Page 73 of Just Beachy

“It’s her all right. And she’s the perfect person to help you share the truth,” I whisper. “Millions of people will watch the interview live and millions more will hear about it and stream it later.”

“Oh, I don’t—” Grand begins.

“Grand, it’s Oprah. You can always say no to the interview, but I think you should at least speak to her.”

• • •

Two days later,Luke and Rod escort Oprah’s crew through the press and paparazzi outside.

A young woman steps forward and shakes our hands. “Hi. I’m Melissa. Thanks so much for agreeing to theinterview on such short notice,” she says, as if anyone has ever turned down an interview with Oprah on the grounds that it happened too quickly. “I’m one of Oprah’s producers. It will be my job to make sure you’re comfortable and understand what’s going on at all times.

“This is Todd. He’s our camera operator.” She points to a tall, lanky guy somewhere in his twenties.

“Jay’s here to handle lighting. Gina’s our sound person. She’ll get you miked up and ride audio. Chris and Sandy are going to pull the sofa forward, so we get some separation from the wall and room for backlighting.”

Once the sofa is pulled forward, Chris makes sure we’re reseated directly across from the video camera.

“You’ll be able to hear Oprah and each other through your earbud,” Gina says as she hands us tiny flesh-colored earbuds and shows us how best to tuck them into position. “Hal is setting up the boom microphone.” She motions to a large hot-dog-shaped padded microphone being mounted on a stand just high enough to be out of the shot. “Anything you say will be picked up,” Gina continues. “And while we’ll be able to edit out mistakes later if we need to, you want to be careful not to say anything you don’t want going out live once we get started.”

I look around at the crew and the equipment, the cables snaking along the floor, and for a couple of seconds I feel like I’m back on the set ofMurder 101.

“Okay,” Melissa adds as lighting is set up all around us. “We’ve got less than ten minutes until air. You want to look directly into the monitor in front of you as much aspossible so that you appear to be engaged in a conversation with Oprah. This second camera”—she points to another being set up at an angle—“will allow us to do individual cutaways as well as a two-shot.”

I squeeze Grand’s hand. “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “All we have to do is pretend that Oprah’s sitting across from us.”

Grand nods her understanding but she doesn’t let go of my hand.

“We’re going to keep recording until Oprah signals us to stop for her wrap-up,” the producer continues. “She’ll keep things on track.”

We both nod. But Grand’s grip on my hand tightens.

I want to ask her if she’s sure she wants to do this, but Oprah is now visible on the monitor. Oprah waves. I hear her hello through my earbud. Grand startles beside me, and I know she can hear her, too. It’s my turn to gently squeeze Grand’s hand.

“You okay?” I mouth and am relieved when Grand nods and looks as if she means it.

Oprah thanks us for agreeing to be interviewed then explains, “We’ll be doing this live, so we won’t be stopping and starting. The interview will be recorded and will air again this evening.” Oprah gives us a reassuring smile. “Remember, I’m just the conduit. My job is to help you tell the real story behindThe Missing Madonnaand make sure it reaches as many people as possible. Melissa will count us down and I’ll start things out by sharingThe Madonna’s history and introducing you.”

Melissa holds one fist up so that we can all see it. Silently she unfolds one finger at a time, and when all five are open, she points her hand at the camera to let us know we’re live.

With skill and grace, Oprah sets up the situation and gently pulls the whole story out of Grand. Then video ofThe Madonnawith Drake’s signature is shown first in close-up. As Oprah explains ultraviolet luminescence in layman’s terms, the audience sees Phillip Drake’s signature disappearing from the top layer of paint to reveal Grand’s signature beneath it.

Grand’s eyes water. She draws a sharp breath. “I always dreamed that the truth would come out one day, but so many years went by that I finally gave up.” She turns to me, and her forehead briefly touches mine before she turns her attention back to Oprah. “If it weren’t for my granddaughter,” she says directly into the camera, “everyone would still believe Phillip Drake paintedThe Madonna. I’m only sorry my husband isn’t here to see the truth finally coming out.”

Tears stream down both of our cheeks. I’m pretty sure they’re tears of joy.

When we finally look up and at the monitor, Oprah’s smiling. Her eyes are shiny with unshed tears.

“Thank you so much,” I say to Oprah. “For finally righting this wrong.”

Grand brushes a tear off her cheek. “I wish I had the words to let you know how very grateful I am.”

“It is truly my pleasure,” Oprah replies. “I’m just glad to be able to help set the record straight and see you finally get the recognition of your talent that you deserve.

“How about you, Sydney? Which do you prefer—pretending to kick butt and solve crimes or actually doing it?”

“Hmmm.” I blink in surprise. “Great question.”

Oprah laughs. “Thanks for the validation.”

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