Blindsided

by Karis Walsh

  Richard was more capable of breaking away from their parents’ expectations than Cara. She sometimes wondered what had been so different between them, but she suspected she cared more about their approval—and disapproval—than he did.

  “I considered being a playwright,” Lenae said. “But journalism was more my style. Always new, often a crisis. Thinking and learning about each story quickly enough to get it written while it was still relevant was a challenge I loved. But I still feel I have a play inside me, trying to get out. Hopefully, not like Alien.”

  Cara groaned at the image. “With your sense of spatial relations, I’ll bet you’d be able to use settings to full advantage. Sounds, pauses, space. Too many poor playwrights don’t pay attention to elements beyond the visual.” Cara paused. She knew Lenae wasn’t angling for an easy route into the theater world, but her past experiences had left her too jaded not to wonder. Still, she couldn’t resist offering Lenae anything she might want. “I’m sure my brother would be willing to talk over some of your ideas, or maybe help you get a play produced somewhere.”

  Lenae laughed. “I’m sure he has nothing better to do.” She squeezed Cara’s hand, and Cara felt her tension shatter and blow away. “I appreciate the generous offer of his time, but I haven’t written anything yet. First I need to make the center a success, and then possibly I’ll do some writing in my spare time. I have connections of my own, too, you know. What about you and the stage? You said you used to perform plays, but have you done Shakespeare or O’Neill? Or did you switch to reporting after your parents took the fun out of your impromptu plays?”

  “I was advertising detergent and baby food before I could walk, and anytime there was a walk-on part or role for a child, my parents had me in the audition line. I knew my way around a stage, and my teachers in school knew it. I was cast as the lead in school plays even when I didn’t audition. I actually liked acting, but I didn’t have the same skills my brother did, so by high school I was being groomed to follow in Dad’s footsteps and be a news reporter. Doing poorly in any acting role—even a junior high production of Up the Down Staircase—was unacceptable to them, so they made me turn down school productions when I wasn’t showing enough promise. During college I did a show similar to Around the Sound and loved interviewing people and drawing out their stories. I found my niche, I guess. I was better at that than character work. I’m best at playing myself.”

  “A version of yourself,” Lenae said without thinking. She didn’t filter her words because she was too focused on the ridiculous notion of dissuading a girl from a hobby she loved just because she might not be a gifted star.

  Cara was silent for a moment as they sped along the freeway toward Seattle. “Most people can’t tell the difference,” she said. “And to be honest, I’m not always certain which is the real me.”

  “You’re not?” Lenae asked in surprise. “I wouldn’t have any trouble distinguishing you from your on-air persona. I’ll bet if I heard you say a single sentence, both in front of a camera and just in conversation, I’d be able to tell when you were being filmed.”

  “How?”

  Lenae thought about Cara’s question, replaying Cara’s voice in her mind. “It’s more to do with energy than with anything else. When you’re being a television reporter, your energy moves outward, toward other people. It draws them to you and might be why your show is so successful at bringing in donations and volunteers. You include other people, and your shimmering qualities rub off on them. When you’re talking one-on-one, your energy moves inward, as if you’re storing up what you experience and feel, pulling it deep inside. You’re still the same person, and I like both of you.”

  Cara paused again. “Sometimes you describe things in ways I’ve never even considered. I always thought I was being phony on television—even when I truly cared about the topics—because I could keep my voice and body so controlled. I saw it as a shortcoming, a flaw in my character.”

  Lenae shook her head. “It’s a gift.”

  “Thank you,” Cara said finally. Simply.

  “For what?” Lenae asked, still drawing circles on Cara’s delicate wrist.

  “For what you notice in me. For taking the time to feel and understand me.” Cara lifted Lenae’s hand and kissed her palm. “Now on to a less personal, but no less vital topic, dog whisperer. How the hell can I keep a puppy like Pickwick calm for an entire play?”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Cara described the set to Lenae in a low voice once the curtain went up, and then she retreated to her private world. She heard Lenae and the rest of the audience responding to the words with gasps or short bursts of laughter, and she forced her attention onto her brother when he was onstage so she’d be able to discuss his performance when she saw him later. But, like Lenae had said about her energy moving inward, Cara was taking Lenae’s comments about her and studying them in private.

