Exposure Season 1 e-1

by Tonya Muir

  I tell her about Omaha and the phone message I heard. "That’s all I know."

  She looks as angry as I feel. "Maybe she doesn’t know how to be liked or cared for. Those couillons!"

  I shrug silently. Maybe. But there is Erik and she’s mentioned a grandfather. Plus she does have some kind of relationship with Susan. I can’t figure out why the fuck she’d want Susan instead of me but self-esteem has never been a big problem of mine.

  "We must seem from a different planet," Mama says and finishes up her coffee.

  "I think she’s feeling a little overwhelmed," I agree.

  "Harper, you dote on her."

  I’m shocked. I don’t dote on Kelsey. I say as much.

  Mama laughs and clears my plate, rinsing it in the sink and dropping it into the dishwasher. "You were good with her and Clark."

  I shrug. "Kingsley babies are easy to love. She just needs practice." I can’t believe I said that. "With Clark," I add but I can tell by her smile that I already blew it.

  "Practice makes perfect."

  I shake my head, hiding a smirk. My parents are impossible. It’s late and I’m tired so I stand up and stretch. "It’s good to be home, Mama."

  "Well, don’t wait so long next time," she chides. "And I’m glad you brought her."

  "Mama, you know some matches just can’t be made," I say stupidly and then cringe. Shit, I just challenged her. We’re really in for it now.

  I can hear her chuckling as I make my way up the staircase. I can’t wait to see the rest of my family tomorrow. My visit is all the sweeter having Kelsey here to share it.

 

  Next Week on Must Read TV:

 

  I’m wondering where Kels has gotten to when Rachel comes into the garden with a tray of ice tea. Ohm I don’t like the look on her face. It’s far too smug. She sets the tray down, picks up a glass and turns to me, placing it in my hand. "She’s cute, Harper."

  Oh shit.

 

  "Excuse me for a minute, guys." I grasp the glass and head for forbidden territory. I gotta get Kels out of there.

 

  Episode Sixteen: We Are Family

  As I slowly come into full wakefulness, I wonder how I can smuggle this bed back to Los Angeles. It has to be the most comfortable thing I have ever slept in. Every time I stretch, I find a new comfortable spot and I’m nearly lulled backed to sleep. It’s easy to curl up here and rest. I’ve never felt so safe.

  However, the smell of food cooking and all the laughter coming from downstairs compel me to get out of this big, old, wonderful bed. I slip on my robe and tie it off, moving to the door that connects my room to Harper’s. A quick peek through confirms she’s not there. I didn’t figure she would be.

  I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the fresh scent of this place. It’s amazing how I don’t miss the smell of smog. I listen carefully to the sounds floating in through the slightly open balcony doors. Ah, there she is. Turning, I walk out onto to the balcony.

  I look down into the garden to find my partner dressed in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt rolling around on the ground, covered in little bodies. She must be wrestling and playing with every child in the house. They are all laughing and giggling as they find new ways to attack Tabloid.

  I see four men who I know instantly are her bothers sitting nearby. It’s as if Cécile and Jonathan bought a photocopier which produced children. The only difference is the last one came out a girl. They are all tall and broadshouldered – though the oldest two, Gerrard and Jean, I believe, are a bit thicker through the chest than the younger two. But they all share the same dark hair, straight noses, light eyes, and length of bone. I can’t wait to see what their spouses look like.

  The brothers are encouraging their children and laughing loudly every time one of their suggestions is used to elicit a new yell from their sister.

  "No fair!" Harper shouts as a water gun is brought into the fray and she is doused from the back.

  I fold my arms across my chest, hugging this moment to me, and watch them. I still can’t believe this is the Harper Kingsley I work with back in LA. Our eyes meet when she gets rolled over by one of the kids.

  She starts pushing kids off of her body. "Okay, guys, she’s up. Ready?"

  I watch as she scrambles to her feet, glancing up at me and smiling as she does. She motions all the kids together in a group. They all look up at me and in unison yell, "Good morning, Ms. Kelsey!"

  I can’t help but laugh. I feel the blush rise all over my face. She’s certifiable. I manage to catch my breath and give a little wave. "Good morning, everyone."

