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“It’s fine Tess, you don’t have to wait on anyone.” She said it like a person who never worried about waiting on anyone, and the differences between our lives were brought into sharp relief in my mind.
“I got this.” I took a deep breath and did what I needed to do. I pretended perspiration wasn’t actually dripping from the back of my hair and sliding down my neck as I welcomed the photographers, makeup artists, and the interviewer into my home. I acted like this was how I’d intended to look when the two biggest movie stars in the country were about to be interviewed in my house, like I was just. That. Casual.
“There’s some coffee and tea, and some muffins and fruit in the dining room,” I told them. “Or, I mean, there will be in a minute or two …”
“I’m sorry we’re early,” Alison Sands told me, offering the smile I’d seen a few times before when the magazine had done segments on television entertainment shows. She was pretty and put together in her crisp black skirt suit, and standing next to her made me feel even more like a sweaty disaster. “We weren’t sure how much time to allow—you’re pretty far out here!”
The frown crossed my face before I could contain it. It wasn’t as if we lived in the middle of nowhere. Southern Maryland was civilized. We had a Target. And two Starbucks!
“It’s fine,” I managed, though coming at the time you were invited was much more civilized in my mind than showing up an hour early, especially in the morning. I decided to let it roll off my shoulders, and then I went to defrost muffins I’d made a week ago and brew coffee. Juliet came in to pull some fruit from the refrigerator, maybe sensing my desperation. When we’d gotten it all out on the dining room table and the magazine team was at work setting up for the interview, I turned to my sister.
“I’ll be right back,” I told her, and then I turned to sprint up the stairs to attempt to break the record for world’s quickest shower. Naturally, Ryan was coming down, and I barreled directly into him. Because, clearly, that was how my day was going to go.
“Oh crap,” I said, startled as his strong hands found their way around my arms to steady me. “I’m so sorry.” He was two steps above me, so I was staring at his chest. His strong, perfect chest, on display through a fitted dark button down shirt. I was already covered in a sheen of sweat, so hopefully he didn’t notice the way my skin heated and flushed.
“You okay?” He asked with a laugh in his voice.
“Fine. Sorry.” I stepped back down, out of his grip, and dodged around him, in too much of a hurry to try to stifle the careening butterflies in my gut or the desperate desire to stand there in front of him for hours upon hours. Or maybe forever. “Be right back.”
I took what could potentially be qualified as a shower in parts of the world where water was scarce—the kind where each part of your body got the vaguest of rinses with the water. Then I put on some makeup and twisted my hair up into a bun, and arrived back downstairs to find the interview already underway. I wondered what kind of notes they might have already made about Juliet’s super-sweaty sister.
Juliet and Ryan sat side by side, facing toward the picture window at the front of the parlor. They were flanked by all sorts of lights and reflective umbrellas, and the interviewer sat on a high stool in front of them, her legs crossed primly at the ankles.
“I thought this was a magazine interview,” I said to the big dark haired guard standing in the doorway watching.
He turned and gave me a smile that was surprisingly sweet for a guy so huge and terrifyingly … huge. “They’re doing this segment for promo and to feature on a couple of the nightly shows.”
I nodded as if this was just a standard happening in my daily life, and lingered for just a second. They were still doing sound checks and measuring lighting, so I stepped out and went to the dining room for a cup of coffee and a quick bite.
I was feeling better. I was dressed and dry, and had done hostessy things like making coffee and offering it to the crew. This was more like I’d imagined the day going.
Except. Where was Gran? I didn’t hear her cursing, so that was something.
I tiptoed back out of the room and wandered the main level of the house, peeking out onto the porch and scanning the yard. She sometimes did Tai Chi out under the trees on the riverbank, but she wasn’t out there now. I approached the door to the room where we’d moved her gaming computer and wasn’t too surprised to hear her grumbling at the monitor. I pushed the door open and was greeted by a cloud of dense smoke hanging in the air, its telltale aroma pungent and thick. Because of course Gran wouldn’t care what a Hollywood magazine was going to write about us.
“Gran!” I scolded. “It’s not even nine AM!”
She turned in her huge black chair and stared at me with too-round eyes and a little guilty smile. “Tess. I needed to relax. Big raid today.”
I shook my head. I did not need this today. “No big raid today. You promised no Warcraft today. And no pot!” I hissed.
“You can’t trust anyone over forty,” she told me. “Haven’t you ever heard that?”
“Oh my God,” I said, opening windows and waving my arms around over my head. “It reeks in here. The magazine people are here—do you want them to put this in the article?”
Gran shrugged.
“And now I smell like pot!” So much for appearing put together.
Gran shrugged again, giving me a simpering smile as she crossed her arms.
“No games and no pot until they’re gone!” I told her.
“Fine,” she said, pouting and then taking another quick drag on her joint.
“Give me that!” I said, reaching to grab it and stub it out in her ashtray.
“You could use it,” she said, nodding.
