Reel Sharpe

by Jenna Baker

  *****

  My parents’ house was along one of the Venice canals – a series of waterways named after the famous canals in Venice, Italy. Houses were connected by white arched bridges creating a picturesque town that was featured in just about every movie ever made. My parents’ house was one of the gaudier ones, set in the Spanish style that was so popular in Los Angeles. The ceramic tile roofs kept the houses cool and gave you the feeling you were on vacation in Cabo San Lucas year round.

  We stepped inside the house and were greeted by the wonderful aroma of Chan’s Kitchen takeout. The front entryway led to a large living area to the left, which was connected to an even larger kitchen. The house was all earth tones, with stucco walls and cathedral ceilings. Looking up, you could see the “veranda,” as my mother called it, that overlooked the first floor. The furniture was covered in rich textiles, and the floors were Spanish tile that were terrific for cooling your feet down. I kicked off my shoes and touched the cold ceramic.

  “Whoa, nice digs,” Foxy said looking around.

  “My mom works in television,” I explained.

  We stepped into the living room, which doubled as a shrine to the various awards my mother had won over the course of her career. The pièce de resistance was an ornate shelf that reached up to the ceiling, filled with certificates and plaques and little gold statues. My mother was in the kitchen laying everything out on the table, and my Dad was in his usual spot on the couch.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” my Dad said, standing up to greet me.

  “Hello, company!” my mom said as she walked into the room. She was tall and blonde and had been nipped and tucked in all the right spots. She had the look and presence of a celebrity, and when she entered the room, everyone turned. She was wearing a pair of pale blue Capri pants and a white blouse with a turquoise necklace. She wore oven mitts on her hands to give the illusion that she had just cooked. I knew no one would believe that she was a master Chinese chef or that she had plated everything in individual takeout boxes, but I loved her for trying.

  In contrast to my TV-star mom, my Dad was a slender man, short and fragile. He had salt-and-pepper hair and wore eyeglasses. He was the picture of an aging man and represented everything my mother was fighting so hard against.

  I felt a hand touch mine and I turned to see it was Reid. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and gently pulled me back towards him. The back of my shirt was against the front of his and I could feel his mouth by my neck. I didn’t know what he was doing but I wasn’t going to fight it either. I felt his warm breath as he whispered into my ear, “Don’t tell your mom about my parents, okay?”

  I smiled and nodded. I hadn’t planned to, but I did have a big mouth and it was entirely possible that his father’s connection to my mother might come out. Reid released my hand and I stepped forward, regaining my composure.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Reid and Foxy – they’re the detectives I’m working with. This is Manny, my sound guy, and you know Mac,” I announced.

  My mother walked up to Mac and kissed him square on the lips. “Hello, honey, how are you?”

  Mac didn’t look too shaken up by the kiss - he was used to it by now. “I’m keeping busy.” He turned to my dad, who was still holding his magazine. “Any good ones in there?”

  “Nothing but Japanese soap boxes,” my dad said.

  Reid held out a hand to shake my mom’s hand, but she went in for the hug. I breathed a sigh of relief that it was just a hug until she started stroking his chest.

  Reid looked over at me. “Does your mom always pat down house guests?”

  “Mom, please stop,” I said.

  “Well, aren’t you a hunky little thing,” she said to Reid, releasing her grip.

  “You’re that host, right? From LA Incorporated?” Reid asked.

  My mother beamed. “Yes, that’s me – Evelyn Sharpe. I can’t believe you recognize me.” She leaned in to him, placing her hand on his chest again. “Please tell me you’ve had a crush on me your whole life. I can make those childhood dreams a reality, you know.”

  Reid actually blushed and glanced at my Dad. “Uh, I don’t want to get your husband jealous.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about him – we have an arrangement. Right, Nick?”

  My dad looked up. “Huh? Oh yeah, we’re divorced – you can have her. I just live here because I like the neighbors.”

  Reid gave me a confused stare, and I shrugged my shoulders. Foxy approached my mother next. “I’ve had a crush on you my whole life. Wanna get a room?” he said smiling.

