Page 22 of Cuts like a Knife
“Hi there,” I call out brightly. “Just here for my sister’s baby shower69.”
I try to edge past her without stopping, but the PA grabs my arm to hold me back.
“Let’s just get you in a mic now,” she says. “That way we can use your late arrival as a plot point if we need to.”
“For f—s sake,” I say, rolling my eyes.
I wish I could refuse, but this is part of the gig. Claire was completely honest and apologetic about what we’d be getting into if we attended this sham shower, so I can hardly say I didn’t know what I’d agreed to. And I’m not going to ruin my own sister’s event, even if she is a ridiculous Pollyanna.
I submit to being mic’d up and soon, am walking through the front door into Claire and Adam’s living room. It is fully, unnaturally lit and there are little cameras everywhere, as well as a camera operator with a big one up on his shoulder, and a boom operator with one of those giant fuzzy mics on a stick.
Every corner of the space is packed with friends and family, and Claire is in the seat of honor70.
Her huge belly is out in front of her and she’s opening perfectly wrapped, obviously-network-and-advertiser-provided presents. They’re all in boxes with those wrapped lids that lift off with no paper-tearing. No normal present opening here, in the world of perfectly scripted reality.
Adam is perched next to her on the arm of the chair, with one hand on her shoulder, and as I walk past, I see another PA, crouched out of sight behind the chair itself. She’s folded into the corner like a pretzel. What’s on earth is that about?
I catch the PA’s eye for a split second before I understand. She’s whispering brand names and sponsors and features to Claire as each present is opened. So that Claire can correctly identify the products and say the pre-agreed-upon lines about how great the stuff is.
Wow. I shake my head. I know this is how things are, but it never fails to disgust.
Gotta admit, though, my sister is positively glowing. She looks like the chick from The Birth of Venus. (If that chick had swallowed a basketball and was a 21st century reality TV star.)
Okay fine, she’s gorgeous.
“Hi,” she mouths at me, smiling. “Sit anywhere.”
I nod and look around for a seat. I note the locations of the rest of the Madison clan — My mother and father, Erica and Frank, are side by side near the kitchen. Gray is with Bex on the sofa. Diana is standing behind them holding a drink, flanked by her boyfriend Felix and his daughter, Izzy, who is so excited to be on camera, she seems to be vibrating.
Adam’s mom Marla is also in attendance (haven’t seen her in awhile), along with his niece — a super cute little girl called Annabelle, the daughter of his half-brother, Jake, who is nowhere to be seen.
That’s interesting, I think, as my eyes slide over them.
Jake is terrible. I knew him in high school. Can’t say I’m sad that he doesn’t appear to be here, but Annabelle’s alright. She’s just a little kid. I’m sort of surprised to see Marla, though. She’s a low-key narcissistic nightmare. She was in our Madison orbit for a long time, but Claire had enough at some point and after a big blow up and come-to-Jesus-style talk with her husband, cut the woman out completely for awhile.
But it looks like things may be mending there? Maybe?
I guess that makes sense. I mean, I’m not really a kid person, but from what I hear, its pretty hard to keep mother-in-laws away from their grandchildren.
As I scan the room, I realize that Drew isn’t in attendance either. Which is great. I was late, so surely he should be here already if he was coming at all71.
I can’t stop thinking about the email.
Who the f— sent that email? Are they going to try to blackmail me? There wasn’t any sort of request in it. It was just a threat. So it’s probably from someone who really hates me. Who really hates me?
I scan the room, even though I know it’s ridiculous. Nobody here besides Bex even knows what happened at Flash. And none of them, to my knowledge, hate me. Claire and I butt heads sometimes, but she’s my sister. Come on.
I see Claire’s bestie and makeup artist, Sam. They met before Claire got this gig, but since the show took off, Sam was hired on as the network’s Key Makeup Artist, and she’s obviously working tonight, sporting a headset as well as a full tool belt green apron thingy of beauty products and brushes. She looks over and gives me a little smile72.
Drew isn’t the only expected family friend to not be in attendance, I realize. I don’t see Diana’s BFF Lou anywhere, which seems a bit odd. And actually, I haven’t see Lou in ages, now that I think about it. When we were kids, the girl was always around. Not as much as Drew was, but nearly. She was like Diana’s shadow. Diana, Lou, and Claire were always together. Mom called them “the big girls” and Bex and I “the little girls”. Everyone called gray “the baby”. Anyway. Diana, Lou and Claire were just sort of a constant trio.
I sidle up next to Di and decide to ask about it.
“Hi.” I whisper. “I just realized, Lou’s not here. I haven’t seen her in awhile. She okay?”
“Oh. No. She’s not.” Di shrugs. Then sighs. “I mean, she’s okay as far as I know, but no, she’s not here. We are no longer friends.”
“Seriously?”
