Chapter Eight
“Don’t look now, but they’re back.”
Ada made the announcement as if she were warning her about the return of a crew of aliens. Maggie didn’t have to ask her who the “they” referred to. She knew.
Adam rose in anticipation of dismissal. He’d come in fifteen minutes ago in hopes of talking some sense into Maggie about the commercial. He’d had to wait his turn through a series of telephone calls. Maybe next time he’d take a number, he thought, the way they did at a bakery. It seemed rather appropriate.
Maggie put a hand out to stop him from leaving. “Wait. If this is who I think it is, I want you to meet her.” Maggie was certain that once Adam met Sandy, he’d understand why she was so adamant. She nodded at Ada. “Send them in, please.”
“Your funeral,” Ada muttered, withdrawing.
Maybe, in a way, it was. But not the way Ada meant. Chaos she could take. Chaos she had learned to coexist with. This was something else. She was asking for trouble. Common sense dictated that she work at pushing Joe Sullivan and his entourage out of her life, not find a way to reel them into it.
But there were times that instincts overruled common sense. Maggie thought this was one of those times. Sandy was better suited to the type of commercial she had envisioned than the mini-army of child actors and actresses she’d suffered through the last two days.
Adam nodded toward Ada’s departing figure. “That didn’t sound promising.”
Maggie waved away Ada’s comment. “Ada’s just intimidated by anyone under five feet.”
“That means you just barely made the cut.” He grinned at her. Like his brothers, Adam was almost a foot taller than Maggie.
“Wise guy.” She turned at the sound in the doorway. As soon as they entered, Maggie got the full inference behind Ada’s tone. “They” were not two. “They” were four. Maggie had a definite feeling of déjà vu. Joe Sullivan came in herding three little girls before him. But this time, the look of wonder was absent from their faces. They just looked happy to see her.
It affected her more than she’d thought it would.
She had no idea that she’d missed them until she saw them again and felt the sudden wave of warmth flooding through her. It occurred simultaneously to her being engulfed by the girls.
Maggie raised her eyes to Joe, surprised. “You brought them all.”
“I always said you were sharp.” What adults couldn’t accomplish, his nieces had, and with incredible ease. He had never felt outnumbered by women before. He certainly did now. “I had to. They’re a set.”
She was about to ask him what he was talking about when Christine, silent long enough, answered the question for her. The little girl made fists at her waist. “Why do you want to see just Sandy and not me?”
Maggie looked up at Joe and he merely spread his hands wide as he shrugged. When he had attempted to leave with only Sandy, the others had deserted Mrs. Phelps and the board game she was playing with them to demand to be taken along as well. Since Maggie hadn’t specified not to bring the others along, he did.
“Not us,” Jennifer corrected her sister stubbornly.
This one was not going to get lost in the shuffle, Maggie thought, looking at Jennifer. Sandy, however, was another story. She was already beginning to fade, like a shadow being engulfed by the long fingers of night.
Maggie allowed Christine to scramble onto her lap. She exchanged looks with Joe over the little girl’s head and saw a small triumphant smile curving his mouth. He obviously thought she was feeling just as overwhelmed by them as he was. The man had a great deal to learn about coexisting with children.
“It’s not that I don’t want to see you,” Maggie explained gently. Though her words were addressed to the other two, she was looking at Sandy. “It’s just that I thought I could use Sandy in a commercial we’re going to be making.”
She looked toward Adam for confirmation. His expression remained blank. She thought he would have been convinced with just one look. Sandy had that innocent sweetness that they were looking for.
“A commercial?” Christine all but bounced out of her lap before resettling. Her attention was riveted to Maggie. “Like for toys?” Hope shimmered in every word.
“No, for my cookies.”
“Me,” Christine cried. “Use me.”
Not to be outdone, Jennifer joined her voice to the plea. “No, use me.”
