coming from those eyes today was genuine kindness.

  When five o’clock rolled around, we’d gone through each scene multiple times, and I felt a little better about our situation. Still, there were details to be worked out. Candy’s costume situation. Brock’s characterization problems. Lenora’s inability to remember lines. Gathering my cast into a cluster center stage, I gave some final instructions, tried to look encouraging, and then released them to go home.

  Benita marched past me, her nose in the air. The others left with their heads hanging low. Great. Love it when I have that effect on my cast. Despite my best efforts, I’d managed to end the day on a sour note once again. So much for having control inside the studio. And so much for thinking I could leave my stress at the door.

  I half expected Jason to hang around and chat, but he seemed to be in a hurry tonight. Was it my imagination, or had he hurried off after Benita? The very idea made me sick. Well, why not? Hadn’t she already stolen my blind date? Why not take the only guy I was interested in too?

  Calm down, Tia.

  I waited until the others had left, then worked out the costume issue with Jana in the wardrobe department. Afterward I headed to my car, ready to hit the road. Though it wasn’t on my agenda, I found myself stopping off at Kat and Scott’s place to see the baby one more time. This time I found Kat in the living room, nursing Katherine.

  “Okay to come in?” I asked.

  “Of course. Come on.” She pulled the little baby blanket over her shoulder and gestured for me to sit in the wingback chair. “How did it go at work today?”

  “Rough.”

  “Scott said it was a little shaky. You’re missing Lesleigh Conroy?”

  “Yeah, she’s really sick.”

  “Oh no. What did you do?”

  “Erin filled in for her. She’s amazing. One of the strongest actresses I’ve seen in ages.” Too late I realized what I’d said and clamped a hand over my mouth.

  “Oh, don’t be silly. You can’t possibly hurt my feelings.” She gazed at the baby. “Besides, who knows? Maybe I won’t go back to acting now that Katherine’s here. I’d be perfectly content to sit in this room and take care of her . . . forever.”

  A ripple of fear ran through me until I realized that all new moms probably felt this way. Give Kat a couple months, and hopefully she’d be ready to come back.

  “You can bring the baby to work.”

  “Oh, I know. Scott and I have hired a full-time nanny. She’s been with me every step of the way, and she’ll come with me to the studio. I’m sure it’ll be fine. But my figure . . .” She groaned. “I hope and pray I’m back in shape by the time I come back in the fall.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Kat. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that you just have to be yourself.”

  “You’ve learned this lesson, eh?” She smiled. “And you had to go and learn it while I was away?”

  “Yeah.”

  She gave me a pensive look. “Tell me why you really stopped by.”

  I released a sigh. “I went to the doctor.”

  “You’ve been sick?”

  “Well, I’ve had some allergies. At least, I thought I had allergies. Now I’m not so sure. They’re going to do tests.”

  “What do you mean?” Now she really looked concerned.

  “The allergist thinks I’m overworked and overstressed.”

  “Well, yeah.” She chuckled. “What else is new?”

  “She says the stress is causing my immune system to not function as it should. Go figure.”

  “Well, God designed us to rest, Tia. Even he took a day off.”

  “Everyone keeps telling me that. I take the weekends off.”

  “Do you?”

  I sighed again. “Well, I try. But my house is under construction.”

  “I know you’ve heard the old expression about burning the candle at both ends, so I won’t bore you by going into detail.” Kat gazed down at her baby. “And trust me, after years of nonstop working, I’d be a hypocrite to say I’d led by example. But sitting here with this little girl every day—seeing how peaceful she is in my arms—has been a wakeup call.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She stared at the baby, the most contented look on her face. “Peace. Quiet. Rest. They’re all key ingredients to a happy, healthy life.” She looked my way and shrugged. “I know you can’t quit your job, Tia. And I’m sure that wouldn’t solve the problem, anyway. You’d still find something to keep you busy.”

  “True.”

  “I just think you need to take some time every day to relax. Get a massage.”

  “A massage?” Hmm. How many years had it been?

  “Maybe a pedicure too. And a manicure.”

  I could feel my body relax as she spoke. The tension in my shoulders lifted.

  “But most of all, you just need to get alone with God. Pour your troubles on him. Ask him to carry that stress for you.” With tears in her eyes, she smiled at baby Katherine. “I really think the Lord wants us to be this relaxed in his arms.” She nodded at the bundle in her arms. “See how calm she is? How peaceful?”

  “Do you really think it’s possible in Hollywood?” I asked.

  She gazed into the baby’s face and whispered, “I do.”

  I felt a sense of ease come over me as she spoke. For the first time in weeks, I truly felt like I could let God take all of this anxiety from me. All I had to do . . . was let it go.

