The Director's Cut (18 page)

“Tia, what are you saying?” Confusion registered in Erin's eyes.

I released a breath, then spit out the whole explanation: “Lesleigh Conroy's appendix is about to burst, so she's going into surgery and won't be here today, and we need you to take her place. Not just today for the final run-through, but for the filming tomorrow too. We're going to turn the little chorus girl into a star.”

Erin turned white as a sheet. “I . . . I think I need to sit down.” She did. Finally, she looked up at me, bug-eyed. “There's no one else?”

“Nope. It's just you, kid. So, what do you say? Can we go over the lines one more time so I can give you some direction?”

“I—I guess so.”

I passed a script to her, instructing her to turn to page seven. She glanced down at the script and started to read.

Turned out I didn't have to give any direction at all. Erin had every nuance right, even the facial expressions. And best of all, she'd somehow already memorized the lines. After the first couple, she barely looked at the script.

“Good gravy.” Rex paused and shook his head. “This is something else. I don't believe it. Haven't seen anything like this since '57 when Elvis and I auditioned for the same part in
Jailhouse Rock
.” A sheepish look came over his face. “He got the part, obviously. Not me.”

Erin chuckled. “The world will never know what it missed, Rex.”

“Oh, I remember Elvis,” Lenora said, joining us. “I did a movie with him once.” She went off on a tangent about what it was like to work with the King, but I turned my attention to Erin.

“I can't thank you enough.”

“Ugh.” Erin's nose wrinkled. “I know I'm pretty rough.”

“Rough?” I laughed, suddenly feeling very carefree. “Oh, Erin.”

A flush ran up her neck and into her cheeks. Time to put her out of her misery.

“Erin, you've always stayed behind the camera.”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “I love it there. Anything to be in the studio.”

“I know, but the camera is going to love you. And your acting skills are pretty amazing. You're a natural.”

“I am?” She looked stunned at this proclamation.

I put my hand on her arm. “Don't you sense it when you're acting? Every now and again I see a rare gem like you—someone who's gifted in such a natural and obvious way—but most of those people have trained for years. With you, it's just an unpretentious, God-given gift. No other way to describe it.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed pink again. “I'll admit, acting is a lot of fun, but I'm not really into the glitz and glam side of Hollywood. I'm the one who wants to make sure the camera angles are right and the cast is prepared to do the best job possible.” She shrugged. “I'm not trying to say I want your job, Tia, but one day I want to have a job like yours. It's something great to aspire to.”

“I think that's awesome, and I hope you get whatever your heart desires. But in the meantime, thank you for doing this. It means the world to me.”

“Oh, you're welcome.” She smiled. “I'm sure it will be fun too. It's all fun.”

“Yes, it is.”
When you have a great attitude like that.
“Now get yourself over to hair and makeup and make sure they age you a little. You've got to look like you're thirty, not twenty-two.”

“I remember when I was twenty-two,” Lenora said. “Seems like just yesterday.”

Erin still looked half stunned, half thrilled. “This is really happening,” she whispered.

“Carpe diem.” I squeezed her hand. “Seize the day, Erin.”

“Oh, I know that one,” Lenora said with a wave of her hand. “Robin Williams.
Dead Poets Society
.”

“1990,” Rex threw in.

“No, I think it was '89,” Erin said. “But I don't suppose it matters.”

“I've always thought Robin Williams was such a funny man.” Lenora giggled. “I met him once when I did a guest appearance on
Mork and Mindy
.”

I turned back to Erin with a smile. “I know I've put you on the spot, but let me remind you that you'll be playing the part of Brock Benson's love interest. And there's a kiss involved.”

She tried to respond but could only manage a stammer.

“Exactly. Now get in there and let them figure out the hair and wardrobe thing. And count your lucky stars. Okay?”

“O-okay.” She giggled. “Just wait till I call my mama. She's gonna flip.”

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't help but be reminded of my years in film school. I'd taken enough acting classes to learn how to give instruction to my show's stars. I understood vocal inflection, characterization, tone, pitch, volume control. Only one problem—I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag. No way, no how. Still, it was clear Erin could, and I needed her now more than ever.

“Thank you, Lord. You sent the right person at the right time.”

I turned and ran smack-dab into Jason, who offered me a broad smile. “Well, thank you. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, I . . . well, I . . .”

Nah. What would be the point in explaining, anyway?

He gave me a wink, which caused me to lose focus. If there was one thing I'd learned over the years, it was that an out-of-focus director meant an out-of-focus cast.

Gazing into his beautiful green eyes, I had to conclude there were worse things to befall a director.

Our morning run-through went far better than I might've guessed, based on the prior day's rehearsal. And even though our regulars did a fine job, I had to admit there was something rather special about watching Erin at work, especially now that I knew she would be playing the role. Her comedic timing simply took my breath away.

We took a break for lunch around 11:30, but I had a lot of work on my plate, so leaving seemed out of the question. Jason had other ideas.

“I'm starving. Want to join me for lunch?”

Suddenly everything I'd planned to do during the lunch hour could wait. I gave him a smile. “Love to. Hang on, okay?” I turned back to scribble a few things onto a piece of paper. “Sorry, I had to get that down before I forgot.”

