by Pike, Leslie
“I’m going to meet Finn Kennedy today!” she whisper screams, so as to not wake up the neighbors or let Parker know she’s about to burst.
We hug and for some stupid reason start jumping up and down. It’s clear we’re women on the verge of freaking out.
“I’m really happy for you,” I say. “Don’t have a heart attack when you talk to him.”
She comes inside and heads for Parker.
“Hi! Am I dressed okay, because I have a change of clothes in the car.”
Parker places both hands on her shoulders. “Take a deep breath, Jenna. You’re dressed fine. Glad you listened to me about wearing tennis shoes.”
She can’t help herself, she goes in for a cheek kiss, surprising us all.
“Okay,” Parker says. “Well, let’s go over a few rules for when we’re on set. You can bring your cells, but they must be turned off. You don’t want them ringing in the middle of an actor’s dialogue.”
“Should I take notes? Just to make sure I don’t forget something?” She says it perfectly seriously.
“No. You’ll remember. You’ll be able to get pictures, but we’ll wait till lunch is called. Maybe we’ll go to Finn’s trailer if he doesn’t eat with the crew. Sometimes he’s running lines. And don’t talk to the cast or crew while they’re working. Just be the observers.”
“Got it, boss. Hey, did I tell you I’m meeting Finn Kennedy today?”
Jenna goes into her happy dance as Parker gives up the fight and laughs.
* * *
The San Gabrielle Mountains look beautiful in the distance. We’re driving onto the set in Los Angeles, early in the morning, but you wouldn’t know the hour by the activity. The crew looks like ants in a farm. They move steadily, setting up lighting and cameras. Tall director’s chairs dot the scene, but no one occupies them yet. Driving slowly past security, Parker doesn’t look or offer any proof of being part of the crew. They seem to know we belong here.
Pulling between two SUVs he parks and turns off the engine.
“Okay girls. I’m going to introduce you to a few people, then I’ve got to get to hair and makeup. You can walk around or get some breakfast. They’re serving till ten. I’ll show you where it’s at.”
When he pauses he sees our expressions. Without a word between us, I know Jenna feels like I do. We don’t want to do anything that would reflect badly on Parker. We’re thirty-year-old little girls in this moment.
“Relax. You’ll be fine. Come on.”
We exit the car, and he throws his arm around my shoulders.
“Let’s go see if we can find the stunt coordinator.”
Walking across the half-paved lot, I see the eyes of more than one person checking me out. Not sure if it’s the fact that I’m a stranger, or that Parker has his arm around me. I’m going with the latter.
“There they are,” Parker says, motioning to the long tables set up in front of a huge RV.
A line of people wait their turn to place breakfast orders at the two windows manned by busy cooks.
“Let’s go meet the stunt crew, then you two can get in line. They make some great breakfast burritos, if you like that.”
“Is it a cash only system?” Jenna asks.
“It’s free. No money required.”
“This is the greatest job in the world,” she comments under her breath.
Walking up to the table of six men and three women my eye goes to the man and woman at the far end. I know those two! It’s the director, Steven French. And Bliss, his wife. He’s famous for his Oscar-nominated directorial debut, and her for the well-respected HBO series about Finn Kennedy’s family. Ohhhh!
I feel Jenna’s fist hit my leg. She’s spotted them too.
All eyes are on us, most of them accompanied by a smile.
“Hey! This is the first time you’ve been fifteen minutes early, Parker. That’s late for you,” the one in the middle says.
“Hi, everybody. This is Natalie, and Jenna. Girls, this is Isaac, our coordinator,” he says, gesturing to where he sits.
“Nice to meet you both. What are you doing with this guy, Natalie?”
He leaves the comment where it lays, and I don’t really know how to respond. But it’s lost among the greetings coming our way. Everyone is friendly, even the good-looking girl with the dark hair, whose pale green eyes haven’t left me. She’s taken me apart from head to toe. Sizing me up for some unknown reason.
