Emily woke up with a start and tried to rise, hitting her head on the bottom of the table.
“Oh, my, what time is it?” Emily said, rubbing her eyes.
“We’re an hour from taping. The set is ready and the whole crew is here.”
“No, no, no, no, no.” Emily crawled out from under the table and wrapped a towel around herself. “Anna, why didn’t you wake me earlier?”
“I couldn’t find you! Hurry, you need to go to wardrobe. We don’t have time for a rehearsal.”
Emily stood up and faced the group of exhausted, half-sleeping, hungover women in various states of dress.
“Everyone! Wake up! We’re going live in an hour! Go get dressed! Meet me in the main lobby in half an hour for makeup! Chop-chop!” she said, clapping her hands.
Women began to move, sliding off patio chairs and coming out from under tables. It was like a zombie invasion.
Emily and Anna were about to scurry off. I grabbed Emily by the arm.
“Emily, I’m so sorry, I—”
Emily raised a hand. “Ashley. Best. Night. Ever.” She ran off and I stood there smiling.
It was showtime.
Back in the room, Kimmie was spinning around like a Tasmanian devil.
“I can’t believe we partied last night! The night before we were supposed to go on live TV in front of millions of people!” she said frantically, throwing cosmetics and outfits in every direction.
“Relax, Kimmie,” I said, removing last night’s eye makeup with a baby wipe. “Just jump in the shower and get dressed.”
Kimmie turned to face me. “I don’t just ‘jump in the shower and get dressed.’ I had my routine all planned out and I’m about six hours behind on it.”
She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.
I’d planned to shower, but what was another day without one? Anyway, I was pretty sure I’d been in the hot tub at some point, which was as good as a shower.
My stomach fluttered. Tonight I’d see Aubrey and David. Hopefully he’d settled down a bit and wasn’t still so angry with me.
I looked in the vanity mirror. The area under my eyes was streaked with dark makeup, my complexion was blotchy and my hair was a knotted mess, but I couldn’t help but smile. I’d had fun. For the first time in a very long time, I’d had carefree fun. I hadn’t even drunk that much, just gotten carried away with a group of women who were all having their first fun night in ages. I laughed as the night came back to me. I’m pretty sure Lorenzo brought out organic lychee Jell-O shots at one point, and Emily did a cannonball in the pool.
I wiped the rest of my makeup from my face and brushed out my hair.
Time to change. Thankfully, I’d already planned my outfit. I stood up and pulled a hanger out of the closet. The producers of The Emily Walker Show had emailed guidelines for what not to wear, which included blue (in case they used a blue screen), complicated patterns and wild colors. They hadn’t said no to yoga pants and XXL T-shirts, but I assumed they were also discouraged.
I quickly changed into a slimming heather-gray skirt suit. I had plenty of these from my office days, but none of those fit, so I’d had to buy one the day before we took off. I knew we didn’t have the money for new clothes but I considered it the last little splurge before we tightened up, and how often would I be on national TV? This moment would be frozen in history; I wanted to at least look pulled together.
I could still hear the shower running when I left the room. Kimmie was probably in there pumping her face full of a chemical cocktail.
* * *
The set was larger than life.
Large cameras and microphones on robotic arms, wires everywhere, men and women wearing all black hustling to and fro and staring at large monitors. How they’d managed to turn the room where we’d had brunch just two days prior into a real live set, I’d never know.
I tried to take it all in. At the front of the room were three large couches and Emily Walker’s signature pink armchair. I presumed that was where we’d be sitting. My stomach flipped. I was going to be on live television. What if I threw up?
“Are you looking for makeup?” a college-aged man in thick horn-rimmed glasses asked me.
“Yes,” I said, trying not to appear as flustered as I was.
“Right this way,” he said, leading me through a tangle of thick black cords. As we made our way through the equipment jungle, I realized that today was the day. The winner of the Motherhood Better Bootcamp was going to be announced.
Before I knew it, we were in a corner of the room with several tall stools and women being painted by a crew of artists.
“Take a seat,” a man with hair down to his lower back said to me, and I did.
I shifted. “I’m hoping for a natural look, I don’t wear a lot of...”
He lifted his finger to his lips. “Shh. Fabio will take care of you.”
I closed my eyes. I could feel him pressing a foam applicator to my face, then an eye pencil, lip liner, some type of tickly brush. I flinched as he tweezed my brows. After ten minutes I heard his voice.
“All done.”
I opened my eyes, and saw him holding a round hand mirror to my face.
I took it and, with feelings of trepidation running through my veins, looked in.
I didn’t recognize myself. I looked like me, but richer. Better. Beautiful. He’d used the contouring method I’d seen on several online videos and had tried once to emulate, which resulted in tiger stripes up and down my face.
I marveled at my reflection.
“Good, right?” Fabio said, grinning.
“Not good. Amazing. Thank you!”
“Ten minutes until we’re live!” yelled a stagehand.
Out of nowhere, Kimmie ran into me. She was fully dressed in a stunning navy blue minidress and sky-high white heels. Her hair and makeup made her look like a Miss America contestant.
“Kimmie! When did you get your makeup done?” I didn’t recall seeing her being made up.