  “Don’t do it, Mom, he’s married,” I warned.

  She winked at him. “She’s such a spoil sport, isn’t she?”

  Manny said his hellos to my mother and father, and then we all moved to the dining room.

  I sat against the wall with Foxy to my left and Reid next to him. Across from me sat Mac and Manny, and my parents sat at the head and foot of the table.

  “I recommend the salad,” I said to the group.

  “Get real, Sharpe,” Foxy said, grabbing the beef with broccoli.

  Mac grabbed a salad and poured it from the to-go container onto his plate. “I’ll try it,” he said.

  “Such a nice man,” my mom said, glancing at Mac. “Why haven’t you two ever gotten together, Victoria?”

  “Mom, come on.”

  My dad looked at Reid, who was taking some salad as well. “So, Detective Reid, how is my baby working out? Is she a big help to the team?”

  Foxy choked on his broccoli. I kicked him under the table.

  “Yes sir,” Reid said politely. “She has a very unconventional approach to things, but I think we are starting to understand each other.”

  Reid looked down at me, and I smiled. It was a nice thing to say, even though I knew he didn’t mean it.

  Just then, I heard the front door open and close. “Mom, whose cars are those outside?” I heard my sister ask.

  I froze in my chair. I had not counted on her being home. I figured she’d be out getting a colonic or acupuncture or something.

  Ginny walked into the room and stopped when she saw me. “Oh, look at this, isn’t this nice? Glad I was invited to the party.”

  “Sit down and join us,” my mom said.

  Manny looked at me. “Ay mamí – who is this?”

  “She’s getting married in a few days – back off,” I whispered to Manny.

  Ginny scanned the group and rested her eyes on Reid. She walked towards the table and leaned on the back of Manny’s chair. Manny gave me an exaggerated smile while I squinted my eyes at him, giving him a warning.

  “Who’s this tall drink of water?” Ginny asked, staring at Reid.

  Foxy giggled. “Oh man, here we go. Another chick invading her turf – Sharpe’s gonna go ape shit.”

  I dug my nails into Foxy’s leg and spoke evenly. “This is Detective Reid. Detective, this is my sister Ginny.”

  Ginny extended a hand across the table, revealing some cleavage in the process. “Wow, Detective. You can investigate me any day.”

  Reid looked at my mother and then over to me. “I think I know who she takes after.”

  Ginny sat down next to Mac and reached for a salad.

  “You are getting married on Sunday, young lady,” my dad chided.

  “So? I can still flirt. There’s nothing in the marriage vows about that,” Ginny whined.

  Manny turned to her. “Honey, if you need to sow your wild oats…”

  “Manny!” I snipped.

  I heard the front door open again, followed by the sound of feet shuffling. “Ginny – were you just gonna leave me out there?”

  “Carrying things from the car is man’s work,” Ginny retorted, totally unconcerned.

  Bob, my future brother-in-law, lumbered into the kitchen carrying several bags of birdseed. He was tall, a little heavy and balding a little too much for someone only in their late thirties. He wore glasses and a wrinkled beige suit. He dropped the bags on the c
ounter with a thud. “Why couldn’t we just get rice? It would weigh less,” he asked Ginny.

  “Rice kills birds, you dope – nobody throws rice anymore,” Ginny replied.

  Bob looked over at the table at the group that was assembled. He picked me out of the crowd and smirked. “Hey, Vapor-Rub – who are your friends?”

  Bob had come up with the name “Vicky Vapor-Rub” for me, and every time he said it, I wanted to claw his eyes out. I usually called him Bobble-Head in reply, but given that we had guests, I decided not to stoop to his level. “Bob,” I said calmly, “these are the people I’ve been working with. These are Detectives Reid and Flanagan and this is Mac, my camera op, and Manny, my sound op. Everyone, this is Bob, Ginny’s fiancé.”

  Bob waved to us halfheartedly, then pulled out a beer from the fridge. He popped the top off and downed the entire thing in one sip. He followed it up with a loud belch.