Sandy said nothing, already taking for granted that her sisters would win the position away from her. Joe placed a protective arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze. He’d made a mistake bringing the others, but he hadn’t wanted to get in the middle of playing favorites. It would have seemed that way to the others if he had refused to bring them along.
Maggie bit her lower lip, debating. Christine and Jennifer were both tugging on her, trying to persuade her to choose them. Not a single word came out of Sandy. Maggie reached out to the little girl. A hesitant smile rose to Sandy’s lips as the girl linked her fingers with Maggie’s.
“How about you, Sandy?” Maggie urged. “Nobody’s asked you. Do you want to be in my commercial?”
“She doesn’t have to be, we can,” Christine insisted. A huff comprised equally of eagerness and impatience accompanied the words.
Maggie was kind, but firm. “I’m speaking to Sandy.” Her eyes shifted back to the girl’s face. “Do you, Sandy?”
Joe smiled to himself. There was a great deal about this high-powered business woman that he found attractive, and it went beyond the velvet texture of her mouth.
Sandy slowly nodded. Because Maggie seemed to be ignoring her sisters, so did she. “Yes.”
That was all Maggie wanted to hear. “Adam? Do you have a copy of the script with you?”
This wasn’t going to work, Adam thought. He saw the approaching fiasco in terms of dollars misspent. They were going to lose valuable studio time trying to coax a performance out of a girl who had to have each word almost physically pulled out of her mouth.
Adam handed the script to Maggie and bent over, whispering so that only she could hear him.
“Discipline, Maggie. Discipline.” If she would only let him handle things the way he was supposed to, they could have avoided this disaster in the making.
Maggie refused to subscribe to Adam’s negative attitude. “Enthusiasm, Adam. Enthusiasm,” she pointed out. Being around the girls reminded her of years gone by, except that her brothers had been more like Christine and Jennifer. None of them had been withdrawn the way Sandy was. She had been the closest to that, inwardly. She had just never let anyone know. She never had the luxury of being able to hang back.
She thought of all she had managed to accomplish. Maybe not having the luxury to hang back had all been for the good. If she had hung back, none of this would’ve been possible. “You and the others had it, remember?”
He was far from convinced. Leaning over, Adam dug his knuckles into her desk. His voice was no longer a whisper. “We’re talking about a commercial and a lot of money being spent.”
She motioned him to the side. Flashing what could have been interpreted as an apologetic smile to Joe, she turned to Adam.
What had gotten into him? They never squabbled in front of people. If she had one firm rule, that was it. “Let me worry about that.”
Adam sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. For the most part, he was trying to curb the disappointment he felt. “You know, when you put me in charge of this project, Maggie, I had the feeling that you and I had different interpretations of what ‘being in charge’ meant.”
What was he talking about? She placed a hand on his shoulder, stretching up a little to do so. Nostalgia bit into her. She could remember when he had to reach up to hold her hand. “It’s a combined effort, Adam. Like everything else here.”
“Combined,” he echoed in muted disbelief. “Ten-ninety is not a combination, it’s like the chocolate sprinkles on top of the ice cream cone.”
She w
ished Adam hadn’t picked his time so poorly. She didn’t want Joe to think they were arguing. God knew what Joe would do with this scene when he wrote his article. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that everything that transpired around him would find its way onto the written page. It wasn’t helping her to relax.
“The sprinkles were always my favorite part,” Maggie said easily. Before Adam could comment, she turned toward the girls again. She’d made her decision about the commercial. “So, you two want to be in this, too, do you?”
“Yes!” Christine and Jennifer shouted the word like two small stereo speakers.
It could be done.
Her eyes shifted to Joe. “Is it all right with you if we use them, as well?”
Him she asked, Adam thought. Why did a stranger she’d only known three weeks merit more consideration than her own brothers? Adam blew out a breath and decided that perhaps he was getting too edgy lately.
Joe was surprised that she had bothered to consult him. She was steamrolling over her own brothers. As it happened, if she could manage to use all three girls, that was fine with him. It meant one less bone of contention he’d have to referee.