She flipped her layered, bouncy hair. “I had my own makeup and hair team scheduled to meet me in the room. We barely had enough time.”
Emily Walker appeared in the center of the room. She looked flawless in a pink blazer, white skirt and pink heels. A hush fell over everyone.
“Hello, everyone! I know we had a...special night, but I’m so proud of all of you for making it here on time! This is the moment you’ve all been waiting for. In a few minutes, we’ll be live on television to crown the Motherhood Better Bootcamp champion!”
Everyone cheered.
“And then we’ll have breakfast.”
A wave of nausea ran over me. I heard a woman say, “No, thanks.”
I grabbed a bottle of water from a nearby basket.
“Five minutes until we’re live!”
A man popped up next to me. “Ashley? Let’s get you miked up,” he said, affixing a microphone to the top collar of my blouse.
Kimmie grabbed my hand. “Are you ready?”
“Are you nervous, Kimmie?” I asked, teasing.
She took her hand back. “Absolutely not,” she said, smiling sheepishly.
As a group, the women and I made our way up to the stage. Assistants directed us to specific seats. I was just one contestant away from Emily.
Emily sat down in her armchair with a handful of notes.
“Okay, everybody. We didn’t have time for a rehearsal, so just act natural, answer the questions and don’t be nervous.”
Easy for her to say. She’d done this before!
I squirmed under the bright lights. This was the moment the last six weeks had been leading up to. I was a little sad it was all coming to an end, but excited, too. I knew my journey hadn’t been as perfect as the others’, but I stil
l had a shot, right?
“Thirty seconds until we’re live!” a woman shouted and I felt my stomach flip-flop again. “Don’t throw up,” I willed my body.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four...” A man next to the largest camera motioned to Emily.
I felt a hot flash run through my body. This was happening.
Emily beamed her million-dollar smile at the camera. “Good morning, and welcome to The Emily Walker Show!”
A camera on a long metal arm panned over the three couches. I tried to smile naturally and not like I was being held hostage.
Emily went on. “As you know, this is the grand finale of the Motherhood Better Bootcamp! The moms you see before you spent the last six weeks being mentored by me on how to become the women they’ve always known they could be. I’d like to introduce you to these women.”
Emily went down the line and, as the camera panned across the couches, introduced us by name. I was petrified. Millions of people were staring at us now. By the time she got to me, I was just doing my best not to visibly shake.
“Ashley Keller, mom of ten-month-old Aubrey!” I heard Emily’s voice say. I stared like a deer in headlights at a large camera with a flashing red dot indicator. Smile, Ashley, smile, I heard my brain saying, and I managed a nervous grimace.
I could already see the Twitter hashtag. #WhatsWrongWithAshley. It’d be trending before the day was over.
Emily leaned into the camera and smiled her perfect smile. “I’m SO proud of these incredible women! They’ve changed themselves, their homes and their communities in huge ways. Before I announce the grand prize winner, I have a little surprise for them.”
A large, flat LCD screen was wheeled in by an assistant. The women began to murmur curiously. What was going on?
Emily stood next to the screen with a remote in hand. “Ladies, you’re not the only ones proud of how far you’ve come. We have a little secret. We spoke to those who know you best and asked them to share their thoughts.”
Emily pointed the remote at the screen and pushed a button.
The EW logo swirled across the screen in pink and white. Suddenly, a man in his forties with toddler twin girls in his lap was sitting on a couch in a modest living room. “Lillian has always inspired me to be better.” Lillian covered her mouth and began to tear up.
“Watching her pour herself into this challenge just reminded me of how strong she truly is. I love you, Lil.”
Lillian began to sob. “We wuv you, Mommy!” the girls said in unison. I noticed Kimmie quickly wipe a runaway tear from her cheek.
One by one, the women soaked up praise from their spouses and children. I wasn’t surprised when a well-dressed man in designer glasses, sitting in what looked like a lavish mansion, turned out to be Kimmie’s husband. “You’re a winner, babe!” he said, winking.
Kimmie beamed and winked back at the screen. I coughed into my hand to hide my giggle.
When I looked back at the screen, there were David and Aubrey, sitting in our living room. They were on our old couch, which meant this was taped weeks ago. My breath caught in my throat. I missed that living room. I missed my life before I messed everything up and tried to become someone I’m not. I missed my family.
“Ashley is the most incredible, loving woman I know. She’s an amazing mother and blows me away every day with her dedication to our daughter. If she didn’t change a thing, she’d still be perfect. Perfect for us.”
I felt a sob rise in my throat and, despite my best efforts, was in full ugly cry mode in less than five seconds. I couldn’t stop. Sob after chest-racking sob consumed me. I had no idea David saw me like that.
A blurry woman handed me a box of tissues. It was Emily Walker, she was standing by my side.
“Beautiful, weren’t they?” She spoke into the camera, with one hand on my shoulder. I blew into my tissue. The hashtag had probably changed to #GetAshleySomeHelp.
Emily continued. “When we get back from commercial, I’ll announce the winner of the Motherhood Better Bootcamp challenge, live, right here on The Emily Walker Show. You won’t want to miss it.”
