“I don’t think I’ve been in here.” Cassidy took the last step up into the cozy trailer. She eyed a refrigerator and Formica-topped folding table. Brenna’s “home away from home” was littered with photographs and books. A hand-crocheted afghan lay haphazardly over the back and arm of a small recliner. She noticed a book half-tucked under the old beige version of a script page and picked it up as Brenna disappeared into the second half of the trailer, tossing over her shoulder, “Have a seat.”
When Brenna returned, Cassidy held up the book with a questioning look. “You read this?”
Brenna laughed. “I have to know a little bit about the science of some of this stuff or I’ll never say it right.” She took the book from Cassidy’s hands and laid it aside, glancing at the star-speckled cover of Hawking’s A Brief History of Time.
“Yeah, but him? Seems a little dry. I read Feynman myself.” She offered a wry smile. “You’re right, though. We’ve got to sound somewhat convincing when we do this.”
Brenna presented her with two pairs of slippers. “Go on. Blue cotton or Bullwinkle J. Moose?” Cassidy hesitated, then reached for the brown character slippers. “I figured you for a Bullwinkle fan,” Brenna added as Cassidy dropped to the couch to place them on her feet.
“You did?” She sighed in relief as the thickly padded interior hugged her ach-
ing feet.
“I just took one look at you and said, ‘Bullwinkle.’ Though as you can see, I brought the blue ones in case I was wrong.”
“Always prepared? I find it odder that you would like Bullwinkle,” Cassidy admitted.
Brenna shrugged. “I grew up watching this earnest moose that seemed to mess everything up.”
“Though things usually came out right in the end.”
“Serendipity.” Brenna smiled.
“Or his buddy Rocky.” Cassidy chuckled. The two women fell silent for a moment.
“Oh, mmm…Here.” Brenna reached around behind the edge of the couch, just out of Cassidy’s line of sight, and withdrew a wrapped box. About twice the size of a shoe box, it was covered in paper printed with party hats in a menagerie of colors. “For Ryan.”
Taking it, Cassidy nodded and set it beside her on the couch. “I’ll give it to him tonight.”
Brenna shifted. “I can rewrap it, if…would you just tell me?” She leaned against the arm of the small stuffed chair where she sat across from Cassidy.
“What? You want me to open it? I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“I haven’t bought for that age in years, Cass.”
Cassidy hesitated at the woman’s earnest expression, surprised by the unexŹpectedly vulnerable admission and the way Brenna had shortened her name. Since she did not want to ruin the cute paper, Cassidy asked, “What is it?”
“A stuffed animal.”
She considered that. Her son did sleep with a worn stuffed crocodile.
Brenna went on with a tone that sounded abashed. “I saw it at a specialty toy shop when I was in Mount Clemens.”
“What kind of animal?”
“Well, really a…a monster.” Brenna shifted and crossed her left leg over her right and steepled her fingers together over the knee. “There’s this story…I’ve always loved it. About a boy and the monsters he meets in a land of make-believe. Maurice Sendak wrote it.”
Cassidy smiled. “I know that one. Where the Wild Things Are” she identified. “Right?”
Brenna grinned. “Yeah. This was a handmade toy modeled after the cover illusŹtration.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you’d think it appropriate. I did include a copy of the book, if you don’t already have one.”
Cassidy picked up the wrapped box and studied it. “Ryan doesn’t have it.” She set it down. “I know what I’ll be reading to him next.” She smiled at Brenna and saw the woman exhale.
“If we get out of here at a reasonable hour,” Brenna said.
“You mean midnight isn’t reasonable?” Cassidy’s gamble at making a joke paid off. Brenna tipped her head back and laughed until tears appeared in her eyes.
“Oh God. I’m sorry. You’re right. Midnight is not reasonable. So, when do you read to him?”
“I try to read to him at least twice a week. Sometimes it’s just Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Sometimes it’s after getting a lucky break here and being home around ten.”
“It is hard to have a young child and work these hours.”
