Another Mother

by Kim Hartfield

  Since I’d started working again, I hadn’t gone out. My friends had texted me to let me know what they were up to, but forty-hour weeks had sapped me of the required energy.

  Kiara, one of the make-up ladies, tsked when she saw me. “Hung over again?”

  “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” I took a seat and leaned my head back, ready to close my eyes and space out for the next hour.

  My hairstylist, Elena, took off my cap and went to work on my hair, and I relaxed at the sound of their chatting. Apparently Kiara’s boyfriend was up to no good. Elena had been married for years and kept telling her she needed to relax and make compromises. The other actors and stylists threw in their thoughts once in a while.

  I heard Emma and Sarah’s voices as they came in—I’d arrived before them for once. Keeping my eyes closed, I said, “Hey.”

  “Hey, Katie!” Emma said. “How was your weekend?”

  That kid acted like we were friends, or something. “Not too exciting,” I said. “How about yours?”

  “What do celebrities do on the weekend?” Sarah asked before Emma could answer. She stood off to the side from her daughter’s chair, leaning against the wall.

  “Whatever you two are doing.”

  “Emma may be a celebrity soon, but not me,” she said.

  I opened my eyes, causing a yelp from Kiara, who’d been putting on eyeshadow. “You might be surprised,” I said. “Child actors’ parents can get a good amount of attention, especially when the child gets really famous.”

  “I doubt that,” Sarah said. “No one’s going to think twice about an average-looking, divorced single mom.”

  Did she really see “average” when she looked into the mirror? I blinked my eyes open again, my face twisting up as I sat forward. I expected to Kiara to be irritated again, but she’d stopped applying make-up and swiveled around, along with Elena and the two women working on Emma.

  “You are definitely not average-looking,” Elena said. “If I had a chance to make you over…”

  “Not to offend you, honey, but there’s so much more you could do with those gorgeous waves,” Emma’s stylist said.

  “A little eyeliner would really make your eyes pop,” Kiara added.

  “I’d look worse than you with that hairstyle and the amount of makeup you wear,” Autumn said. “And I’m playing a teenager.”

  I looked harder at Sarah, trying to picture what they were saying. Sarah was already attractive, and a few simple changes would turn her into a stunner. She wouldn’t look like she was twenty, but she could definitely be a hot mom.

  “Oh, please.” Sarah waved away the suggestions. “I’m thirty-one years old. There’s no one I need to impress.”

  “How about yourself?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “I like myself fine. I should get to work, actually.”

  “Think about what we said,” Kiara called.

  Elena sprayed something onto my hair. “Come see me when you’re free. We’ll talk about a cut and color.”

  “That’s okay. Thank you, though.” Sarah darted away.

  *

  We had a few scenes to tape in the afternoon, so I chugged a cup of coffee as soon as I got back to the set. “One thing before we start,” I said, checking my script and then looking at Jim. “My character is wincing in this scene. Is that a grief thing, or…?”

  “You’re feeling ill, actually,” Jim said. “Reread the stage directions.”

  I glanced at the script. It did say something about touching my stomach. “Why am I ill?”

  “You’ll find out later. This is the kind of thing you should bring up during the cold read, by the way.”

  “All right, sorry.” I headed over to the spot the camera operators had blocked for me.

  Not knowing my character’s future was getting to me, especially when I didn’t know if she might be the murderer. I’d known every single thing about the inner lives of the other characters I’d played, although Jim’s way was also a legit method of directing.

  “All right, scene,” he called. “Scene seven, take one. Lights, camera… action!” He clapped the clapboard and stepped to the side.

  I stood next to Richard in the kitchen, and we looked at each other warily. “There’s only enough food for a few days,” I said. “We were going to go on a shopping expedition on Friday. If the snow doesn’t let up, we could be trapped here for longer than that.”