Parker continues the introductions. First the stunt people, Derek, Christie, Ty, West, Kinnie, and Nia.
“This is our director, Steven, and the screenwriter, his wife Bliss.”
“Hi,” I say to both.
“Welcome. You came on a good day. Parker’s high falls are memorable.” Bliss smiles.
“Neither of us have ever seen a stunt before. We’re excited.”
When I turn to Jenna she’s just nodding. I think she’s stunned by the fact that she’s right in the middle of one of her best days. It’s rendered her mute.
“Sit with us.” Steven moves over.
“Natalie, are you in the business?” Bliss asks.
“Oh no. I sell real estate in Santa Barbara.”
Bliss lights up. “Really? Are you a broker?”
“Yes. I have my own firm.”
“You and my wife will have lots to talk about.”
Then his eyes travel behind where we stand.
“Oh good. Here comes Finn.”
All conversation stops because I feel Jenna’s grasp on my pants leg. Except for the barely heard squeal that only dogs can hear, she’s squeezing her reaction. Or maybe she’s steeling herself in case she faints.
Jenna’s dreams have come to life, as a six foot vision saunters right up beside her and smiles. He’s everything the fans have hoped for. In reality he looks as good as in pictures. Better. I think I see sweat appearing on Jenna’s upper lip.
“Hi, I’m Finn,” he says, locking eyes with my friend.
Obviously he’s used to the ogling that comes with celebrity. Every day of this man’s life I bet he feels the stares of the masses. He’s identified the most flummoxed of the group. It’s kind of him to respond this way. But Jenna hasn’t responded other than the comatose stare. I give her a nudge.
“Oh! Hi. Hello.” And then she giggles and a snort gets thrown in.
I hear the chuckles of some at the table.
“I’m a huge fan!” She says it a little too loud and makes a move to get her cell from a back pocket. Then she thinks better of it.
But Finn reads the scene. “Would you like a selfie?”
I think there are actual tears in her eyes as she whips out her phone.
“Yes!”
He puts an arm around her waist and pulls her to his side. As she holds up the cell he poses and offers that megawatt smile he’s famous for. Jenna takes the picture.
“Let’s do another one, just in case,” Finn says.
This will be one for her baby book. Today little Jenna met her idol and almost peed her pants!
* * *
It takes so long to set up a scene, a stunt, the lighting, and cameras. It’s a whole lot of hurry up and wait, which lets me see this business in a new light. It drives home the idea the end product is a community effort. What looks like a simple scene on screen is anything but in practice. I feel a newfound respect for the art and its many contributors.
I just heard the cameraman say we’re losing light. It’s getting cloudy. Everyone is scrambling to do their jobs as they set up for Parker’s high fall. He comes in and out of view at the top of the building. Looking over the edge, he calculates where he will land, atop the huge airbag. A group of stunt people are assisting him, but I’m not sure how. He had his pads on when he got up there.
It’s a bit windy, but he told me not to worry about it. His calmness is impressive. It reminds me of our flight to Cancun and his ability to stay cool in the face of a perceived threat. One difference between that day and today, is the look on
his face. He was completely focused when he went into the building. As if there was no other person around him. No cameras or cables. It was all him inside his mind.
Jenna and I are positioned where he put us, across from the four-story building, behind the director and cameraman, standing against the entry to an abandoned shop. Parker told us the location scout picked this spot because it had all the requirements for a successful shoot. A four-story empty building with a flat roof, little or no nearby businesses so there wouldn’t be lookie-loos, and an easy spot to get permits to shut down the street.
“Are you close, Parker?” Steven says, looking up.
“Ready,” is the answer over the walkie talkie.
Looking up, I see him step up on the edge. Everyone else backs away, and disappears from view. Shit. My stomach is twisting. Jenna takes my hand.
“Quiet!” Steven calls. “Rolling cameras!”