  "You coming down anytime soon, lazy bones?" Harper calls as she picks up one of the smallest children.

  "Yeah. I’m going to shower first and then I’ll be right down."

  " ‘Kay." She turns in time to find herself ambushed again and the game is back on.

  * * *

  I make my way downstairs, following the sounds of chatter and laughter until I find myself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Good morning," I offer as I step hesitantly into the room. Lots of unfamiliar faces here, and I don’t want to slip into work mode to deal with these people. I know work mode isn’t very pleasant, for anyone concerned.

  "Bonjour, Kelsey. Come on in here and let me introduce you to the rest of the family. Elaine, chér, will you put some water on to boil for tea?" Cécile’s smile and open arms are truly infectious. I am glad to accept another hug from this woman.

  "I don’t need tea if you don’t have…" I murmur as I untangle myself from her slowly.

  "Oh I have. I have Earl Gray." She laughs gently. "Harper called and made sure I understood that you drank Earl Gray tea every morning."

  "She did, huh?"

  "Mais, oui, she did."

  "Harper did that?" A slim woman asks, looking up from her work, an inscrutable expression on her face.

  "Mais, yeah." Mama grabs my hand and walks me around the huge kitchen. "This is Katherine, Gerrard’s wife."

  All right, someone can get a real insecurity complex in this family. Katherine looks like a model – long blonde hair, big blue eyes, stunning figure. I know she has to be close to forty years old, but she looks younger than I do. I’d hate her if she wasn’t Harper’s sister-in-law. And hugging me right now.

  "Pleasure to meet you, Kelsey. We’re all glad you could join us."

  "Thank you," I stammer.

  "Mom?" a small voice calls from the doorway. Katherine’s attention goes to the boy standing there.

  "What do you need, T-Jean?"

  "Can I have something to eat? I’m hungry."

  "Sure, sweetie. You go on back out and I’ll bring everyone a snack in a few moments."

  "Thanks!"

  He turns to run back outside, but Katherine’s voice stops him. "You tell your Tante Harper the next time she gets hungry to come in and ask for herself."

  The boy giggles. "Yes, ma’am."

  "Some things never change. She used to send in Robie," Cécile mutters. She leads me to the next woman, the one who asked about Harper a moment ago. "This is Rachel, Lucien’s wife."

  This is another blonde wife, but different from Katherine in almost every way imaginable. Where Katherine is tall and voluptuous, Rachel is short and has an athlete’s build. Her hair is cut short and she has hazel eyes, which belie a keen intelligence, I suspect.

  Rachel holds up her hands, which are covered in flour, and smiles. "Good to have you here. Maybe we’ll get to hear some truth about what it is old Harper does nowadays."

  "I think we can swap some stories," I suggest. I would love to have some dirt about a young Harper.

  We move along and come to Rene. "Good morning." I am surprised to see that she has Clark in a snuggle-pack against her chest. "How did you wrestle him away from his aunt?"

  "Wrestle is the key word. Clark is a little too young yet to be out there with that rowdy bunch. And Robie is just as bad."


  "They’re all alike, every last one of them," Katherine sighs.

  "I’m Elaine," the last wife introduces herself to me as she hands me a mug of Earl Gray. "Jean’s wife."

  Elaine is dark haired and willowy with a toothy smile. I look at her narrow hips and can’t believe this is a woman who has given birth to no less than five children, as Harper has told me. The youngest of her five is an infant boy, a few months older than Clark, sitting in a car seat on the table. He is sound asleep. "Thank you." I prepare my tea on the countertop, drizzling in some honey. "Cécile, is there anything I can do to help?"

  "Actually, yes." She gathers up a cutting board, knife and a colander of something I don’t recognize. "Could you peel these up for me? And take out the seed?"

  "Of course, I’d be happy to. But … what are those?" The item in question is a prickly-skinned green vegetable, roughly the size and shape of an avocado.

  Harper’s mother laughs. "Child, this are merlitons. After you peel them and remove the seed, we’re going to stuff them with shrimp and breadcrumbs. Then we bake them and eat them. And you will love it, so good."

