The Director's Cut

  “You don’t want a pretty boy.”

  “Right.”

  “You want Bob.”

  She groaned. “I know. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Poor Beni, she’s so fickle.’ ”

  Um, yeah.

  “Maybe I am. But . . .” A little sigh erupted. “I only know how I feel when he’s around. I could hang out in his office all day and just watch him work. He cracks me up. Makes me laugh. Makes me feel like I’m really smart and funny.”

  A new resolve took hold as I responded. “You asked me if I think Bob is handsome. I’d have to say yes. Because he’s good inside and out. Remember how Mama used to say ‘pretty is as pretty does’?”

  “Mama never said that.” Benita laughed. “Just the opposite, in fact.”

  “Well, you’ve heard the expression, anyway.” I paused to think through my next words. “When someone is really good on the inside—especially someone who radiates joy like Bob does—there’s a certain sheen on the outside too. I guess what I’m saying is a good heart equals handsomeness to me. When a guy has a great heart, I can’t see beyond it to the color of his eyes or hair, or how muscular he is.”

  “You’re totally making that up. Jason Harris is handsome outside and inside.”

  “Okay, maybe I’m still aware of those things, but they don’t matter so much to me. I’d rather have an average-looking guy with an amazing heart for the Lord than have the handsomest guy in the city who sees nothing but himself. Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense, actually.” Benita’s eyes got a little misty. “I’ve worked so hard to make myself beautiful on the outside, Tia. It scares me to think about how un-pretty I am on the inside.”

  “No, you’re beautiful inside and out.”

  Her smile radiated a newfound innocence.

  I glanced at the clock, stunned by the time. “We have to get going.” I gave her a quick hug, then realized I still had something left to share. “Oh, one more thing. You know that whole thing about someone going to the tabloids with the name of the baby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I found out that Lenora was the one who leaked the info to the media.”

  Benita’s eyes widened. “No way.”

  “Yeah. We can’t blame her, though. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that she’s got Alzheimer’s.”

  “I wasn’t sure that’s what it was, but I definitely knew something was up. The other day when I was putting on her makeup, she told me her new grandbaby’s name was Anne with an e.”

  “Yeah, I heard that one too.” I gazed into Benita’s eyes. “Beni, I know I already apologized for this, but I’m really sorry for even suggesting it might’ve been you.”

  She groaned. “Tia, I never claimed to be a saint. I . . .” She shrugged. “The reason I knee-jerked like I did was because I felt guilty.”

  “Guilty? Why?”

  “Because I told Julio the baby’s name. That first night I met him, I mean.”

  “You did?” I couldn’t believe it.

  “Yeah. I don’t know if he told anyone or not, but I shared private information with him,” she said. “But to my credit, I didn’t realize it was private till after the fact. No one actually made it clear to me that the scripts for upcoming episodes were secret until that day you and I talked. I was too scared to tell you because . . .” She sighed. “I’m such a screwup.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “I can’t even keep a job. I’m so . . . fickle. And I mess up everything, Tia. I’ll never be like you.”

  “You don’t want to be. For your information, I’m the biggest screwup there is.”

  She laughed. “We’re a mess, aren’t we? I can’t even compliment you without you feeling bad. Do you think we’ll ever get past all of this?”

  “Yes. And I think it’s going to be sooner rather than later.”

  “Good.” She grinned, and for a moment, I saw the little sister I’d known in junior high—the one who liked to entertain me with her stories about how perfect life would one day be for the two of us. “Let’s make a pact that we’ll both be quick to admit our flaws, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  The itching kicked in again, and I turned, asking her to scratch my back. As she did, I told her about my visit to the allergist.

  “Oh, Tia, you’re allergic to Angel?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I nodded. “A little to the left, please.”

  She continued to scratch. “What are you gonna tell Mama?”

  “I have no idea. I just know that I’ll be on allergy meds the next time I come over, so if I’m talking like a drunken sailor, you’ll know why.”

  Benita laughed. “Now that I would pay money to see.”

  I gave her a hug, and then we headed into the conference room. I felt like I’d lost ten pounds. The tightness in my shoulders had lifted. Something about getting through this situation with Benita had proven once and for all that coolheaded reactions really could dictate healthier, happier outcomes.

  Jason met me at the door of the conference room, all smiles. “Ready to roll?”

  “Yep.” I smiled. “I have a feeling things are only going to get better from here.”

  “Oh, I do hope so,” Lenora said as she came in. “It’s about time things got better. It seems like I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.”

  I paused, unsure of her meaning. Then Jason snapped his fingers and said, “Some Like It Hot. 1958.”

  “That would be 1959, young man,” she said with a wink. “Why, has anyone ever told you that you look just like Tony Curtis? He was in that movie, you know.”

  “Jamie Lee’s father,” Jason said with a nod.

  “Ah, yes. I was there when that beautiful little girl was born.” Lenora sighed. “But anyway, Tony, I would be so grateful if you would sit next to me at the . . . ” She looked around the conference room. “What are we here for again?”

  “Roundtable reading,” Jason said, looping her arm through his.

  “Yes, the roundtable reading. Though I’ve always wondered why they call it that. This table isn’t round. It’s rectangular.”