The assistant director steps in front of the camera with the clapboard and announces the take. “Mark’s Monday. Scene twelve. Take One. Mark camera.”
“And…ACTION!” Steven says.
There’s only a beat of a hesitation before I watch Parker fall over forty feet with absolutely no cables or ropes. I don’t have to hear the horror stories to know men have died doing this job. Airbags deflate sometimes. But it’s a thing of beauty as he turns himself over and lands on his back, disappearing into the folds of the bag.
“CUT!”
The stunt people appear again at the edges of the building and look at the landing zone. Cheers and whistles. One arm raises with a thumbs up. I exhale.
Chapter 11
Parker
Getting out of wardrobe and back into jeans and a T-shirt resets me. It’s good to have the fall in the rearview mirror. A five thousand dollar bump was worth the limited risk. Isaac has always paid well for specialty stunts.
The rest of the day will be easy. A little car work and a few squib hits. Basically I’ll die three times today, but my face will be seen only once when I take the fake bullets. Another long ass day in Hollywood.
“Here you go, Helen,” I say, handing the clothes back to the wardrobe mistress. The wire hanger has a large label stating my name, the character I was doubling, and the scene number. It’s a smooth running operation, and everyone is expected to return whatever they wore. It’s as if we’ve borrowed the Bishop’s sacred vestments and they’ve been blessed by the Pope.
“Thanks, Parker. Where’s the two leather bracelets? Tell me you didn’t leave them in the Honey Wagon!”
“No. They’re in the back pocket of the pants. Sorry.”
She fishes them out and returns them to the small plastic bag hanging on the hanger’s hook.
“Have you seen what they’re serving for lunch?” Helen says.
“Not yet. I’m headed there now.”
“That prime rib was delicious yesterday. You weren’t here, but take my word for it.”
“I’m hoping for the Mahi Mahi. That’s George’s best. In my opinion.”
“By the way, your girl is a looker. I’ve never seen you bring someone to set. You in love or something?”
Helen’s reputation as a motherly, nosey woman is well established. She’ll offer her advice whether you’ve asked for it or not. I can’t expect her to suddenly change personalities, but it doesn’t mean I need to say more than I want to.
“You’re a hopeless romantic, Helen. When are you going to find a deserving man to ravage you?”
When she laughs her tight red curls bounce against her face, and you can hear the sound of a forty-year smoking habit. A cough precedes her next comment.
“Honey, do you really think one man could handle all this?”
“No. Not really. You’re gonna need backup.”
Her laughter can be heard as I exit, all the way out the trailer and down the steps. I hear her last comment as I walk away.
“You all come back now, ya hear!”
The sunlight has returned and the clouds have parted. It’s a great looking day. Up ahead I spot Jenna and Natalie sitting at the tables. Natalie waves me over and gestures to the empty seat beside her.
“Hi, stranger.”
I know that voice behind me. Intimately. Nia.
I turn as she catches up. An arm links in mine. Crap. What do I do? I know she’s just being friendly, but this will definitely look suspicious to Natalie. I’ve got to explain things as soon as I get the chance.
“Hi! I didn’t know I was going to see you here,” I say.
“I met Isaac on my last job. I was glad I got the call for this one. Finn Kennedy’s films are good paydays. I don’t have to tell you that.”
“You doing the fire gag?”
“Yeah. That should be a good bump.”
I release her grip and pretend I have to look at my phone for messages. Not sure she’s buying it though because I see a lopsided grin. Whatever. Natalie is watching, and I even saw Jenna turn around and look. But she quickly turned back when Natalie said something to her.
“Who’s the girl? She’s very pretty. You look good together, Booboo.”
I give her a pointed look that requires no further explanation.
“Okay, okay! I promise not to call you that in front of her. Does she know about us, our history?”
“She knows we dated.”
“Dated. Yep, we did that. Then there’s the whole engagement thing.”
My unblinking eyes find hers.
“It wasn’t an engagement and you know it.”