  I was starting to realize that my theory about the sanctity of my family home was a bunch of crap. I couldn’t control this bunch no matter where I was.

  “Okay, someone say it,” Ginny ordered the group. “You want to know why we’re getting married on a Sunday, right? You think we’re cheap, right?”

  “Gin, no one even knew it was on Sunday,” I said.

  “Yeah, right – Dad just announced it. He practically shouted it from the rooftops.”

  “No, I didn’t,” my dad said.

  “Well, we’re not cheap,” Ginny continued. “In fact, my marriage is being officiated by Motgi Sanjeev, if you must know.”

  “Who’s that?” Foxy asked.

  Ginny looked shocked that he didn’t know. “Bob, are you hearing this?”

  “Huh?” Bob asked, joining us at the table holding his second beer.

  “He’s that life coach, right?” Mac said.

  “He’s a guru. Motgi has been my mother’s personal guru for years, but ever since he consulted for the first lady, his schedule has been impossible. We had to arrange the whole wedding around him, but it’s worth it.”

  “He is an inspirational man,” my mother added.

  I could see Reid smiling and shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. I knew my mother and sister were very Hollywood, and I wasn’t going to make excuses for them. Instead, I changed the subject.

  “So Dad, we’re going to bust a guy after this,” I said.

  Bob let out a laugh.

  “Aren’t you working today?” I asked Bob, eyeing his beer.

  “That sounds exciting, kiddo,” my dad said. “What’s the charge?”

  Ginny chimed in. “Duh, Dad, the show is called Murder Live! They’re not busting him for a parking ticket.”

  “Wow – you’re nabbing him for murder? That’s big stuff, kid. But it’s probably just another day at the office for you, right, Detective?” my dad said to Foxy.

  “Pretty much,” Foxy said. “But we still get a rush out of it. That’s why I wanted to stall a little – you know, to prolong the excitement.”

  “He does the same thing with his bowel movements,” Reid explained.

  “Ouch! Burn!” Manny said.

  “Wow, Reid, you made a joke,” I said.

  “Handsome and funny? Where do I sign up?” Ginny asked. Bob didn’t seem to hear her comment; he was too focused on chewing the skin off the side of his finger.

  I looked at Reid. “You are just eating this up, aren’t you? First Rose, then my mother, now my sister.”

  “I don’t mind it,” Reid grinned.

  “Rose and Ginny are only flirting to annoy me, so don’t get too flattered, and my mom would hit on a homeless man.”

  “That’s not true!” my mom said. “Well, if he was good-looking, maybe.”

  “Does it bother you when women flirt with me, Sharpe?” Reid asked playfully.

  I pursed my lips. I couldn’t believe this guy was getting cheeky with me. Worst of all, everyone was now silent and staring at me, including Bob. “It doesn’t bother me,” I countered. “I just don’t want you to get too big of a head.”

  “That’s what she said!” Foxy and Bob both chanted in unison. Everyone burst out laughing and the two men exchanged a high five.

  I could deal with Foxy messing with me, but I drew the line at Bob. I was about to tell him where he could stick his beer when the phone rang. My mother jumped up to answer it. She spoke softly with the person on the other end of the phone and quickly hung up. She turned to all of us, a smile slowly forming on her face. Finally she burst out, “I got hemorrhoids!”

  Bob spit out some of his drink laughing, while my sister jumped up and hugged my mom. “Congratulations!”

  In her older years, my mother had been earning a nice salary selling diabetes medications, adult diapers, and now hemorrhoid cream. She was particularly excited because she was a current customer of her new client, Burt’s Hemorrhoid Cream. My mother used it daily under her eyes to reduce puffiness, and she swore by it.

  I turned to Reid and Foxy. “It’s for a commercial – she doesn’t actually have hemorrhoids.”

  “Wonderful news, Evelyn,” my dad said.

  “A toast to the new face of ass cream!’” Bob called out, holding up his beer triumphantly. Foxy let out a laugh while everyone else turned and stared at Bob.