  Tuesday night, after visiting with Kat, I had what Mama liked to call a “come to Jesus meeting.” No one else attended—just Jesus and me. I’d been through a few of these before—mostly in my teens—so I knew the drill. He laid a few things bare, and I responded with lots of tears and a bit of fussing and fuming. The end result? I would take it easy. Kick back. Be more relaxed. Let him play the role of director in my life . . . willingly.

  Would it happen overnight? No. Would I make a deliberate effort to let go of my anxiety and trust him to handle the things I could not? Well, I’d give it my best shot. And if I failed, I would pick myself up, dust myself off, and try again. What I would not do was stress. Not as a first choice, anyway. In thirty years of living, I’d already stressed enough for ten or twelve people.

  That night I slept like a baby. Somewhere in the middle of my dreams I must’ve come to the startling conclusion that I couldn’t fix the issue with the tabloids, because I woke up complet
ely at peace about it all. We would leave the recorded episode exactly as it was. Little Ricky would be Little Ricky. So what if the viewers knew his name? Maybe they would feel that we cared enough about them to entrust them with the news. And I would make my apologies to Benita, doing my best to unravel any existing issues between us. She was, after all, my baby sister.

  Whew! Letting go of things actually felt good. Who knew?

  Since I’d gone to bed at a decent hour, my body didn’t feel the usual early-morning tenseness. I rolled over in bed, then sat up and reached for my Bible, determined not to let the moment get away from me. No rushing here and there to get ready. That could wait a few minutes. I had some business to take care of first.

  Not that it felt like business. No, as I lingered in God’s presence, I actually felt—possibly for the first time—that meeting with him wasn’t something to check off of my to-do list. Turned out it was a privilege. A blessing. I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I continued my conversation with him as I showered and fixed my hair. Just for kicks, I decided to wear my hair loose around my face, not overcombed, but soft and a little messy. I’d never done the messy look before, but maybe it was about time.

  When it came time to dress, I picked out a soft pink blouse with ruffles, which I wore over a pair of relaxed jeans. My heels were a perfect complement to the belt. And just for fun, I wore dangly earrings. That would throw people off, no doubt. I’d never worn anything other than my usual diamond studs before.

  When it came time to leave for work, I found myself looking forward to the day ahead. In spite of any troubles yesterday, today would be a great day. No matter what happened, I would maintain the right attitude. Once again my professor’s words ran through my mind: They’re following your lead. You set the stage for the attitude on the set. The director directs not just the filmed action but all the action.

  Today we would experience the best possible in-studio experience. I would lead the way.

  I pulled onto the 405 and pressed the button on the steering wheel to call Mama. She answered on the second ring. “Tia, is everything okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “Oh.” I could hear her breathe a sigh of relief, then mutter “God be praised” in Spanish. “You’re calling me on your way to work.”

  “I always talk to you on my way to work.”

  “Well, yes, but I always call you. At 7:45 a.m. You called me at 7:39 a.m. So I had to think maybe something terrible had happened. Nothing terrible happened, did it, Tia-mia? Oh, don’t tell me. I’m already upset enough about this nonsense with your sister.”

  “Ah, she told you. Well, don’t worry about that, Mama. I plan to apologize to her.”

  “I’m not saying you have to be the one to apologize, Tia. I don’t know what to think. I just hate to see my girls not getting along. It’s so hard when there’s a strain in a relationship. We’ve seen so much of it in this family. I just want everyone to love one another.”

  “I do love her, Mama, and I’m going to do what I can to make things better.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, Tia. Honestly, I just don’t know what to do with that girl sometimes.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, there’s always so much drama where she’s concerned. Where all of your siblings are concerned, really.”

  Interesting.

  Mama opened up and talked about her concerns—about Benita, Carlos’s drinking, and even Gabe’s struggle with ADHD. Who knew? She actually did see her children’s flaws.

  I pulled into the drive-through at Starbucks, ended the call with my mother, and ordered a Grande Earl Grey tea, heavy on the cream, with two Splendas. Of course, it was too hot to drink. By the time I arrived at the studio, I’d hoped it would be cool enough to sip. No such luck. Oh well. Just one more thing not to get upset about.

  When I got out of my car, I realized I’d parked next to Jason. He took one look at me in my pink ruffled blouse, and I thought the boy’s eyes would pop right out of his head.

  “Wow.” A delicious smile lit his face. “You look . . .” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Amazing.”

  “Thank you.” I felt the edges of my lips curl up in a smile. A girl could get used to being greeted like this in the morning.