  She had never thought of the change in herself the way Lenae had described. She had thought of herself as superficial, as if putting on an act in front of the camera. But she had to at least consider this different way of viewing herself. When she filmed her show or when she taught classes or documented Pickwick’s progress, she really was projecting something. She wanted to reach people in her audience, to share with them something she found important. When she talked to people without the cameras or audience present, she never trusted them to see her—or that there was anything for them to see—so she held part of herself back. Apart. Somehow Lenae had gotten past her barriers, past the walls she had built that were more impenetrable than the camera lens.

  Pickwick slept with his head resting on her foot, and she almost dozed off as well. Richard was commanding and powerful as General Ezra Mannon, and the play was a favorite of Cara’s as well, but she was too caught in her internal world to fully take part in the production. Intermission caught her by surprise. She blinked in the lights and let go of Lenae’s hand to clap while the curtain dropped. “Do you like it so far?” she asked as they stood up and filed out of the box with Baxter in the lead. Maybe Lenae could give her some words to use when Cara was grilled about the play by her parents and Richard. Otherwise, she’d just have to make up some praise based on past productions.

  “I do, very much. I knew your brother had talent, but I didn’t realize how much. He really becomes the characters he’s playing, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s a natural. He used to read to me when I was little, and he’d change with every character in every book. He made stories come alive for me.”

  Cara saw the crowd of people below them when they reached the staircase leading down to the lobby, and she felt Lenae’s hesitation as the throbbing sound of numerous conversations floated up to them. Baxter was close to her side.

  “Why don’t you stay up here with the dogs?” Cara took Lenae’s arm and led her to a bench. “I can get us a couple of glasses of champagne without worrying about Pickwick getting his paws stepped on.”

  “Baxter and I will be happy to puppy-sit. He’s not fond of crowds, either.”

  Lenae leaned back against the leather seat and Pickwick sat pressed against her leg. She could feel his head turning back and forth as people walked by. She replayed parts of the scenes in her mind, studying the way Richard had interpreted Ezra. She had heard the play a few times before, but he had brought out nuances and shades of tone she hadn’t experienced. But even as she admired his skill, she ached for young Cara who hadn’t shown the same talents as her precocious older brother. The image of Cara’s ashtray, the way she’d been discouraged from acting if she wasn’t bound to be a star—the things Lenae had learned about Cara’s childhood ran through her mind, with the background music of Cara singing karaoke with abandon and little concern for the actual notes of the tune. Lenae smiled at the memory of their karaoke night, feeling her face heat as she remembered what had happened after they got back to the hotel, and she started in surprise when a deep voice addressed her.

  “You must b
e Lenae McIntyre.”

  “What gave me away?” Lenae asked, hoping to cover her embarrassment with a wide smile. “And I recognize your voice. Howard Bradley.”

  “Pleasure to meet you. May I sit?”

  Lenae moved to one side of the bench and Cara’s dad sat next to her. He had a presence that was as big and resonant as his voice.

  “I saw you and Cara on the morning show last week. You were quite captivating.”

  “Thank you, but Cara is the on-air talent. I enjoyed doing the show more than I expected, but I’m much happier behind the scenes.”

  “Cara is a natural. She’s a Bradley through and through.”

  Lenae wondered if it was true. Cara had qualities in common with her famous family, but did she want the same things? What would Howard have said if he had heard his daughter singing off-key in public? Would he have been so quick to claim her as a Bradley, or would he have left the bar?

  Howard leaned closer and lowered his voice. He still had the projection needed to broadcast a whisper to a full house. “I know she wanted to break the news to you herself, but I’m such a proud papa that I can’t help myself. The producers of Morning Across America were so impressed with Cara that they’ve offered her a position as host of the show.”