  She began to tell a story about the day Jamie Lee Curtis was born. I had no way of knowing if she’d ever met Jamie Lee, but I did know one thing—the man seated next to her at this moment was very much a star. And I was one lucky girl to have lassoed him.

  On Thursday I left my house before the sun even came up. Rex had arranged for breakfast on the set, then I would meet with the various department heads to go over the shots for the day. At that time I would make my final decisions for how each scene would be shot. By the time the cast and the rest of the crew arrived, we would have a plan set in motion.

  As I drove, I had the most unusual sense that something big was about to happen. I’d had that feeling only a couple of times before in my life, and both times the “something” had turned out to be bad. Still, with my faith firmly intact, I kept a positive outlook. Why, in the last two weeks alone, I’d practically delivered a baby on my own and had a blind date stolen. Surely I could handle whatever life threw my

  way.

  When I arrived at the studio, everything seemed in perfect order. Jason greeted me with a warm hug as I entered, and Lenora seemed to be completely coherent and normal. Well, except for the Ben-Hur costume, but I’d come to expect that from her.

  Yes, God was in his heaven, and all was right with the world, as Anne with an e would say. And despite my earlier concerns, this day would go down in history as one of our finest. How could it not with Brock Benson still on board, along with his new love interest?

  Around nine thirty, the cast and crew arrived. I prepped them and then slipped back to my office for a couple minutes. For whatever reason, I felt the strongest urge to pray. Afterward I headed out to the soundstage, smiling as I saw the ushers seating our audience. I glanced at the crowd of people, stunned to see my father in the s
econd row. What in the world?

  I hurried his way, and he gave me a shy smile. “Hey, Tia-mia.”

  “Dad . . .” I wanted to add, “What are you doing here?” but decided that would come across as rude. “You’ve never been to one of our tapings before. Glad you could come.”

  “I figured it was about time. Besides, Beni asked me to. She’s very proud of her work here.” His eyes filled with tears. “She’s proud of you too, Tia-mia. I heard all about it last night. She thinks you’re the best director in town.”

  “Really?” Looked like our little sister-to-sister chat had paid off.

  I’d just started to ask, “Where’s Mama?” when she appeared at the end of the aisle, looking lovely in a colorful new blouse and black slacks.

  “Tia-mia!” She began to rave in Spanish about how excited she was to be here at the Stars Collide set. I gave her a hug and headed off to make sure my cast was ready to roll.

  By ten, our stage manager had the audience prepped and ready. I buzzed back and forth between the greenroom and the set, making sure everything was in place. Hopefully we could get this episode knocked out in a few hours.

  As always, we started by introducing our cast to the crowd. An extra-loud roar went up as Brock entered the stage. He waved and smiled, which sent the women into a tizzy. Hopefully they would be just as enthused by his characterization.

  With the snap of the scene board, we were off and running. Usually the first scene was the toughest, but not today. Even though Lenora had several lines to deliver, she did so without missing a beat. I could hardly believe it. No retakes at all. Well, unless we noticed something in the dailies. Could things get any better?

  We were about halfway into the second scene when the floor underneath my feet began to tremble. For a moment, I thought I was imagining it. Sometimes when the larger cameras rolled across the floor, they created that same eerie vibration. But only a couple of seconds later, the shaking intensified.

  Halfway into her line, Erin stopped cold and stood frozen. Over her head, the chandelier began to sway. Then the sofa slid a few inches to the right. Several audience members screamed. By now the whole room was quivering, and set pieces were tumbling around me.

  I’d been through dozens of earthquake drills, of course. As a child, I had vivid memories of hiding under my desk during one. But this was different. I yelled, “Cut!”—probably not necessary under the circumstances—and Jason jumped from his spot behind the camera to rush my way.

  I watched, completely in a mental whirl, as members began to scramble. I wanted to holler, “Stop! Stay where you are!” but couldn’t. The words were stuck in my throat. Besides, what did one yell in the middle of an earthquake? All of my directorial skills went straight out the window.

  I watched as Brock, who’d been sitting on the back of the sofa, flipped off and disappeared behind it. Erin did a swan dive of sorts, also disappearing behind the couch.

  Jason held me tight as the tremor now shook us both. I lost my footing and went sprawling. As I began to crawl, Jason called out, “Find a door, Tia. I’ll be right back.”

  Somehow I made it to the doorway, only to realize it wasn’t a real door. It was just a set piece. Still, I had to think I’d be safer here, so I settled into the doorjamb and didn’t move.

  Off in the distance, the cries of the Stars Collide children rang out. I could hear Candy’s shrieks and Joey’s wails. They pierced my heart. I wanted to run to them but couldn’t make them out through the crowd. Oh yes, there they were, just beyond Scott and . . . Jason.

  Yes, Jason had gone to be with the children. God bless him. I would have to remember to kiss him later. If we survived.

  Stop it, Tia. Of course you’re going to survive.

  The shaking continued, and I held my breath. Surely this whole thing was a dream. I would wake up and laugh about how silly it had been.