“Well we were talking about marriage. Don’t deny it.”
“Shit, Nia. Don’t start anything. We didn’t work out. That’s it.”
Her face is hard to read. I know that look though. She’s about to say something provocative or funny.
“You broke my mother’s heart, you know.”
“I’m sure she bonded with your next boyfriend.”
“Eventually. But in her mind you were a hard act to follow. She was actually mad at me.”
She is not exaggerating. Her mom loved me and I still miss the white enchiladas she used to make. They were always the best, unless she had too much to drink. Then I’d never know what the enchiladas would taste like. One time they smelled of whiskey.
Those days were becoming more frequent by the time Nia and I broke up. So was Nia’s drinking. Like mother like daughter. I’d heard she was busted on someone’s set for drinking before a big stunt, I always hoped it was just gossip.
“Let her know I said hi,” I say.
“I will. Maybe she’ll finally believe the whole breakup was your fault, not mine.”
Nia was always a stoic person. Not one to be prone to hysterics or meltdowns. There was a time I thought she wasn’t even capable of deep feelings. But I came to realize she had just seen too many dramatic moments coming from her mother.
I don’t think I ever saw her cry in the entire time we were together. But she has a big mouth sometimes, and rarely holds back what she wants to say. What started out as a positive trait in my eyes morphed into a negative. My own idiosyncrasies landed squarely in the negative column for her. It was a lose/lose/win/win in the end.
When our relationship died she fought for it to be revived. But when it’s over, it’s over. She tried to convince me otherwise, but eventually saw the light. I guess that spirit is what drew me in the first place. It just wasn’t enough to keep me.
Luckily, we hardly ever see each other. The occasional film. A daily on a TV series. That’s it.
As we reach the table, Nia leaves her cap on the seat between Ty and Kinnie, and heads for the buffet. I motion for the girls to join me so we can do the same.
“Hungry?” I say to Natalie.
“I’m starved. I can’t believe the choices,” Jenna says, taking her place behind Nia.
“What about you, baby?”
Natalie smiles sweetly. “I could eat.”
There’s no anger or questioning expression, but I can read her face like a book
. This is a look every man has come to know. It’s the ‘I’m pretending everything’s alright, but we will talk about this later’ face. So I address it head on.
Leaning in, I explain myself. “I know what you’re thinking. And yes, Nia and I dated. I would have told you earlier if I’d have known she was going to be working today. I had no idea,” I whisper.
The truth seems to satisfy her. In my experience with women even the truth is sometimes suspect. But none of them were Natalie. She doesn’t even look at Nia. Okay. Crisis averted.
Maybe I spoke too soon because Nia turns and faces Natalie.
“Hi. We didn’t get a chance to chat.”
Natalie won’t interpret this as just friendly. She’ll identify what’s happening. One woman checking out her replacement. Son of a bitch. But Natalie extends a hand and a happy-to-know-you smile.
“Hello. I enjoyed watching you drive in that scene this morning. It was spectacular. I’d never have the courage to be a stuntwoman.”
“My dad was in the business so I grew up around these kind of guys. It kind of rubs off on you.”
Okay. So far so good. Then Nia pitches a thumb at me.
“This one taught me about high falls. He’s the man. In more ways than one.” Then she laughs at her own cleverness.
A stillness comes over Natalie and I know not to think it’s good. What the hell am I going to say to that? It looks like Natalie is figuring it out too. There’s a few beats where nobody says anything. Nia’s eyes travel from my face to Natalie’s.
“You’ve got a good guy there.”
“I figured that one out for myself.”
As Nia steps up to the buffet and begins loading her plate I catch Natalie’s gaze. She’s holding back a smile. I raise my shoulders in surrender and shake my head. I’m clearly outmatched by the communication skills of the female sex.
* * *
“So, how did you like your introduction to the film business?”
Natalie stretches out on the bed and threads her fingers behind her head. “I liked it a lot. It wasn’t as I expected.”