We walked to the commissary as a tour bus approached. Several starstruck fans waved as if they thought we were movie stars. After years in the business, I still couldn't get over how some fans acted around famous people. Crazy.

“Whoa.” Jason took hold of my arm and pulled me toward him as the bus ambled by. The protective gesture almost brought tears to my eyes. Most of the men in my world would've protected themselves first, then glanced back to make sure the rest of us were okay.

Inside the commissary, I ordered a club sandwich, fries, and a Coke.

Jason looked at me with wide eyes. “You eat? Something other than salad, I mean?”

“Yeah. I eat. And I kick down walls. And I wear pink. And ruffles too. And I apologize to people when I'm wrong.” I sighed. “I'm a changed woman.”

“I see. Well, don't change too much. I might not recognize you.” He waggled his brows and laughter bubbled up inside me.

Off in the distance, one of the workers cleaned off a table. I nodded in that direction, and a couple minutes later we were seated together eating. It felt really good to be able to just be myself in front of a guy for a change.

Now that the opportunity had presented itself, I wanted to talk to Jason about something he'd said on Saturday. Hopefully I wouldn't botch this. I tried to figure out how to begin.

“What's up?” he asked after a couple minutes of silence. “You have something on your mind.”

“Am I that obvious?”

He nodded and took a bite of his burger. “Yep.”

“Okay.” A deep breath followed. “I wanted to respond to what you said last Saturday, about having walls up.”

“Ah.” He took a swig of his Coke. “Hope I didn't hurt your feelings.”

“No. Well, maybe a little, but you were right. I've always had walls up. I . . . I don't really want people to know about my life outside the studio, so it's been a protective measure, I guess.”

He stopped eating and leaned forward. “I want to know about your life, Tia. The things that bother you. The things that make you laugh. I want to know it all.” His words were soft and took me by surprise.

I managed a lame nod. Brilliant. “I can't tell you the whole story over one short lunch, but there's a lot about me that people just don't know. Where I come from . . .” I shook my head. “Well, it's been a tough life. And maybe it's made me a little hard.”

“Tell me.” He took another bite and leaned back in his chair.

“You've met my sister, Benita. But you probably don't know I have three brothers. There are five of us, and I'm the oldest.”

He gave me an admiring look. “I always wanted brothers and sisters.”

“Not these.” I paused long enough to repent for what I'd just said. “Anyway, I grew up in South Central.”

“Where exactly? I'm wondering if it's close to the street church I've been working with.”

“Closer than you think, but that's a story for later.”

“Okay.” He crossed his arms at his chest, his gaze penetrating.

“Anyway, I lived there until a few years ago. I grew up in a bungalow that was built in the twenties. One bathroom. Three bedrooms. My brothers had one room, my sister and I had another.”

“Man.”

“Yeah. And we're talking small bedrooms too. Most of my life I slept on the floor on a twin mattress with my little sister curled up beside me.” The memories overtook me at this point. “My father was gone as much as he was home, so sometimes I slept in my mama's room. She would cry a lot because she didn't know where he was.”

Jason squirmed a bit in his chair, and I could tell he was sorry he'd brought up the subject. “I'm sorry, Tia. I had no idea.”

“You had no idea because I didn't want anyone to know. I made good grades in school and managed to put myself through film school, and now here I am.”

“Wearing Kenneth Cole shoes and carrying a Prada handbag.”

I drew in a deep breath and thought through my next words. “You think I'm covering up something with all that?”

“No. That never occurred to me. Just an observation that you've got great taste. I never would have guessed you were from such a rough background.”

“It's not that I'm ashamed of my upbringing.” The conversation with my mother washed over me afresh. “Well, some of it I'm ashamed of. Never knowing if my dad was coming or going. That part stunk. And watching my mama get her heart broken over and over again—that wasn't much fun either. But I learned how to be tough in the projects. And determined. That's where my backbone came from.”

“No doubt.” He gave me a curious look. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“I know you're a Christian. It's obvious. But how did you manage to hang on for the ride if your situation was that rough?”

“Ah.” So the moment had come. “Remember I told you earlier that the street church you're working with is closer than you think?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn't just mean physically close, though it is. They meet about four blocks from my house. But it's close to me in other ways too.” I paused, trying to work up the courage to share. “See, I never really went to church as a little girl. My mother did for a while, but once my dad started coming and going, she gave it up. Then, when I was about eight, a group of people from a church starting coming down to our area on Saturday mornings to do street ministry for the kids. They called it Sidewalk Sunday School.”

“Oh, wow. They still call it that. It's great.”

“I know. And it was great. I'm sure it still is. I met some kind and loving people, and they took the time to really pour into me. Not just to pound the gospel into me, mind you, but to really, genuinely care for me. They made sure we had Christmas presents every year and even bought me shoes on a few occasions.”

He sat up straight, eyes riveted on mine.

“When I got to my teens, I wandered a little bit, but they came looking for me. Before long, I was working alongside them, directing their dramas. It gave me a sense of purpose. And when the time came to graduate from school, I had no doubt what I wanted to do with my life: I was born to be a director. I never would've known it if they hadn't given me a chance.”