  I take the vegetables and begin lending about as much help in the kitchen as I’m capable of. Thank God Erik has taught me the bare basics of cooking for myself. Peeling I can do.

  Katherine has finished putting together some snacks for everyone outside. She is about to take a tray out when Rachel stops her. "Hold on, I want to take some tea out to the boys, too."

  The two sisters-in-law look at each other and laugh.

  I think someone’s in trouble.

  * * *

  I’m wondering where Kels has gotten to when Katherine and Rachel come into the garden with trays of snacks and iced tea. The kids instantly cluster around Katherine, wanting even more sugar, God help us, while Rachel makes her way to me.

  I don’t like the look on her face. It’s far too smug. She sets the tray down on the wrought iron table. Then picks up a glass and turns to me, placing it in my hand. "She’s cute, Harper. I like her."

  Oh shit.

  "Huh?" I can’t seem to find my tongue as I sip my tea, hoping my sister-in-law won’t torture me. But this is Rachel. I know better.

  "Kelsey. She’s cute."

  "Where…where…is she?" I take another sip of tease…er…tea.

  "With Mama and the girls, in the kitchen." She says the last three words slowly, letting me know what’s going on. Rachel turns from me and picks up another glass, which she gives to Lucien, along with a kiss.

  Oh shit.

  "Excuse me for a minute, guys." I grasp the glass and head for forbidden territory. I gotta get Kels out of there.

  Years ago Mama banished all of us kids from the kitchen, declaring it to be hers alone, the one place in the house where she could have solitude. We were all quite fine with that declaration, until we realized she only meant it during the cooking of the food and not during clean up. Nevertheless, Mama’s prohibition stayed in place.

  Until Katherine.

  When Gerrard brought her home, Mama immediately took her to the kitchen and tossed us out. Together, they plotted and schemed and decided Gerrard’s fate. Not that he wasn’t amenable to it. But, he wouldn’t have been married quite so young had it been left solely up to him.

  Andrew Jackson’s kitchen cabinet has nothing on Mama’s.

  The kitchen became a litmus test of sorts for the girlfriends. If Mama liked one, she was invited into the kitchen to help. Elaine was invited into the kitchen after dinner to help with dessert. It took Mama the meal to decide if she liked the Yankee. Elaine’s family had only moved to New Orleans fifty years prior from Massachusetts.

  Rene was scooped from Robie the moment she stepped into the house. I think Mama spent more time courting her than he did. Of course, Rene has Cajun in her – her grandmère grew up near mine – and so she was instantly family. If Robie hadn’t already been head over heels in love with her, Mama would have beat him until he was. She was intent on Rene becoming a Kingsley.

  Lucien brought home a series of girls who never got past the parlor. I was actually the one who brought Rachel home. We were at Tulane at the same time – although she was in law school while I was undergrad. We took a course on entertainment law together. When I brought her home for dinner one night so we could study for the final together, she met Lucien. And got invited into the kitchen.

  I was best man in the wedding, gender notwithstanding.

  Standing in the doorway, I see that it’s worse than I thought.

  Not only is she in Mama’s kitchen, but she’s helping out with the meal.

  Mama, you’ve gone too far this time.

  I force a smile across my face as I approach my partner. I need to appear nonchalant. Despite the fact everyone is looking at me and pretending not to.

  "Good morning, Little Roo, ‘bout time you got up." I reach for one of the merliton seeds and get my hand playfully slapped.

  "Well, I’m up and having my tea." She picks up her mug to take another drink. "Thank you, by the way." She grins as she toasts me with the mug.

  "Uh huh." Oh boy. This is sooooo very bad. On so many levels.

  She takes the time to pull the collar of my polo shirt out of my sweatshirt and straighten it, like this is something she does everyday. "And I thought I’d offer a little help in the kitchen." She now hands me one of the seeds.

  I put it in my mouth immediately to keep myself from doing one of two things: saying something really stupid or kissing her.

  Rene says, "Fous le camp, Harper. Ce n’est pas tu place."