“Hey, I’m only here for the ride. I’m still not certain just what is going on.” He wasn’t embarrassed to admit it.
Maggie ran her hand over Sandy’s hair. “Adam, we haven’t cast any of the other parts, have we?”
He had thought that they would pick the rest of the children they needed from the runners-up. He could see that, once again, he had thought wrong. “Except for the woman playing the teacher, no.”
She knew that better than he did, he thought. As always, she was just thinking aloud when she brought him into things, using him as a sounding board. Usually that didn’t bother him. But he’d just passed his twenty-fifth birthday and felt it was time he stopped being Maggie’s shadow. He wanted to take on some responsibilities of his own.
Maggie nodded. “We’re going to need two more consent forms for Joe to sign.”
Joe exchanged looks with Adam. He saw the other’s suppressed annoyance. It had to be hard, working with someone who attempted to do everything single-handedly. It had to be worse when that someone was your own sister. Joe looked at Maggie. She was unaware of what she was doing, he realized. He knew her well enough now to know that she wouldn’t have made her brother feel like an inadequate appendage on purpose.
There was no guarantee that if they became involved, she wouldn’t do the same with him. What was he doing, getting mixed up with an emotional bulldozer?
“What am I signing?”
Her mind was racing ahead and she had to skid to a halt to focus on Joe’s question. She would have thought the answer was self-evident. Maybe she was going too fast. “Permission to use the girls in the commercial.”
Amid the squeals from the two youngest, he wanted to assure himself that he understood her intentions. “So you do want to use all three of them?”
“Yes.” She placed an arm around Sandy. “Sandy still has the main speaking part, but there’s space for a few extra children to be sitting around her in the classroom.”
Christine stopped trying to wiggle in under Maggie’s other arm. “We have to go to school?”
Maggie laughed at the horror on the girl’s face. “Doesn’t sound as appealing now, does it?” Christine shook her head. “It’s just a pretend school. For the commercial.”
“Oh.” Christine stood digesting the information. “Okay.” She said the word like a queen, giving permission to her subjects.
“Glad that meets with your approval,” Maggie teased.
Adam gave a short laugh. “This one reminds me of you, Mag.”
Adam’s comparison surprised her. She could see by the expression on Sullivan’s face that he agreed with her brother. Maggie opened her mouth to protest that there was a world of difference between her and an overly bossy six-year-old, then shut it again. She couldn’t very well say that around Christine. But later, she and Adam were going to have a long talk. As for Joe Sullivan, she didn’t care what he thought.
She slanted a glance toward him again, annoyed at the knowing look on his face. Business first, dressing downs later.
Maggie picked up the script from her desk, ushering Sandy over to the sofa. “Sandy, I’d like you to read a line for me.”
“She doesn’t read well,” Christine interjected as she and Jennifer clustered around her again.
Nipping-in-the-bud time. Maggie looked down at the girl, her expression telling Christine that she meant business. “We’ll practice.”
Christine wasn’t daunted. She tugged on Maggie’s arm. “What about my line?”
“You don’t have one.” Her glance swept over both girls. “You just sit and look pretty.” Maggie pointed toward the sofa.
Jennifer scrambled onto it, but Christine hung back. After a moment, she followed, although not too happily.
“I can do that.”
Maggie smiled. “I had a feeling.” She handed Sandy the script. “There isn’t very much. Just the line marked in blue.”
Sandy took the script in hand and looked down at the page. She took a deep breath. “Everything’s better with a Mag—with a Mag—” Her cheeks began to turn red as she stumbled over the word.
“Magnificent,” Maggie said gently. She squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, I know. It’s a big word.”
“That’s like you,” Christine pointed out, delighted that she had seen the similarity. She wanted Maggie to know how clever she was. “Maggie-nificent.”