  “Charlotte was murdered, and you’re worried about your stomach?” he snapped. “There’s no way we’ll be trapped for that long. This snow is going to melt any day now, but Charlotte will still be dead.”

  I sniffled, trying to wince as Jim had said. “I’m just trying my best to cope.”

  “Wesley must’ve killed her,” Richard said. “Or else one of their awful children did.”

  “Gavin or Lida?” I whispered. “It couldn’t be. Why would any child murder their own mother?”

  “It doesn’t make any sense to me, either, but I know it wasn’t me or you. It wasn’t Naomi, either.”

  Touching my stomach, I gave half a laugh. “Our little Naomi couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “The three of us need to stay away from those people,” Richard said urgently. “I don’t want them anywhere near us.”

  “We’re in a two-bedroom cabin. We can’t stay too far away from them.”

  Richard gave me a dark look. “We’ll do our best.”

  “And scene!” Jim said. “That was perfect, you two, but the boom was in the shot.”

  Everyone groaned. I rolled my eyes, looking at the boom mic hovering just over us. The technician looked apologetic. “Sorry, guys.”

  On the sidelines, Emma just looked confused. I saw Sarah lean down to explain what’d happened, her lips brushing against Emma’s ear. For a brief second, I felt a bit jealous of the kid. Sarah stood again, keeping a hand on Emma’s shoulder as they watched the camera people set up again.

  “Okay, let’s do that exactly like last time,” Jim said. “You two were great, really great.”

  “Great” wouldn’t get me the last five minutes of my life back.

  We ran the scene a couple more times, getting two clean takes and then two sets of close-ups. As I moved so the camera operators could take off the blocking tape, Emma flawlessly cartwheeled onto the set.

  “Wow.” To my surprise, my admiration was genuine.

  Hearing me, she did another cartwheel and looked over at me for approval.

  “All right, that’s enough showing off.” Sarah hurried over.

  “She’s great,” I said. “Is that, like, a normal kid thing? Is everyone under the age of twelve just able to do that?”

  “No, Emma does gymnastics three times a week.”

  “Can’t you do the splits?” Emma asked me, sliding down to the floor.

  I shook my head slowly. “Maybe if I broke both my legs.”

  Emma stuck out her tongue. “It’s so easy.”

  “Be nice, Emma,” Sarah said.

  “No, it’s okay. It’s pretty cool that she can do all of that stuff. I never had time when I was a kid.”

  “I’m working on my drop-back,” Emma said, standing up and bending over backwards.

  “Sweetie, you can show Katie later.” Sarah gestured at the actors and crew. “Everybody’s waiting for you.”

  “Oops.” Emma stood up. “I’ll show you at the end of the day, Katie.”

  “Okay.”

  I stepped off the set, wondering if I was really going to stay late at work just to see a kid show off her gymnastics skills. When had I turned into a person who cared what some random child could do?

  More importantly, why was I kind of looking forward to it?

  Seven – Sarah

  “Why can’t I talk to Lida now, Mommy?” Emma asked Katie, crossing her arms as she stood in the bedroom of the movie set. “I haven’t talked to her all day.”

  “You stay away f
rom her, Naomi. There’s a very bad person in this cabin, and we don’t know if it might be her.” Katie’s voice trembled as she hugged Emma to her, bringing her to sit on her lap.

  “But Lida is my friend,” Emma said. “Gavin, too.”

  Katie glanced behind her at Richard, who spoke in a thundering voice. “No!”

  “No, honey,” Katie said softly. “They’re not your friends right now. Maybe when we all get out of here, you can play together again.”

  “Never again,” Richard said firmly. “Not until we find out who the killer is.”

  “Shh, don’t put thoughts like that in her head,” Katie said, covering Emma’s ears. “She’s only eight—she won’t understand.”

  “She’s seen a dead body. It’s a little late to protect her.”