  I’ve just been ordered out of the kitchen. "Tais toi, agitateur." You be quiet, troublemaker. I look over at my favorite sister and give her my best intimidating look. It is, of course, completely wasted on her. "Tu sais ce qu’elle fout." You know what she’s up to. Meaning Mama.

  "Vas-y!" the accused orders.

  I narrow my eyes slightly at my mother at her command to leave, but not so much as to get a spoon rapped on the back of my hand. It’s been known to happen. "Kels, it’s beautiful out. You wanna come outside? I can show you around." Come on, Kels, let me get you out of here.

  "No, thanks. I’m glad to help out."

  "See, she’s fine. Dehors!" Mama repeats, looking displeased with me.

  Now Mama is pointing the way out of here. "Mama, I told you …"

  She holds up her hands and turns her head to the side. It’s her ‘I give up - what did I do to God to have him give me a child like you’ sign. I saw it quite a bit growing up.

  "Fine. I’ll be outside," I huff.

  "On t’appellera, quand on est prêt," Mama says after me.

  I snort. Yeah, right, she’ll call me back into the kitchen later. Will that be before or after you pick me up a marriage license, Mama? I’ve gotta get her off that Families for Same Sex Marriages committee.

  Now I know how my brothers felt.

  * * *

  They are laughing at me when I come out. Robie comes to my side and throws his arm around my shoulders. "She’s brutal. But we know that, we grew up with her."

  "Like a dog on a bone," I mutter.

  "I know, little sister. But, at least, Kelsey’s a cute chew toy."

  "Robie! à ça oui!" I slap him upside the head for even thinking such a thing about Kelsey. I can. My brother can’t. Even if he is my favorite. Especially since he’s my favorite.

  Oh God. I am so screwed.

  I’m glad she’s here with me. I can’t stand the thought of her being in Los Angeles watching some crappy movie marathon instead. And I like her. A lot. Okay, more than a lot. But, am I ready for her to be in that damn kitchen?

  Suddenly a football is headed my way and I catch it as it impacts my gut. I look over to see Gerrard and his two oldest sons waiting for me to toss it back.

  I do.

  Too much thinking is bad for the appetite.

  And it is Thanksgiving. I plan on stuffing myself.

  * * *

  I fini
sh with the merlitons, then take the cutting board over to Cécile, giving it to her with a little smile.

  "Merci, chér." Her smile is so kind and gentle. I shake my head a bit as I turn to see if there is anything else I can do.

  "So." Rene waves me over to the breakfast table, which she is now clearing. I don’t know why, but I begin helping her. It simply feels right. "You were going to give us dirt on Harper."

  Oh, the dirt I could give them. But somehow I think I’d better make it clean dirt. Question is, do I know any clean dirt?

  "Not without us!" Rachel calls as she, Elaine and Katherine wander over.

  Cécile looks over at us from the stove. "À oui, mes brus, I do believe it is time for us to do what we do best. Dinner is coming along nicely. Let’s relax a bit."

  With that, the breakfast table is properly prepared and very soon we are all seated around it with fresh cups of tea, coffee and finger food. Somehow, I had a feeling we were going to end up here.

  "Come on now, Kelsey," Elaine encourages as she scoops Geoffrey out of his car seat. He looks at me as he rests his head against his mother’s shoulder. His hair is dark like the rest of the Kingsleys, but his sleepy brown eyes remind me of a baby deer. He focuses on me, poking his little tongue out from between his lips. He yawns, almost making me join him. Once his fists are done rubbing his eyes, he smiles and reaches for me.

  Oh shit. Me and kids. Not a mix I had considered before. Still, he’s too cute to be denied. I open my arms to him and he extends his body. It doesn’t take long for me to find myself with a lap full of eight-month-old. He’s content to sit upright in the crook of my arm with his bottom on my lap, staring at his mother and sucking on his fingers. I look down at him and begin to understand why Harper likes this so much.

  As I glance around the table, I get the feeling that all of these women are communicating telepathically. Guess that’s what happens in close knit families.

  "Tell you what," I offer as I sip my tea. I’m grateful for Harper’s baby lessons from dinner last night, which allow me to be reasonably comfortable right now. If nothing, I’m a fast learner. "I’ll trade you two for one, but you have to go first."