“Tia, this is amazing.”

I nodded. “They saw something in me that I didn't even see in myself. And they reached down and stirred up the gifts inside me. That's why I do what I do. I don't just direct these actors and actresses so that I can tell them what to do. I direct them so that I can stir up the gifts God has placed inside them. Sure, sometimes I'm hard on them. I want them to be their very best, not just so the show's ratings stay up, but so they can be proud of their performance. So they can say they've done their very best, given their all.”

He gave me a curious look, one I couldn't quite make out.

“Do you think I've been mean? Is that how I come across?”

“I'm not sure
mean
is the right word. I've heard people in the cast say . . .” His words drifted off. “It's all a matter of perception, anyway.”

“I don't want anyone to have a bad perception of me. It's just so hard. I know the names they call me. But you have to understand. I grew up in a rough place. If you weren't tough, you could get killed. I was surrounded on every side by gang activity and shootings. That's my background. It's a part of who I am, even though I keep going.”

“Wow.” He took a sip of his Coke, then set it back down on the table.

“We don't have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Tia . . . ” He leaned forward and took my hand. “This is exactly what I want to talk about. I want to know you, even the hard things.”

Well, if that didn't give a girl courage, nothing would.

He looked at me with a smile so sweet I thought I'd melt into a puddle right there in the commissary. His expression shifted, and suddenly I read concern in his eyes. “Tia, before you say anything else, I have to tell you something.”

“Oh?” My heart skipped to double time as I imagined what he might say.

“Until a couple of months ago, I was really hard on you. I don't know why, I really don't. Maybe because I'd already been here a couple of years before you took over as director. I had my own way of doing things and saw you as some sort of threat.”

I sighed. “I came in like a lion, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but that's what directors do. They direct. They lead. I . . .” He offered a woeful shrug. “I saw you as a challenge to the way I'd always done things. But you made me think outside the box. I'm a better cameraman, thanks to you. In fact, I'm a better
man
, thanks to you.”

“Wow.” I hardly knew what to say.

He squeezed my hand. “I'm glad we're getting to know each other. I had no idea of all you've been through.” He gave me the sweetest look. “If I'd known, I would have gone easier on you. And in case I don't say it enough, I'm really proud of you, Tia. You're an amazing woman.”

“Th-thank you.” I couldn't think of the last time I'd heard a man tell me he was proud of me, so his words genuinely touched me.

Jason's hand lingered in mine, and I was captivated by the tenderness pouring from his eyes. In that moment, I did the craziest thing. I released a giggle—a girlish, flirtatious giggle. Then, perhaps overcome by the sweetness of the conversation, I brushed a loose hair off my face—flirting à la Benita—and gazed into Jason's eyes, allowing the pause to last an extra-long time.

As our eyes met and held, I felt that little spark—that tiny bit of magic that happens in musicals, where the leading man suddenly sweeps the leading lady into his arms and takes her for a choreographed spin around the dance floor. I could almost see us now—me in my ball gown and Jason in his tuxedo, waltzing across a beautiful outdoor set near a lake. Nah, maybe I'd better stick to indoor. A ballroom. A grand and glorious place with exquisite chandeliers and a large wooden dance floor, where we danced like the Hollywood greats from days gone by.

“Tia?” Jason's voice startled me back to attention.

“Hmm?” My hazy dream came to an end. Fred and Ginger's dance ended abruptly.

“I want you to know something.” A smile turned up the edges of his lips. “I really want you to know that—”

“What are you kids up to?”

I looked up to discover Lenora at our table. Her food tray trembled in her hand.

“Can I join you, or is this a private meeting?” Lenora's gaze shifted to the table, and I realized Jason and I were still holding hands.

“Oh, well, we . . .”

“I'm all alone today.” The tray continued to tremble in her hands. “Rex had to stay in his office to work, but he told me to come and find someone to sit with.”

“Please, join us.” Jason released my hand, rose, and grabbed Lenora's tray. She sat and dove into a lengthy discussion about the price of Salisbury steak as he put her plate in front of her.

Looked like I would have to wait until another day to see what Jason had on his mind. For now, Lenora totally consumed the conversation.

I dabbed my lips with a napkin and gave her a closer look. “Lenora, that dress is divine. Who are you today?”

“Claudette Colbert.
It Happened One Night
.” She took on a faraway look. “Did you ever see that one, honey?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“Oh, get to the theater and see it as soon as you can. There's something so magical about the interaction between Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. They're both breathtakingly beautiful to look at, but it's not just that. They're meant to be together. You can see it in their eyes.” She sighed. “I can always tell when people are supposed to be together.”

“You can?”

She flashed a girlish smile, then looked back and forth between us. “Well, sure. I knew KK and Jack were supposed to get married as soon as I met him.”

I decided not to correct her. If she wanted to call Scott by his stage name, so be it.

“And take you, for instance.” Lenora chuckled. “You're such a funny little thing. Always acting so tough and all. But you're going to marry a man with a heart of gold, someone who would give his shirt to help another.” Her gaze shifted to Jason, who, thank goodness, didn't react.