Chloe Sparrow

by Lesley Crewe

  One of the makeup girls produces a roll of tape and the three of them jump back in the limo before it speeds away. I can only imagine the scene that’s unfolding at the end of the driveway. When I look behind me, the guys are smirking behind their hands.

  “Oh, grow up. You’ve never seen nipples before?”

  “Not quite like that,” Austin says.

  “You’re pitiful. Pull yourselves together. We have to do this twenty-four times tonight, and I want this to be the best damn introduction ceremony on television.”

  Austin nods. “Yes, boss.”

  Amanda jogs up the driveway again. “Jesus, why am I doing all the running? I’m going to have a heart attack.”

  “Have you got it under control?”

  “Forty nipples are being held hostage as we speak.” She vanishes behind the rubber plant. We start again. When Sydney gets out of the limo and approaches Austin, we stare at her boobs. All is well.

  The crew and I lay bets on which girl will light up Austin’s face the most. As I predicted, Jocelyn is the favourite, but he likes Lizette the race-car driver too. Amanda thinks Kate P. has a chance. Mysti’s all over him like a bad rash, and Tracy and Sydney do nothing but giggle. One of the twins—Holly, I think—says ditto a lot. Nerves, probably. Most of the others don’t seem to get a huge reaction. Except for Rebecca, who says she has tattoos all over her body.

  “Who says that to a man they just met?”

  Amanda grunts. “I bet half of them would strip naked if they thought they’d get away with it.”

  By eleven that night, we’ve taped Trey talking to Austin, Austin talking to the girls, the girls talking to each other…no, the girls talking about each other. It’s amazing how quickly it happens. Already alliances are brewing, and more than half of them seem upset with the other half.

  Everyone’s exhausted. I’m worried that I was wrong about the schedule but push on, despite Trey’s dramatic sighs. The last thing to do is the charm ceremony. Each of the ladies receives a charm bracelet at the start of the shoot and if Austin wants to keep them, he’ll present them with a charm. Then, when they go on group dates, he’ll give one girl a charm before the ceremony so she’s safe for another week. Honestly, who makes up this stuff?

  I’m not surprised when Austin picks Jocelyn first. He dismisses a girl who hasn’t opened her mouth (Jennifer H.) and one who wouldn’t shut up (Sandy D.). My lead cameraman, Brian, and I crawl into the limousine to film each girl separately. It’s only fair to give them the last word.

  Jennifer H. wipes her eyes with a tissue I hand her. “I don’t know why he didn’t want me. I thought he was the one, you know? I quit my job to come here. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t get a man.”

  Okay, this is way too painful. “There’s not a thing wrong with you. This is just a television show. I’m sure there are lots of men out there who would love to date you. Isn’t that right, Brian?”

  Brian, the coward, refuses to show his face from behind the camera. “Sure.”

  She looks at him, or at least tries to. “Are you married?”

  Sandy D. is pissed. “Who the hell does he think he is? He can’t see awesome when it’s staring him in the face? All those bitches hanging off him and I’m in the limo? He can go fuck himself.”

  Obviously we’ll bleep that bit out.

  Finally, thank God, it’s a wrap, and we leave the mansion to the giddy ladies and the security guards. I sent Amanda home a long time ago. A group of us go back to the guest house, and some of the guys break out the beer to unwind before bed.

  Austin takes off his tie and sits on a stool. “So, how do you think it went?”

  “They’re all in love with you, so keep it up.”

  When the guys laugh, I feel my ears get hot. Austin dismisses them with his hand. “Don’t mind these idiots.”

  “I won’t. Good night.”

  The weariness is bone deep as I drag my carcass up the stairs to my room. The only way I ever seem to go to bed is to fall from a great height like a skydiver and stay splayed like that for the entire night. My face goes unwashed, my teeth go un-brushed, and my body is clothed. Talk about pathetic.

  There’s a sound that keeps interfering with the wine-tasting session I’m having with Ryan Gosling. He says, “Are you going to answer that?”

  When I drag my eyes open, my cell is lit up like a Christmas tree. Holy shit, it’s three in the morning. Adrenalin courses through my body and levitates me off the bed, even as I answer the phone. “What’s wrong?”

  It’s Aunt Ollie. “The kittens are coming! Should I boil water?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be right there!”

  There are advantages to being dressed in the middle of the night. I grab my purse, run down the hall, and knock on Austin’s door. “Austin! Austin!” The stupid man keeps snoring, so I open the door, rush to the bed, and hold his nostrils with my fingers. Eventually, he springs up in bed, gasping.

  “The kittens are coming!”

  “What?!”

  “The kittens! Can you drive me to my house?”

  He looks around. “Did you just try to smother me?”

  “No! Yes! Where are your car keys?”

  “If the kittens are coming, then Norton obviously has everything under control.”

  “But they might die and I won’t be there!”

  “You are a lunatic. Get out while I get dressed.”

  I hyperventilate in the hallway until he shows up. I try to rush him along, but he looks grumpy. I get to his car first. Unfortunately, in my haste I keep pulling the door handle before he has a chance to unlock it.