The word brought back memories for Adam. He was the one who had christened the cookies with that adjective when he was a little older than Christine. He’d meant it as the highest compliment for a sister who supplied all the love he’d known was missing. Maggie had provided love and cookies and he had felt secure.
“Actually,” Adam began, drawing closer to the girls, “the cookie’s named after Maggie. Magnificent was the closest word we could come up with.”
His expression softened as he looked at his sister. She meant well, he told himself. It was just that at times it felt as if she meant too well. But then, if it hadn’t been for her and her “conquer all” attitude, they would all have still been light years away from where they were now. Sometimes, when his impatience got the better of him, he forgot that.
Maggie smiled. The name had been Adam’s idea. She had been against it initially, but he and Ethan had persuaded her. Richie thought it was a great joke, but then, to Richie, everything was laced with humor. She’d seen to that. She’d striven more than half her life to make sure that they weren’t touched by insecurities, the way she had been.
“Never mind how the cookie got its name.” She gave Sandy a hug. “Okay, can we try it again?”
Sandy nodded. She held the script firmly in both hands, as if she was afraid it would fly away from her if she released it. Taking another deep breath, she repeated the line with feeling.
“Everything’s better with a Magnificent—” she looked up at Maggie, proud of herself for getting it right “—chocolate Chip Cookie inside.” Her eyes were hopeful, hungry for approval as she looked up again.
Maggie felt pride weaving through her with bold stitches. “You’re a natural, honey.”
Sandy looked undecided whether or not that was good. “A natural what?”
“She means you have natural talent,” Joe explained. He was surprised that she didn’t read the words haltingly. Maybe Maggie was on to something here.
“Exactly.” Maggie looked over her shoulder at Adam, waiting for his input.
He had no trouble admitting he was wrong, especially when it seemed to make everyone so happy. “Okay, you were right. She sounds better cold than most of the other little thespians we had trooping through.”
“What are those?” Jennifer shivered, envisioning some sort of monsters.
“Actors, Jenny, would-be actors,” Maggie explained before Joe had a chance to answer his niece. She turned toward hi
m. “All we need is your approval via your signature on the consent forms and we’re in business.” Joe could see that the girls thought his agreement was a foregone conclusion. He grinned, holding out for just a second.
“I have a feeling, Maggie McGuire, that you don’t need anyone’s approval to be in business.” If there had been any lingering doubts, Adam’s laugh dispelled them. Maggie looked at Joe pointedly and he held his hands up in surrender. “Where are the papers? I’ll sign.”
Christine made one last pitch. “Are you sure we don’t get to talk?”
Maggie pretended to look over the pages in the script. “I’m afraid not.”
“Then I’ll really sign.” Joe laughed as he ruffled Christine’s hair.
She tossed her head indignantly and smoothed down her hair. “Uncle Joe!”
Sandy beamed. Joe looked at Maggie. “I appreciate this.”
His words warmed her, like a burst of warm air after a long walk on a wintry night. She shook it off.
“I wasn’t doing it for you,” she pointed out firmly as Adam left to get the consent forms.
“I still appreciate this.”
She merely nodded and turned her attention to the girls, refusing to acknowledge the strange knot in her stomach.
With the principal participants of the commercial signed, there was nothing to impede the filming. Studio space, thanks to a few phone calls, was on standby. Shooting began early in the morning.
Maggie postponed a scheduled meeting so she could be on the set to smooth over any problems that might arise with the girls. Adam had expected nothing less, though he had hoped for a free hand.
The commercial, as she had envisioned it, was a simple scene within a classroom. Outside, there was a steady stream of rain, inside, the steady drone of a teacher’s voice. The camera shifted to several children before it finally closed in on Sandy.
The little girl slowly burrowed her hand into her backpack and pulled out a bright red sack with the words Magnificent Chocolate Chip Cookies emblazoned on it in pristine white. She took one out and bit into it.
The Women in Joe Sullivan's Life Page 11