“And teenagers are better? I seem to remember you saying that yours were out past curfew. The anxiety would kill me.”
“Thomas and James are generally pretty good and helpful now that Thomas also drives.”
Cassidy nodded. There did not seem to be much to add. They fell into silence, and she ran her hand over the couch cushion, tracing the simple maroon linear print, unable to avoid contemplating a nap. She even yawned. Quickly she stifled it, as she was quite sure the change in Brenna’s attitude toward her was not yet up to offering to let Cassidy nap on her couch.
Brenna suddenly moved, jerking Cassidy’s attention to her. “We had better head back.” Cassidy bent over to remove the slippers. “Keep them.”
“All right,” she accepted and stood. Collecting the wrapped present and the costume boots in her arms, she stepped back as Brenna held open the door. As she stepped into the daylight, she came close to Brenna, acutely aware of the other woman watching her pass.
Brenna waited at the bottom of the steps to Cassidy’s trailer while she dropped off the gift and slippers and put her boots back on, though Cassidy had invited her to enter. But it was together that they walked back to the soundstage.
Chapter 3
It was late Friday, near the end of their last scheduled day of shooting the seaŹson’s tenth episode, Crap Shoot. After a late dinner break watching the stars come out and eating a snack on her trailer steps, Brenna was back on the soundstage. She looked over to where Cassidy worked with Will Chapman in a concluding scene. She and Cassidy would have the next one.
The rehearsal for the scene was still fresh in her mind, practiced Wednesday morning with Cassidy after the woman had been to costuming for her shooting of two stunt scenes with the B camera team.
Previously Brenna would have only done the rehearsal with Cassidy with the other actors and the director for the regularly scheduled run-throughs. But Cassidy had approached her with an idea, and they followed through the rest of the week, consulting together on several scenes. The episode had finally come together with a fabulous amount of character development, prime among them the relationship between Chris and Susan.
In the plot, Baxley had taken advantage of Hanssen’s mixed feelings about bringing him in, building an elaborate story. When the time came to take him in, there was a firefight. Jeremy Dewitt had to shoot Baxley, who was holding Chris hosŹtage in a room filled with “normals”, their term for those living in the timeline they had intercepted. Dozens of people could have died. Chris’ fight with Susan now proved that the commander had been right. Regulations also meant that the young officer had to be reprimanded for her misjudgment.
In the end, they didn’t rewrite a single word in their four scenes together. To Brenna’s surprise, they managed to convey all of the nuance with simple body lanŹguage. All it took was simply letting herself react to Cassidy’s very mobile features letting herself see, for the first time, the skill and knowledge with which Cassidy Hyland played her character. When they had played this final scene through at the pre-shoot rehearsal, the director had been very pleased and congratulated them both on the development.
Having finally recognized Cass as a member of the Time Trails team, both on-and off-camera, it felt right to Brenna that their arguments came out with a softer edge. Cassidy’s smiles off-camera were more frequent now, and Brenna realized that the other woman also had been unhappy. While her presence could still have negaŹtive repercussions for Brenna’s career, she recognized that it was not Cassidy’s fault. Letting that go made her feel as if a weight h
ad been lifted from her own shoulders.
The director’s call for action drew Brenna’s attention from her thoughts to the unfolding scene. On stage, Will Chapman portrayed Lieutenant Raycreek. As the second-ranking officer in Susan’s Time Squad, it was his job to inform Chris Hanssen of the punishment Susan had devised for her disobedience.
Raycreek slammed the ball around the court walls, forcing Chris to chase it. When she stopped to catch her breath, he continued to drill: “You disobeyed her, Chris. You’ll be on restricted duty until she thinks she can trust you again. You knew that going in. Why did you do it?”
“I believed it was the right thing to do,” Chris replied defenŹsively, panting.
“Sometimes it’s not right or wrong that you should be concerned about, it’s doing the prudent thing,” Raycreek countered, starting another round of the game. “Rules and regs protect everyone.”