  “Get your fingers off that handle, and while you’re at it, my face.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Once we get the doors open and put on our seat belts, he starts the car.

  “You have to hurry.”

  He turns around to face me. “Hurry where?”

  “Cabbagetown. I’ll show you.”

  We drive through the dark streets. I try to think of something to say. “There’s not much traffic, so that’s good.”

  “That’s because most people are in bed.”

  “Thank you for this.”

  “Did I have a choice?”

  “But this is life and death. It means everything to me.”

  “Life and death means everything to most of us.”

  “I can’t breathe.” I roll down the window and stick my head out like a dog.

  “As a medical person, I can safely say you’re not having contractions.”

  “I’m having sympathy pain.”

  “You’re having a panic attack.”

  “God, is that bad?”

  “No. I’m about to have one too.”

  We make it to Aunt Ollie’s in twenty minutes. I don’t wait for Austin to park before I’m out the door and running up the porch steps. “I’m here!”

  “There are two of them,” Gramps says from the threshold.

  Aunt Ollie shouts from her bedroom, “She’s struggling, what should I do?”

  “Austin!” I scream before I realize he’s behind me. I grab his sweater and drag him down to the hall. “I brought Norton’s vet with me.”

  “You went to the poor bastard’s house and hauled him out of bed?”

  “She did, can you believe it?”

  “Get in here!” Aunt Ollie hollers.

  Austin goes in ahead of us. My aunt’s hairnet is askew and her curlers are sticking up on end. She points at the closet. “I woke up out of a sound sleep and there were one and then two but she’s having trouble with this one.”

  Austin kneels down in front of the lined box in the closet and I kneel by the side of the bed.

  I wish for this kitten to live
.

  “Hold on, it’s the cord.”

  I can’t watch. The silence as the seconds tick by is unbearable. And then there’s a mew.

  “Here we go.” Our hero places the kitten by the anxious mother, who starts licking her baby with purpose. Aunt Ollie and I tackle Austin while he’s still on the floor.

  “Thank you, thank you!” I give him a big kiss on his right cheek. Aunt Ollie takes care of his left. We gaze at the three little beings cuddled into their mother’s belly.

  “Will there be any more?”

  Austin examines Norton again. “That’s it. It’s better for mom when there’s not too many.”

  “This is the best gift ever.” In no time I take twenty pictures of the new family on my phone.

  “What are we going to do with three kittens?” Gramps asks.

  “Keep them, of course.”

  “You’re prepared to have four cats in your house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right now they’re in my house,” Gramps says.

  Aunt Ollie waggles her finger. “And here they stay, because this is my house too.”

  “Your name isn’t on the mortgage.”

  “Please don’t argue. Norton needs to rest.”

  “So do I,” Austin says. “It’s four in the morning.”

  “I don’t want to leave them. Please take good care of my babies, Aunt Ollie. I’ll be back as soon as I can and I’ll call you every day.”

  “Get her out of here,” Aunt Ollie yawns. “I have to go to bed.”

  Austin takes me by the shoulders and marches me out the door. We get into his car and that’s the last thing I remember.

  I’m in a dark alley, hidden behind a garbage container with my hands tied behind my back. I try to scream but I have tape over my mouth. Austin kneels beside me.

  “Don’t move or you’ll be sorry.”

  There’s a horrible rumbling noise and without warning, a stampede of nipples rush by.

  My eyes open.

  I’m on my bed in the guest house, under a blanket, with yesterday’s clothes still on my back. Oh my God, he couldn’t wake me up. What if I snored or drooled? The clock says 8:30. I was supposed to be up by six. Fifteen minutes later, I’m showered and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with a sweater wrapped around my waist. The last thing I grab is my backpack and run down the stairs. There are breakfast remnants on the table, but the only thing I can find is a banana and a container of yogurt, which I throw in my bag.

  Running through the garden, I hear the waiting bus. Amanda is hanging out of it, waving me on. “Hurry up!”

  The minute I jump on board the driver closes the door behind me. After I catch my breath I tell him, “You shouldn’t leave the bus idling. It’s not good for the environment.”

  He ignores me and pulls away from the mansion entrance at top speed. By the time I right myself and get to the top of the aisle, everyone is waiting to give me heck.

  Trey taps his watch. “We were supposed to leave a half an hour ago.”

  “I’m sorry, everyone. It won’t happen again, but last night I had three little kittens!”

  “Did they lose their mittens?” Austin shouts from the back.

  “I have pictures on my cell if anyone wants to see them.”

  No one does, which irritates the hell out of me. How many dog pictures have I looked at on people’s phones?

  “Okay then, we’re off on our first adventure today. This is a group date consisting of ten of you.”

  “Where are we going?” Jocelyn asks.

  “That’s a secret. Relax and have a good time.” I move to the back of the bus to sit near Amanda, Trey, Brian, and Austin.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up last night?”

  “Are you serious? You were out cold before we got to the end of your street. Your cheek mark is still on my window.”

  “Chloe, now that you’re a big mucky-muck producer, I wouldn’t go mooning people in a car,” Amanda says.

  “Bite me.” Which reminds me of my banana.