“Commercial!” someone yelled, and a flurry of makeup artists descended on the stage.
“Good emotion, Ashley!” Emily said, giving me a thumbs-up as someone dabbed at her eyelids.
I smiled weakly.
Kimmie touched my hand. “Are you going to be alright?”
I blew my nose again. “Yeah, I just...” I trailed off.
Kimmie waved the air in front of her. “No need to explain. When Max said, ‘You’re a winner, babe,’ I would have lost it, too, but I remembered that we’re on camera.”
Kimmie side hugged me. I could tell she was trying to be sweet.
A makeup artist approached me. “Would you like me to, um...?”
“Yes. Yes, please,” I said, bunching up my tissues.
A few moments later, besides slightly red eyes, I was TV ready.
“Twenty seconds!” someone yelled.
Anna appeared to my right.
“Ashley, we need you to move to the first couch.”
“What?” My hands began shaking. I was moving closer to Emily? This had to be good!
I swapped seats with another mom and wound up right next to Emily Walker.
“Doing alright, Ashley?” she asked between powder poofs from the makeup crew.
“Absolutely,” I said, still a little embarrassed.
Emily smiled kindly.
“We’re back in five, four, three...” a man’s voice boomed. The crew vanished as quickly as they’d arrived.
Emily flashed her pearly whites at the camera. “We’re back live with the Motherhood Better Bootcamp contestants, ready to announce the winner of the $100,000 grand prize! Are you ready?”
Several of the women grabbed the hands of the people on either side of them. I wrung mine together and tried not to barf all over our host.
“The winner...of Motherhood Better Bootcamp is....”
I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was going to pass out. Just say it! I thought. Every second felt like an hour.
“Fiona Martin!” I heard the name being said and felt my heart shatter. I knew my chances were slim, but until that moment, hadn’t let hope die.
Fiona, the mom of three who made hats for premature babies in NICU burst into tears. She and Emily stood and the two hugged before Fiona was presented with a huge check.
I forced myself to smile and clap politely. Glancing over at Kimmie, I saw that her smile was tight and her eyes narrowed. I stifled a laugh.
“Stay with us after the break!” Emily said.
“Commercial!” the voice boomed.
Emily turned to face all of us. “I’d like to formally present the winner of Motherhood Better Bootcamp, Fiona Martin!” Once again, everyone clapped. Fiona was beside herself. Large tears streamed down her cheeks and a trickle of snot was threatening to make its way down her lip.
“You guys are all winners to me,” Emily continued. “Which is why I’m giving you all the Emily Walker Home set, absolutely free. If you paid for it, you’ll be reimbursed. I’m also treating you to a spa day in your city. I have loved getting to know each and every one of you, and I’m going to miss you terribly. Please stay in touch!”
With that, everyone rose and crowded around Emily for a group hug. I didn’t even know who I was squeezing as I embraced my new sisters. I may not have won the grand prize, but I in no way felt like a loser.
“We’re back in two minutes!” a voice yelled again.
“Okay, Anna will take you to breakfast! We have gift bags for everyone! Thank you, ladies!” Emily said, waving frantically.
I couldn’t believe it was all over. I didn’t want to go home to my real life where I’d be moving in wit
h my mother-in-law, be friendless yet again and have to face my husband. I wanted to stay here in TV world.
I found my bag and began making my way over to the exit to have one last meal at the Emily Walker estate when Anna stopped me.
“You’re not done. Emily needs you for the next segment.”
“Next segment?” I repeated, confused.
“Follow me.” Anna led me back toward the set where the couches had been replaced by another pink armchair facing Emily’s.
I took the seat. Emily took hers and winked at me. What was going on?
“Five, four, three, two...!” the voice yelled.
“Hello, viewers! You just saw me announce the winner of the Motherhood Better Bootcamp, but I wanted to introduce you to one very special contestant, Ashley Keller.”
I tried my best not to appear as confused as I was.
I managed a weak wave.
“Ashley,” Emily said, placing her hand on mine. “If you watch The Emily Walker Show, and I know you do, you know that every so often, we honor a mom who takes a stand for what she believes in. Today, you are that mom. Please watch the footage.”
The room went dark, and behind us, a screen began to play a shaky video of the inside of an airplane. It looked oddly familiar.
A woman with crazy hair—me—was standing up and yelling. “Why don’t you have the decency to let this mother tend to her baby in peace!” It was me! On the plane! Defending the mom!
At the end of my rambling speech the lights went back on.
“Someone filmed it?” I managed to sputter.
“Yes, Ashley. Not only did someone film your courageous act, they uploaded it to MyTube. The video of you standing up for a mom being poorly treated received 600,000 views in less than twenty-four hours. Now it’s up to 1.5 million!”
“WHAT?” I yelled, forgetting I was on live television. Emily laughed.
“It’s not easy being a mom today,” she said. “There are so many expectations. You not only helped this one mom feel accepted in the world, but you helped all moms feel less alone when they watched that video.”
I felt hot tears stream down my cheeks.
“For that, we’d like to present you with the Emily Walker Hero award and a check for $10,000.”
Confessions of a Domestic Failure Page 26