“It’s prudent to stand by and let someone die?” Chris sneered. She missed another shot. “Your game,” she conceded sullenly.
“He played you for a fool, Chris. If you had listened to your commanding officer, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now,” he offered coolly, then walked toward the doors.
The stagehands used a pulley to open the doors, and Chapman walked out of camera view.
“Cut. Excellent.”
Chapman spun his racket in his fist and strode quickly off the other side.
It was clear to Brenna that Cassidy’s energy was flagging. Will had taken her all over the court with his shots, certainly more than was required for the cameras. Inhaling, Brenna started for the doorway to take her place for the next sequence. Around her, the camera crew, microphone, and lighting grips adjusted their equipŹment for the closer up angles coming in her one-on-one scene with Cassidy.
Concentrate, she prodded herself, hoping to finish this in just the necessary number of takes required to get all the right angles. She felt the telltale warmth of nerves dampening her palms, so she paced, trying to shake it off.
Cassidy had a moment to breathe as well. Since she would not be required to be in exactly the same position for the opening of the next scene, no one jumped to chalk the floor as she stepped away. She joined Brenna behind the doorway for a few moments of respite from the hot lights. “Brenna?”
“Ready to get off your feet?” Brenna asked.
Cassidy drew closer, decreasing their visibility to the others as she gave a tired smile and sighed. “Absolutely.”
Her voice, soft as it was, drew the attention of another actor. Jeff Liverpool, the now dead Baxley, walked up and interposed himself. “Hey, Cassidy, it’s been great. Thanks.” He cast a look over her costume once, then offered his hand.
“Mmm hmm,” she replied, forcing a smile as she looked away from Brenna. Patiently she shook the hand of the man she had spent the most camera time with over the previous week.
Brenna caught Cassidy’s shake of her head as the actor turned away. She thought she also heard a breath of relief. When Jeff was out of earshot, headed for costuming to get out of his clothes, she nudged Cassidy’s arm. “Trouble?”
“Not any more.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Cassidy started wryly. “You had that interview with TV Cult Times, so you missed the fifteen takes it took to convince him not to pinch my butt when he was holding me hostage.”
Brenna bit her lip to hold back a laugh and shook her head. “It’s such a cute butt, though.”
Cassidy blinked. Where on earth did that come from? Exhaustion? When she opened her eyes again, she saw Brenna sauntering away to the water cooler tucked against the wall of the soundstage. Deciding to extend the joking, Cassidy called, “So’s yours.” Brenna spun around and shook a finger at her while sipping from her paper cup, barely hiding a grin. Even though she wondered why Brenna had bantered wilh her in such a leasing way, Cassady could not deny she was relaxed again by the lime the director’s voice reached them both.
“All right, last one of the day, folks.”
Cassidy stepped out onto the gym set again, and he looked over at her. “Let’s see how few takes we can do, hmm?”
She displayed a thumbs up and stood on her mark at the service line, stretching to loosen her body.
“Action!”
The stagehands used pulleys to open the doors, and Brenna swept inside, racket in hand.
Commander Jakes hesitated when she saw the room was already occupied. The blond head swiveled toward her. When the azure eyes fell on her, Jakes straightened her uniform, a telltale “I’m not sure what I’m doing here” sign.
“Commander?” Chris Hanssen’s voice was low, a little tired but clearly questioning. She straightened from the beginning of a solo game. Considering she might be in for another reprimand, Chris drew herself up into an “at attention” posture, tucking her hands behind her back.
“I didn’t expect to find anyone here.” Jakes swallowed.
“I’m working some of the stiffness out of my arm.”
That drew Jakes’ attention to the bandage on Hanssen’s left arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. The doctor patched me up.”
The women were silent, looking at anything other than each other. Something occurred to Susan and she finally, reluctantly looked at Chris, “Did Lieutenant Raycreek deliver my decision?”
“I am relieved of duty for one month.”