  No, this was no dream. As the shaking intensified, I thought of my parents, seated in the audience. I tried to find them but couldn’t. I’d never prayed in such a frantic way before, but a thousand prayers went up at once, all of them involving my parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews.

  Behind me, Lenora began to trill with glee. “Ooo, we’re on a roller coaster! Look, there it goes again!”

  The room swayed, and a camera toppled from its stand, nearly hitting Rex. Thank God he managed to get out of the way just in time. The roar of what sounded like a train coming through the building now took over. Most of our audience members added their voices to the fray, and the cacophony of sounds nearly deafened me.

  The walls of the set began to tremble, and strangely, in that moment, I was reminded of the conversation I’d had with Jason about the walls I’d built up in my life. Who knew it would take something like this to bring them down?

  Thank goodness the physical walls remained intact, though several things that had been attached to them—a picture frame, a shelf, and a faux window—came toppling down, nearly striking one of our tech guys who’d sought refuge nearby. He managed to scramble away just in time.

  All of this I watched as if I were someone in a movie. It was real. No, it couldn’t be. And yet it was.

  Just as quickly as it had started, the shaking stopped. The sofa was somehow back in its original position, but not much else remained intact. Everything we’d worked so hard to put together—the set, the cameras, the lights—were all tipped, tilted, or broken.

  Not that I cared. Not one whit. No, right now only one thing mattered to me—we had made it through.

  Jason rushed my way, grabbed me, and whispered, “You okay?”

  When I nodded, he offered up a “Praise God,” then took me by the hand. We made the rounds together, checking on the children first, then Lenora, Scott, Brock, and Erin. Though badly shaken, no one appeared hurt.

  “I’ve got to find my parents.” Staring out into the audience, I finally caught a glimpse of my father rushing toward me with my mother just behind.

  I’d seen my father emotional before, but never like this. He grabbed me and held me close. Mama joined our circle, and seconds later, Benita linked arms with us as well.

  My father dove into a lengthy speech, all in Spanish, about how much he loved us, about how scared he was that he might’ve lost us. Everything we’d longed to hear him say for twenty-plus years came out in less than a minute.

  My mother’s tears broke my heart. I did my best to be a big girl. To nod and say everything was fine. But it wasn’t. Inside, I quivered like Jell-O.

  As my father cried out words of love over me, every bit of self-control I’d fought to maintain on the set of Stars Collide unraveled. I released my hold, my control, and just let ’er loose. The tears came—slowly at first, then in a river. All around, my cast and crew watched in what I could only guess was stunned silence. So much for the charade that I was tough as nails. Now they all knew the truth . . . I was anything but. And all it took was an earthquake to prove it.

  My father continued to whisper words of love and comfort, and for the first time in years, I relinquished my anger toward him long enough to be comforted. As I rested in his arms, years of internal pain melted away like butter. Right now I was just my daddy’s little girl. Not a famous director. Not someone in control. No, I was someone willing to let her guard down long enough to get real. To stop pretending. To be me, even if it meant looking vulnerable.

  And it felt good. Very, very good.

  It took a few minutes, but the Morales family finally managed to get things under control. I took a step back and tried to remember where I was and what I should be doing. Strange. We’d trained for all sorts of problems on the set, but never an earthquake. How did one go about putting a set back together after something catastrophic?

  Hmm. Probably the same way one would go about putting a life back together—by handing it over to the only one capable of handling something so big.

  Jason drew near, phone in hand. “Just checked the headlines. That was a 6.1.”

/>   “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. “There’s been a lot of damage around the city. But from what I can tell, the Topanga Canyon area was hardest hit.”

  I shook my head, still unable to take it in. “We made it,” I whispered.

  “A mas honor, mas dolor,” my father said.

  “The more danger, the more honor,” Jason echoed from behind me. “I agree. I think a lot of people deserve honor today.”

  “Yes.” My father turned to him and gave him a respectful nod. “I watched you taking care of my daughter.” He extended his hand. “Thank you.”

  Jason shook his hand, and they ended up in a bear hug.

  Minutes later, the ushers opened the back doors to release the audience. Many stayed put—clearly shaken—but several went shooting out of the doors in record time. My parents headed out to check on the rest of the family, though we’d already received word that everyone was safe and sound.

  Our remaining audience members were mostly on cell phones. Interesting, since they weren’t supposed to have them inside. But who could fault them? All around the room I could see the concern etched on people’s faces as they checked on loved ones.

  I made the rounds from one crew member to another, grateful to see that our writers and wardrobe folks were fine. Athena seemed more shaken than the others, but Stephen never left her side.

  After calling home to check on Kat, Scott took off in a hurry. I didn’t blame him. Thank God Kat and the baby were both fine. Brock and Erin left next, in a rush to check on his after-school facility.

  After they left, I walked the perimeter of the soundstage with Jason and Rex, taking inventory.

  “Looks like much of the damage is cosmetic,” Jason said. “The cameras are intact, and the set pieces are all fixable. Nothing huge. In the grand scheme of things, I mean.”

  Thank you, God.

  “How much time are we talking to pull things together?” I asked. “Days? Weeks?”

  “Days.” He took my hand. “But we should probably look at pushing production back a full week.”