the pieces of my life

Day 19 of Nanowrimo (challenge: use “There’s no way I’m going to see a doctor about that”):

“Trenton, this is my mom,” I said coldly. I prayed my mom would act cool and not like a gushing idiot fan.

I’m not sure why I was worried. There was really no doubt. My mom turned into a gushing idiot fan. “Oh, my Trenton Locke! What an honor to meet you. I’m such a fan of our work. I loved you in Marlowe’s England and thought your were divine in Jack in Love.” She went rifling through her purse. “I know I’ve got a camera in here somewhere. Can I get a picture with you?”

“For Lisa’s mother?” Trenton said dramatically. “Anything!”

“God, Mom,” I muttered, half under my breath at her. “Is this really necessary?”

“Lisa, I know this is your everyday life, but this is exciting for me!” She finally snagged her camera and said, “Got it!” She handed it to me. “Do you mind?”

Trenton put his arm around her and pulled her close. My mom grinned like a silly sorority girl as I snapped the picture.

“Take a few, just in case,” my mom said.

“Mom, it’s digital. I can tell I got it.”

“Just humor her, luv,” Trenton said.

I took a few more pictures before handing the camera back to my mom. Trenton turned to her, took her hand, and brought it to his mouth. “A pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Friedman.”

My mother had the nerve to blush. “Oh, it’s Helen!” she said.

“Helen, then.” He kissed her hand and then to me said, “I’ll see you on set.”

As he walked away I hissed to my mom, “Do you have any idea what kind of sleaze he is? Don’t you read People or Us?”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“What about page two of the Herald? Even that has chronicled his lecherous ways.”

“I’m sure they exaggerate,” she said. “Anything to sell a paper, you know!”

“Mom, he shtuped the nanny. No ways around it. While the kid was home!”

“Oh please. And exactly what is your ‘reliable’ source? People? The National Enquirer?”

There was no point in telling my mom that my source was actually me. To my mom, the film world was this remote thing on TV and the actors and actresses these gods who deigned to entertain her. For me, the actors and actresses were the same neurotic, fucked-up people I hung out with on a daily basis. I actually knew for a fact exactly what happened between Trenton and the nanny because I was right there when his wife, well now ex, put everything together.

Cincinnati was an actress as well and she was actually working on one of Gary’s blow-‘em up films when it all came apart. I was going over her wardrobe in her trailer, taking the burnt up outfits and replacing them with ones that were still pristine.

She changed into the new outfit, but she was rubbing her thighs together uncomfortably.

“Is the material bothering you?” I asked. “Perhaps I could get the lining changed.” The pants had to be a special inflammable cloth that wouldn’t easily ignite. They were charred and blackened at the end, but not for real. Gary didn’t really set his actresses on fire, no matter how much they annoyed him.

“No, no,” she said. “Arg! I can’t help myself!” She began scratching herself between her legs.

“Um, would you like me to come back later?” I asked. Cincinnati wasn’t considered the most refined woman. Publicists were forever trying to get her to lay off the drinking or attend some etiquette classes, but her trashy roots kept resurfacing.

“I swear to God—” she yelped. “What did that motherfucker give me!”

I began to piece it all together. “Uh, would you like me to get the crew medic in here? Or find you a doctor?”

“There’s no way I’m going to see a doctor about this,” she said. “And if you tell one soul, I’ll make sure you never work again.”

An empty threat if ever there was one. When you’re sleeping with the director, there’s little you can’t do. But Cincinnati didn’t know about me and Gary. Besides, I saw no need to antagonize her.

It was only hours later when all hell broke loose. The nanny brought the kids to the set. Only she was walking a little oddly.

“What’s wrong with you?” Cincinnati asked the nanny suspiciously.

The nanny blushed. “I don’t know, really. I think I just have an evil yeast infection.”

For someone the press had pegged as proof that natural selection is a myth, she put two and two together pretty damn fast. “London, Berlin, you get inside this trailer right now!” she yelled to her kids as the first thing she found, which happened to be a fire extinguisher, went flying through the air toward the nanny’s head.

One arrest, two days delay of shooting, and a restraining order later, Cincinnati was back onset. And Trenton was out on his ass.

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