Wednesday
Picture 2
Kimmydon's Choice: both
Title:
Lisa tried not to sigh as her hair was curled and sprayed again. She looked over at her current partner in this scene. She was so damn cute - big brown eyes, glistening hair, small yet gangly. She was playing a he, too, showing her prowess. Now, if only she’d follow cues.
Daisy was currently sprawled on the set floor, her spots shining under the lights, obviously too warm. She normally lived in a forest where it was spring, and her coat wasn’t built for this. Lisa felt sorry for Daisy, then she remembered how many petticoats this stupid costume had and felt sorry for herself again. She was getting too old for this. Daisy wasn’t old enough. That was part of the problem. Rather than paint spots on a small but yearling female, they’d gotten a true fawn. The poor thing.
Lisa didn’t smile as she approached Daisy and her handler. The fawn lifted her head a little and Lisa took the bottle of water from the handler, holding it for the baby. She licked at the nipple before sucking. The fawn probably wanted milk, but she’d had enough, so Thom said, and was just dehydrated.
“Look, Daisy, I know this gig sucks, but you know what? You work with me on this next scene, we get this done, and you get to quit for the day. I have to wear this get up for another four hours, but you’re finished. Doesn’t that sound good? In fact,” she looked over her shoulder before continuing, “this should be the last scene you have to do.” It wasn’t true, but what was left focused so little on the deer, they could CGI one in, or use a different fawn. Poor Daisy needed off this set.
Lisa waited until Daisy had finished drinking and then waved to the director. Everyone started moving when he barked. The scene went without a hitch. Daisy walked to Lisa on cue, pulling on her sleeve in the middle of her mock-trance to break it.
Lisa gave Daisy one last stroke and a kiss on the top of her head before moving to her next scene. She finished her day feeling stretched thin. She usually didn’t need more than the makeup touching time to spin her thoughts around to the correct place in the script. Normally, she could advance her character to that point in the story and step out of the chair ready. For some reason, today, she never felt completely certain she was on solid footing. She was never sure she’d portrayed the character properly. The director didn’t chide her or give Lisa any indication she was falling short of what he envisioned, which gave her hope that she was doing the story justice. She left the set tired and out of sorts.
“What’s the matter, Princess?” Ford asked as he drove her to the hotel.
She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me that. Nothing really, just ... never nailed it today.”
He didn’t answer. He’d long ago given up trying to tell her she did a great job. After a few discussions, it had become clear he didn’t know what to look for, how to know if it was a good job or not.
“Something on your mind? Outside the job? Maybe, something to do with the calendar?” He smirked and she frowned, not knowing what was up.
“Nothing with the calendar... unless you mean the way they keep rearranging the shots for the day. THAT is maddening.”
“No,” Ford said with a sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Lisa asked from beside him.
He shook his head. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
She sighed and closed her eyes as he drove her home. She might have drifted off, she often couldn’t tell, her dreams merging seamlessly with plot lines and stories on set. Occasionally she dreamed about her lonely existence off set, but that was too similar to reality as well. She noticed when the car stopped, though, and waited obediently for Ford to open her door.
“I think,” she paused to yawn, “I might not find my room without you.”
He chuckled. “Maybe one night you’ll find mine.”
She snickered and elbowed him. They spent most nights together; those when she didn’t pass out as soon as she got to her room. On those nights, they’d watch a game or play cribbage, anything normal. Anything that made her feel like less of a lonely freak.
She opened the door and threw her card on the side table, kicking off her shoes. Closing her eyes, she leaned back on the door and was surprised to find a warm body instead.
“Ford?!”
“Sorry. I wanted to give you something.”
Lisa wrinkled her brow. Give her something? “Ford, you don’t have to give me anything.”
“Happy Birthday to you,” he sang off key, pulling out the lighter that so often lit her cigarettes. “Happy Birthday to you.” He lit a series of candles on top of a horribly misshapen but chocolaty frosted cake. “Happy Birthday, dear Lisa.” He carried it over to her. “Happy Birthday to you.”
She’d completely forgotten it was her birthday. It was just another day on the job, another day chasing her dream without ever grasping it.
“Thank you, Ford,” she murmured, feeling a frog in her throat. She cleared it before blowing out the candles. “You bake that yourself? You aren’t trying to poison me, right?” She tried to lighten the mood for herself.
He snorted. “I’m in charge of your well being. I’d never feed you something I cooked.” He sliced a piece and laid it on a plate. “My niece made this, under my sister’s supervision. She’s twelve. She’s a big fan of yours and lives in town.”
“She does? She is? Why didn’t you say anything?” Lisa smacked him.
“Because I know you don’t like to play favourites. Because you’re usually so tired at the end of the day, I don’t think to mention her.” He shrugged.
“I want another birthday present,” Lisa demanded.
“Yeah? Let me guess.”
“Where does your sister live?” She started tugging back on her shoes. “We can’t eat this whole cake anyway.” She picked up the platter and her card by the door.
“Jamie’s going to freak if I don’t tell her you’re on the way.”
“Is that your niece?”
“No, her name is Kelly. Jamie’s my sister. She’s probably still going to give me hell for only giving her fifteen minutes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “She’ll want to clean up.”
Lisa shook her head. “Don’t tell her. I’ll tell her I told you not to call. I don’t want them to go to any trouble. I just want ... normal for a while.”
Ford hugged her shoulders and kissed her head. “I know you do. That’s why I mentioned to Kelly that you’d love a cake.”
“I do.” Lisa blushed as she looked down at the rather ugly, but very tasty, creation. Maybe her dream wasn’t impossible. Maybe she could have it all. Her phone beeped. Her mother had sent a message, hoping work was going well and that Lisa was having a happy birthday. “I’m going to make a call while you drive,” she told Ford, opening her phone.
He grinned and closed her door for her.
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