  I closed the door to my car, and the doors automatically locked. Slipping my Prada handbag over my shoulder, I walked alongside Jason. He dove into a story about a movie he’d seen the night before, and before long he had me smiling. Oh, how I loved this kind of attention. If I had my way, we would skip ahead a few pages in the script and get to the part where he told me I was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

  “Tia?”

  “Hmm?” I looked at him, realizing I’d gotten lost in my thoughts.

  “You still with me?”

  I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Oh, yes, I . . .” Quick, Tia. Think on your feet. “You know, I hate to cut this short, but I need to find my sister. I really need to talk to her.”

  “Ah. Okay. Well, I’ll see you later then.”

  I practically took off running toward the soundstage. Once inside, I hid my purse in my office, then went off in search of Benita. I found her in the hair and makeup room, taking inventory of her products.

  I took a couple of steps in her direction, and she put her hands up. “What did I do this time?”

  “Nothing.” I sighed and sat in her chair. Turning to face the mirror, I stared at both of our reflections. Strange how much we looked alike today. She happened to be wearing pink too. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  Little creases appeared between her brows. “Oh?”

  “Beni, I came to apologize. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll admit, the thing with Julio totally threw me—hurt my feelings a little—but not for the reasons you think. He wasn’t my type.”

  “Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Mama totally botched that up.”

  Okay, I don’t know if you’re insulting me or just stating a fact, so I’ll just smile and keep talking.

  “Anyway, to suspect you of sabotaging the show was just plain stupid.” I gave her a sheepish look. “Will you forgive me?”

  She waited awhile before answering. “Just so you know, the thing with Julio was not really my fault. He’s a handsome guy. Very handsome.”

  “Agreed.”

  She sighed. “I think maybe I was blinded by the heavenly glow surrounding his face. It drew me in like a magnet. I don’t know any way to explain it other than that. He cast a spell on me with his looks, and I’m hooked. Just reel me in and fry me up in a pan. I can’t help myself when I’m in the room with a gorgeous guy.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d been swayed by a handsome face, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to put both of these things behind us. Can we do that?” I turned away from the mirror and looked into her eyes.

  Again, she didn’t answer right away. When she finally spoke, her words surprised me. “I love my job here, Tia. This is the best job I’ve ever had, and not just because I get to put makeup on people like Brock Benson.” Her eyes misted over. “I . . . I’m learning a lot. About the industry. About how sitcoms are made. About what the writers go through.” She shrugged. “Even what you do for a living. I never got it before, but I do now.”

  “I’m glad.” I rose and gave her a warm hug.

  “Everyone here respects you, Tia,” she whispered. “I’ve never known what that felt like . . . to be respected.”

  Whoa. Her words caught me totally off guard.

  “When you speak, everyone listens,” she said. “And you’re loaded with great ideas to make the show even better than it already is.” She paused. “Makes me want to be the best I can be too.”

  I hardly knew what to say. After stumbling through a couple of responses, I finally gave up and threw my arms around her neck, giving her the tightest squeeze I could. “Thank you,” I whispered. “That means a lot, coming from someone in the
family.”

  When I released my hold, she took a close look at my blouse and hair. “You look great, Tia. Where did the blouse come from?”

  “I bought it ages ago on a whim.”

  “Then you need to buy more things on a whim. This color is great on you. And these ruffles . . . ” She reached to touch the sleeve of the blouse. “I just can’t get over the fact that you’re wearing ruffles.”

  “Well, I was in a ruffly sort of mood today.”

  “Interesting.” She grinned, then turned me around so that we both faced the mirror again. “Look how pretty you are.”

  I stared at my reflection, more amazed at the relaxed expression on my face than anything else. Being a changed woman—giving up stress—had actually softened my appearance. Who knew?

  I ran into my first opportunity to prove that I was a changed woman just moments later when Rex appeared in the doorway, concern etched into his brow. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  “What’s that?” I rose and met him at the door. He gestured for me to join him in the hallway, so I headed that direction.

  “Remember I told you that Lesleigh had the stomach flu?” he whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  Rex sighed. “It wasn’t the flu. It was her appendix. She’s just been admitted to the hospital, and doctors are prepping her for surgery as we speak.”

  “Are you kidding me? Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Deep breath, Tia. This is one of those moments you rehearsed for, remember?

  “Not kidding.” Rex took a few steps toward the sound-stage. “She’s out, and we’re looking for an actress to take her place. Pronto.”

  I began to pace the room. As the show’s director, I should’ve had a backup plan. I stopped pacing and shrugged. “We’ll have to talk to Athena and Stephen and see if they can rewrite that scene, I guess.”

  “I thought of that. It’s just a lot to ask of them, and they’re already working on next week’s script. Not to mention that was a really funny scene. It affects everything else in the episode.”