  Lenae forced herself to keep completely still and not move away from Howard. “I heard rumors about that when we were in New York. It’s no surprise they’d want her there—her kind of talent would be an asset to any show.”

  “Good, I’m glad you agree. Let’s be honest here. Cara has a promising career ahead of her, and I don’t want anything to stand in her way. That includes the pretty guide-dog trainer with whom she’s currently enamored.”

  Lenae frowned at his words. Was he implying she would be capable of holding Cara back, if she really wanted to take the new job?

  “Um, no…I mean, yes, I agree. I’d never want to stand in the way of something Cara really wanted.”

  “What a relief to hear you say that.” Howard exhaled, and Lenae felt him lean back and drape his arm over the back of the bench. “I was worried you’d hold her to this puppy-walking obligation. I know she promised you a year, but the whole point of the project was to get her noticed by the right people, so there’s no sense in her continuing the local news spot when she has a chance to go national.”

  Lenae forced her body to remain relaxed even as her thoughts tumbled over each other. Howard wasn’t worried about her relationship with Cara being enough to keep her from New York. He was only trying to find a way to get Cara out of her year commitment to the center. Apparently, it wasn’t conceivable to him that either Lenae or Pickwick would be able to hold Cara down when she was ready to soar.

  “Cara hasn’t spoken to me about this yet,” she said, her voice cold, as if this news meant nothing to her. “But if she needed to move to New York, I’d take Pickwick back and find another puppy walker for him.”

  “Good to hear.” Howard patted her knee and stood up. “Because once she accepts, she’ll be starting the new show in two weeks.”

  “She already accepted?” Lenae couldn’t believe Cara would take a job—especially one that meant she’d have to give up Pickwick—without telling her. Or didn’t she mean enough to Cara?

  “Not that I know of, but how could she refuse? She’ll be doing the types of interviews she loves, showcasing people who are working to make the world a better place. She’ll be able to reach and influence thousands more people than she could with her little show. You know how much that means to her.” He paused. “I’m glad to hear that you don’t want to hold her back from fulfilling her potential.”

  “Never,” Lenae said emphatically, the emotion she’d been holding back spilling into her voice. Howard Bradley was right. Cara deserved this opportunity not only for herself but to show her family she was more than a rejected ashtray.

  “I hope you enjoy the rest of the play, Ms. McIntyre.”

  *

  Cara stood in line at the concession stand and watched Lenae on the balcony. She saw her dad approach Lenae and the dogs, and she started to walk back toward the staircase. She wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but the last time he had spoken to Lenae, over the phone, he had managed to irritate her and make Cara look like one of the relentless starlets she had used to date. Her mother stopped her with an iron grip on her elbow before she was able to walk away.

  “Your friend is quite attractive,” Lydia said, following Cara’s gaze to the balcony. “Even prettier in person than on camera, though. That’s a shame.”

  “She’s beautiful either way,” Cara said after a pause while Lydia signed an autograph for a young woman. Public conversations with her mother were always broken up by photo ops and frantic searches for pen and paper.

  “An interesting dalliance for you, I suppose, but hardly the type of woman with whom you’ll want to form a lasting connection.”

  “You don’t know me, Mother,” Cara said as she inched forward in line. She looked up at Lenae and saw her father rest his arm along the seat back in his carefully orchestrated relaxed pose. His showmanship would be lost on someone like Lenae, whether or not she was able to see it. She’d see right through it. “Maybe Lenae is exactly the kind of woman I’ve been searching for all my life.”

  Lydia gave a derisive laugh. “A dog walker? Really, Cara, think about your future. Your father and I can only do so much for your career. At some point you have to take responsibility for yourself.”

  “She’s a dog trainer. And I take responsibility for everything in my life. Pickwick, my students, my show. They’re what matter to me. And Lenae does, too.”