“Do you understand why? You could’ve been killed, Lieutenant, many of the noncoms as well. We cannot reverse the orders once we’re on the ground. I thought you understood that. When I said no, I meant it.”
“What if his story had been true?” Hanssen bristled. “It would be an innocent man that is now dead. We still don’t really know. We’ll never really know.”
“You’ve got time on your hands. Read his file again, Chris. He lied to you.”
“So he lied to me. Don’t tell me you haven’t believed a lie once or twice,” Hanssen shot back.
“You don’t know anything about my service record.” Jakes stepped forward and glared hard at the woman whose gaze was just a bit higher than hers. “When you’re in command, you can give the orders. In the meantime, I’m in charge here.”
“You don’t give a damn about the fact that a man died.”
Jakes snatched the ball from Chris’ fingers, and Chris flinched. “Everyone’s life matters to me.” Catching her breath and trying to diffuse her frustration with the younger officer, she repeated softly, “Every life.” There was a quality of regret.
Chris’ body language softened slightly, but she still barked, “Second thoughts, Commander?”
“Cut.” The director interposed himself loudly, drawing both women’s attention. “Too angry. More contrite. Remember you’re inviting a connection here.”
Cassidy nodded. “Sorry.”
Brenna’s hand slipped over hers with a squeeze. “Where from?” she asked Mike, stepping back from her mark.
“Let’s start at the service line. Start your marks there.”
“Okay.” Brenna took several steps back while Cassidy adjusted her position as well. She looked over Cassidy’s form and, catching blue eyes on her, she smiled briefly. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Cassidy nodded and turned away. Mike stepped off the stage and slipped back behind the number one camera. “Action!”
“You don’t know anything about my service record.” Jakes stepped forward and glared hard at the woman whose gaze was just a bit higher than hers. “When you’re in command, you can give the orders. In the meantime, you follow orders.”
“You don’t give a damn about the fact that a man died.”
Jakes snatched the ball from Chris’ fingers, and Chris flinched. “Everyone’s life matters to me.” Catching her breath and trying to diffuse her frustration with the younger officer, she repeated softly, “Every life.” There was a quality of regret.
Chris’ body language softened slightly, and her tone wa
s conŹciliatory. “Second thoughts, Commander?”
Jakes’ voice also softened. “I know you won’t believe this, but I was almost willing to give Baxley that chance.” She came back alongside Chris. “Until he took you hostage.” She exhaled.
The two women stood side by side for a long moment, each counting two beats. Cassidy jumped when Brenna’s hand landed on her shoulder. Their gazes met across that shoulder.
“I told Jeremy to shoot.”
Cassidy’s stomach quivered, and she could not look away from Brenna’s very direct, very blue gaze. She could not remember her line and backed away from Brenna abruptly.
“Cut!”
Mike’s voice swiveled her head around sharply; Brenna’s hand squeezed her shoulder, then dropped and skimmed along her spine.
“Bren, too soon. Cass, why so jumpy?”
Brenna shook her head. “It’s my fault. You’re right, it was too early.” Cassidy looked to her questioningly.
The director seemed uninterested in placing blame. “Whatever.” Mike turned away, stepping back down. “Let’s just do it again. From ‘Second thoughts’. And, action!”
Chris’ body language softened slightly, and her tone was conŹciliatory. “Second thoughts, Commander?”
Jakes’ voice also softened. “I know you won’t believe this, but I was almost willing to give Baxley that chance.” She came back alongside Chris. “Until he took you hostage.” She exhaled. “I told Jeremy to shoot.”
“There wasn’t any other way?” Chris sounded confused.
Jakes shook her head. “It was up to Baxley to trust you, or us, to get him that hearing. If he had…maybe we wouldn’t be here
right now.” She lifted her hand to the woman’s shoulder. After a moment, her hand slid away. Hanssen looked up toward the blank gym wall as lakes walked out.
Cassidy finally took a breath when she heard the doors slide open and then shut again. She poised herself and studied the ball for a long moment before serving it against the wall with a resounding thud.
Turning Point Page 3