“Thanks. But it took them forever to put me together. I was here at six for hair and makeup.”
“They did a good job.”
“I’d sneak you a kiss, but I can’t mess up my lipstick.”
“I can wait,” I said.
She smiled a little, then turned to watch the camera crew. “I’m starting to understand how effortless they make everything look, when really it takes a huge number of people doing their part to make a simple show. It’s humbling.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m glad I only agreed to this one. What about you? If the pilot gets picked up, do they want you for more?”
“They haven’t said for sure, but I got the impression that, if I do well and audiences like me, they’ll offer more.”
“Is that what you want?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But I can’t pass up the opportunity to make some real money. There have been some lean years. I’d love to have some savings—for Mia.”
“That’s what my app did for me. Changed my life. And my sweet mother’s too.”
Kenzie swept in, holding up her hands. “Save all this for the camera.” She snapped her fingers at the crew. “Are you guys ready?”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of them said.
“Listen, guys,” Kenzie said. “I want you to talk like you were, only while the cameras are rolling. Go back to chatting about the wine app and your mom, Vance. People love those details.”
Lila and I looked at each other and nodded.
“We got this,” I whispered in her ear. “Just forget they’re there.”
“I’ll try.”
“If you get nervous or lose track of what you’re saying, just anchor to each other and keep going,” Kenzie said. “Editing will do wonders, so don’t worry about delayed responses or whatever.”
“All right, we’re rolling in five,” the director shouted. “Everyone to first positions.”
Kenzie zipped past with her headset on, giving us a double thumbs-up as she disappeared into the next room. Carol stood just out of frame, arms crossed, keeping a hawk’s eye on everything.
The director, a short man with a receding hairline and pink scalp, had introduced himself earlier. He came over to us, explaining what we needed to do. “Vance, you’ll walk Lila through the house, tell her what the space means to you. Lila, ask questions as they come up organically. Don’t worry about the camera—just talk.”
Easier said than done.
“Action!”
I led Lila into the living room, with the camera following us. There was another cameraman already inside, filming from a different angle.
“This is where my mom and I used to spend a lot of our time,” I said. “We made a lot of memories here.”
The living room looked even more tired under the harsh light of the production setup, but I remembered my childhood fondly. As a kid, I never thought about whether a kitchen was updatedor not. What stuck with me were the little things—dinners together, my mom grading papers at the kitchen table late into the night while I studied. The Thanksgiving she dropped the turkey on the floor and we made a secret pact never to tell anyone.
“My mom raised me alone—just the two of us. She was a teacher at the middle school, taught seventh-grade English for almost thirty years. She always said it was important that we stay in her family’s home. We have a long history here in Willet Cove.”
We walked slowly around the living room. All the furniture had already been taken out when I moved my mother, leaving behind the ugly carpeting and not much else.
“She used to sit right here after school, working on her lesson plans, sipping a glass of tea. On Friday nights, we’d make popcorn and watch old movies.” I gestured toward the fireplace. “She built real wood fires in there.”
Lila glanced up at me, her eyes soft. I suspected she’d forgotten about the cameras.
“My great-grandfather built most of this house with his bare hands. Thinking of it leaving the family was devastating to my mom. So when I moved back to Willet Cove, we came up with a plan—she’s now in a retirement community, and I have the family home. A place to make memories with my daughter.”