  Emma wrenched away from Katie and stood in the corner, facing both of the others with her eyes flashing. “Why would Lida or Gavin have killed their mommy?” she asked in a heartbreakingly broken tone. “How do I know it wasn’t one of you?”

  “Cut!” Jim yelled. “Great take, everyone.”

  “That was amazing,” I said, running onto the set to give Emma a tight squeeze. “I felt like I was really there.”

  “You are really here, Mommy.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Let’s take it again from the top,” Jim said.

  I backed off, giving Katie a nod as I allowed her to take my place. In my decidedly not professional opinion, spending time with her outside the studio had worked. Her acting in the third episode had been stellar, especially the parts when she was with Emma.

  She nodded back at me, her eyes lingering long enough to make me shiver. Sometimes I wondered what went through that woman’s head. What must it be like to be that young, that glamorous? When I was her age, Emma was already two—not to mention, I’d never been famous.

  Even if she wasn’t at the top of her game when it came to her career, she was still a star and incredibly talented, with jaw-droppingly good looks. It befuddled me that she was single—if indeed she was, because our brief conversations had never touched on her love life.

  Sometimes the way she looked at me made me wonder if she could be attracted to me, but I quickly put those thoughts out of my head. There was more curiosity than desire in her glances, and I assumed I had to be as foreign a species to her as she was to me.

  What kind of woman would she go for, though? Someone young and carefree, no doubt—slim and beautiful like her, with no kids, no commitments, and plenty of money. I could just picture her locked in an embrace with another starlet, posing suggestively on the cover of a magazine.

  Sarah, you’re still looking at her. I whipped my head to one side, breaking the uncomfortable eye contact. The scene started over, and I carefully brought my gaze back to Katie, telling myself I wasn’t going to look too hard.

  It wasn’t as if I had a crush on her or anything. I’d never gone for a woman, although I’d considered the idea that I might not be completely straight. I’d certainly been turned on by women, but that seemed normal in today’s world of sexual fluidity. It didn’t mean I wanted to have sex with one.

  Then again, I hadn’t particularly wanted to have sex with any men since my divorce, either. I snorted to myself, wondering if David had turned me off the entire gender.

  “Cut! No noise on the set, please.” Jim looked irritated.

  “Oh, shoot. I’m so sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

  *

  “Oh my God!” Katie shrieked, putting her hands to her heart as if she’d been stabbed in the chest. “This can’t be! No! Archer, open your eyes! Please!”

  “Naomi?” Aaron asked, coming up behind her. He caught sight of Richard’s motionless body lying on the kitchen floor. “Archer!”

  “Dad, what’s wrong?” Autumn, who played the teen daughter, walked into the room, and immediately fell to the ground. “No!”

  Even though I’d heard them read these lines a few times the other day, my blood ran cold at the words. I couldn’t imagine finding anyone I knew dead, especially a spouse. I wouldn’t even have wished death on David at the lowest point of our divorce proceedings.

  Katie played the part perfectly, picking up Richard’s hand to listen for a pulse, then attempting CPR as if it wasn’t too late to bring him back. I wondered how they’d deal with his breathing for the actual episode. Was there a way to edit it out?

  Since Emma wasn’t in this scene, I could’ve left, but I found myself riveted to the spot. Emma returned from the snack table and handed me a plate, which I accepted without moving my eyes. I picked up a carrot and munched robotically, still staring straight at Katie.

  “They’re good, right?” I asked when the actors had finished.

  Emma bobbed her head. “Who do you think killed Charlotte and Archer?”

  “We’ll find out.” I ruffled her hair. “Maybe you did.”

  She snorted. “It wasn’t me.”

  “Maybe you’ll get killed, then.”

  I was mostly joking, but her eyes widened and she put down the strawberry she’d picked up. “What happens if I get killed off? Would I have to keep working?”

  “I don’t know, do you think they’d bring your character back as a ghost?”

  She considered the question seriously. “No, I don’t think so.”