  An hour and a half later we pull into Niagara Falls, an iconic Canadian spot if ever there was one. We’ll showcase a lot of Canadian landscapes in the weeks ahead. We have a beautiful country, so why not show it off to the rest of the world? Everyone is excited, except for Becca.

  “Niagara Falls? I came here on a school trip in grade five. It was a bore then and it’s still a bore.”

  Amanda and I glance at each other. Charm is not Becca’s forte.

  The minute the girls get off the bus, we become a circus sideshow. The cameras attract people, who crane their necks to see if there’s anyone famous in the group. All the contestants lean over the fence, looking at the water in their shortest short-shorts, which means no one is paying attention to the magnificent falls only a few hundred feet away. The power and sound of millions of gallons of blue-green water falling over the edge of the cliff is breathtaking. The roar and energy generated is almost deafening as it drops to the bottom and into the swirling rapids below.

  “All right, everyone, we have to line up for the Maid of the Mist tour.” This is a boat that takes tourists into the mist at the bottom of the falls, so it looks as if we’re disappearing into the falls themselves. We have to wear rain gear or we’ll get soaked.

  “I’m not going down there,” Trey says. “I’ll ruin my hair. I can interview Austin up here with the falls behind him.”

  “Fine, whatever.”

  “I’m off to get a cappuccino.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see a mutiny brewing, now that the girls are putting on their big yellow raincoats and sou’westers. They’ve turned into lobster fishermen. Amanda handles the situation, so I don’t feel the need to get involved, but Becca comes looking for me.

  “Are you kidding me? I look like a rubber condom. How am I supposed to get Austin to notice me?”

  “If you’re here yapping at me, he won’t. The other girls don’t seem to mind.”

  That’s a bit of a stretch. The others look annoyed too, but good old Austin is doing his best, standing at the bow of the ship listening intently to something Emily is saying. I think he’s mesmerized by the water dripping from her hat and her nose. When Sarah C. pulls Austin away, Emily stands there with her mouth open in shock. She better close it or she’ll drown.

  Amanda eventually stomps over. “Whose stupid idea was this?”

  “Ours, don’t you remember?”

  “Shit, I hoped it was someone else.”

  Now Brian finds me. “We can’t keep the water droplets off the camera lens.”

  “This is perfect.”

  Our attention gets dragged away by a commotion on the stern of the boat. Rebecca, Becca, and Becky have stripped off their rain gear and are now dancing in the middle of the crowd. “Come on, everyone, a wet t-shirt contest!”

  My cameramen come from every direction to film this astonishing scene, no doubt for their private collections, because this isn’t making it on air. It’s a spring break video. The captain gets involved and passengers with children hurry them away. Austin makes his escape with the crowd.

  When we eventually disembark, we march the ladies up to the bus and we’re off. We can’t do interviews when most of them look like drowned rats. As we lumber out of the parking lot, I hang on to the front seats so I won’t pitch forward.

  “What you ladies get up to in the hot tub at the mansion is none of my business, but it is my business when we are out in public. You need to behave with some decorum. The last thing I need is for any of you to be arrested for lewd behaviour and public indecency.”

  Becca points her finger right at me. “There’s no need to get high and mighty with us, Miss Television Producer. You’re in charge of a show that’s about sex and trying to get into the bachelor’s pants, and not only that, you want to bro
adcast it across Canada…from sea to sea to shining sea.”

  I’m mortified, but there’s not a damn thing I can say. She’s right. I quickly fall into the seat behind the bus driver, which in retrospect wasn’t bright; if I’d been at the back I might have noticed Trey running after the bus, waving his hands in vain.

  Amanda and I have a tête-à-tête later that afternoon, going over the planned day trips. We can’t afford to screw up another one because I want to come in under budget. Amanda’s distracted by the platter of sweets on the table. Her hand hovers over the selection.

  “Maybe I’ll take a muffin instead of a doughnut.”

  “Muffins have more calories.”

  “Do they really?”

  “That gigantic one there has enough calories for the entire day.”

  When she hesitates, I grab it and stuff it in my mouth. “Mmm, this is good.”

  “I hope you get fat.”

  “I won’t. I forget to eat.”

  “I hate your guts.” She hovers once more, as if the goodies are giving off a signal she can hone in on. Austin happens by and grabs a Boston cream.

  “That was mine,” she grumbles.

  “You snooze, you lose. Did you hear from Aunt Ollie?”

  “Yes, the kittens are great.”

  “Good. So I think I’ll kick off Becca. She’s got a big mouth.”

  Amanda waggles her finger at him. “I don’t agree. Keep her around for awhile; she makes great television.”

  “You can’t tell him who he can kick off.”

  “I’m asking him to consider keeping her because she causes havoc and that’s good for ratings.”

  “You two don’t have to kiss her.”

  “You don’t have to kiss anyone if you don’t want to,” I tell him.

  “But the more he does, the better for us.”

  “So who do you like?” I ask him.

  “It’s a secret.”

  After he leaves, Amanda says, “I want you to come to supper on Sunday.”

  “Why?”

  Amanda stands up and collects her papers. “The correct response is, Thank you Amanda, I’d love to, or How sweet of you, I can’t wait.