  “Honestly, Cara, I don’t understand what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. If you want to get ahead in this business, you need to surround yourself with people who will propel you forward, not drag you back. If she were still with Three-N, or if she had some salvageable connections, maybe I could see it…”

  “Maybe I don’t want to get ahead. At least not the way you expect from me—”

  “Shh, darling…” Lydia turned to greet another fan. “Of course I’d love to sign your program. Are you enjoying my son’s show? He always brings a tear to my eye when I see him on-stage, but I guess that’s because I’m a sentimental mother at heart.”

  Cara rolled her eyes like a petulant child and ordered two glasses of champagne. She needed to get away from Lydia and rescue Lenae from Howard.

  “Thanks for the advice, Mom,” she said when the fan left. “But I think I know who’s best for me, not just for my career.”

  “Unlikely, if I look at the choices you’ve made so far. Have your fling with the dog groomer, but be ready to leave her behind. You’ll meet plenty of interesting women who will not only be potential lovers but will bring the right connections along with them.”

  Cara picked up the flutes and walked away without another word, not even bothering to correct her mother’s obviously intentional denigration of Lenae’s career. She walked up the steps to Lenae as quickly as she could without spilling their champagne. Her dad had already left.

  Pickwick let out an excited yip when Cara returned, but her smile at his enthusiastic response faltered when she saw the expression on Lenae’s face. Lenae accepted the glass Cara handed her.

  “Sorry, I was waylaid by my mom. And I saw you had the dubious good fortune of being entertained by my dad while I was gone.”

  “Yes, dubious,” Lenae said. Cara sat close enough beside her to feel the tension rippling through Lenae’s body. “He said you were offered a job with the morning show.”

  “Oh, well…yes, I was. I was going to tell you, but…I’m sorry he said something before I did.” She had wanted to be with Lenae tonight. The job offer had nothing to do with the two of them, and she hadn’t found a good time to bring it up. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up, ever.

  “So am I,” Lenae said, her voice sounding distant and empty. She shifted slightly away. “You’ll need to give Pickwick back
to the center. Our puppies have to stay in the area.”

  “I never said I was taking the job,” Cara said. Her voice sounded cold and unfamiliar to her own ears. Not like her on-air persona or her normal self, but someone empty. “I have so much to consider. Pickwick and my teaching job. My show. Us.” How could Lenae think she’d leave?

  “It’d be a shame to give up this opportunity.” Lenae echoed Howard’s words. “I know how important it is for you to use your talent to promote places like my center. If you have the chance to do this on a national level, I think you should take it.”

  Cara took a sip of her champagne, willing herself not to cry. “Well, then, maybe I will.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Cara sat in a darkened room in the communications building, splicing together clips from family home movies, television commercials, and still photos of her home and relatives. Each of her students was creating a personal biography exploring the roots of their cultural and personal values, and Cara needed to walk them through the editing process with her own segment. She wanted to delete some of the footage, and she still wasn’t convinced she’d let her own life story be included in the final class project, to be publicly screened, but she wanted to face her past and her roots with as much honesty as she could muster. She watched scene after scene from her life, mentally picking and choosing among the images while physically sitting on her hands whenever she was tempted to leave out episodes she found too revealing or personal. She expected her class to approach this final project with integrity and vulnerability, and she had to do the same. Years of careful control in front of the camera were hard to break, however, and she had a difficult time resisting the need to manage the images she would be projecting on screen.

  Cara watched some of her favorite segments of Around the Sound. She’d filmed artists and musicians who were spreading messages of hope, Tess and her efforts to raise awareness of the local marine life, wildlife sanctuaries, and animal rescue groups. And Lenae. Cara replayed the raw footage from the center and listened to her own words as she subtly criticized the people who volunteered as puppy walkers. She finally heard what she had really been saying about the coldness of her own family and about her inability to truly believe that people really existed who lived with love as their overarching value. She looked down at Pickwick, lying at her feet and chewing on an old cassette tape. She’d almost missed out on having him in her life, and having Lenae in her life, because of the beliefs she’d developed as a child.