  The idea of her character being killed hadn’t occurred to me before, and now I wondered what actually would happen. I wouldn’t mind if she was able to go back to school in September like usual, especially since squeezing my work into stolen moments was getting tiring. Would she get paid for the full length of the contract, though? I’d have to ask her agent.

  On set, Aaron and Archer left while the camera operators angled in on Katie and Richard for their close-up. Katie went through her lines all over again, and I watched the shifts in her attractive features. I was always impressed at how these actors could call up their emotions on command, even when all they were looking at was the lens of a camera.

  I ate another carrot, then patted Emma on the back. “You have your lines memorized for your next scene?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m going to go back and get some work done, then.”

  She squinted at me. “You stay and watch Katie’s part and not mine?”

  I guessed I kind of was about to do that. “All right.” I’d get the work done somehow. “I’ll stay.”

  *

  I sat in the boardroom, headphones blocking out all outside noise. My fingers raced over the keyboard as I transcribed as fast as I could. I was days behind at this point, and there was nothing I could do to make myself go faster.

  A hand waved in front of the screen, slim and long-fingered, with no rings. I looked up to see Katie, her mouth forming the shape of a “hey.”

  I slid my headphones off, equal parts irritated and curious. “What’s up?”

  “I just thought I’d see what you’re up to. I needed a break from the set.” She slid into a chair, putting her feet up on the table. Her khaki pants hugged her long legs in a way that made it hard to look away.

  “I’m in the middle of something,” I said, hovering my fingers over the keyboard. “Sorry I can’t keep you company.”

  “What are you doing?” She poked her head over my shoulder, and I caught a waft of her perfume. “Looks pretty official.”

  “I’m a court transcriber. I’m transcribing some divorce proceedings at the moment.” I turned the screen toward her so she could see. “I think she’s going to get away with half his assets, if not more.”

  “Sounds fascinating.” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms under her breasts. “Why don’t you take a break with me?”

  “I kind of have to work.”

  “Why?” She looked genuinely perplexed, as if the idea of having to work for a living had never occurred to her. “Emma’s working.”

  “Sure, for now. I can’t quit my job because of that. It’s just going to be a busy couple of months.”

  “Surely
you could dial back to part-time.”

  “Not really, not if I want to go back to full-time afterwards.” There was no shortage of people qualified to do what I did. The only thing you really needed was good typing skills, and if I let my workload slip, someone else would snatch it up.

  “It’s not really just a couple months, though, is it?” Katie asked.

  “The season is four and a half.”

  “I know.” She frowned. “I mean, Emma will keep acting after. She has to.”

  I swallowed. “Do you think she’s that good?” As her parent, I wanted to believe she was, but that was a biased opinion.

  “Are you serious?” Katie tilted her head. “She’s excellent. Things like her pacing and the way she delivers lines can’t be taught. She has natural talent. Even if she’s not on the next season, she’ll be able to find work afterward—as long as she wants to.”

  “I think she would,” I mused out loud. “She’s been enjoying this so far. I just—I didn’t know if she was average or what, you know?”

  “Wow… I didn’t realize you didn’t know.” Katie set her elbows on the table. “What we’re doing here now is something special. This show is going to be good, Sarah, and that’s partly because of Emma.”

  “Special?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were Emmy nominations.” She stretched and stood up. “So think about maybe not working yourself to the bone, okay?”

  I swallowed again, my throat suddenly dry. “All I want is a good life for Emma.”

  “Don’t forget about letting Sarah have a good life, too.”

  Eight – Katie

  The fifth week of shooting was a wrap. Once I got home, I collapsed on my bed. My house, a two-bedroom not far from the Pacific Palisades, was quiet, which was just what I needed after the headache of this week.

  After lying there for a few minutes, the house began to feel too quiet. “Alexa, play some ambient music,” I said. The speakers on each side of my bed piped slow instrumental music into the air—Aphex Twin, if I was to hazard a guess.