Page 9 of Holly Jolly July

Of course. I wouldn’t want you getting

in trouble. I’ll take two regular

lattes, please.

Chapter 3

Ellie

After a full day of blocking, going over the script, more blocking, photography, adjusting lighting and camera angles, and more blocking, we’re finally done for the day. Everyone is pooped and we haven’t even shot anything yet. Filming a movie has so much behind-the-scenes preparation that by the time they shout “Action!” you’re already spent. It’s a lot of work to keep energy levels up, but it’s a task I take on with pleasure.

There’s still a lot of day-one adrenaline and excitement between cast and crew, but as time goes on, more of the burden of keeping the Christmas spirit alive will fall on my shoulders. I’m prepared for it.

“Whoever wrote this script, I’m buying them a drink,” Julia croons while removing her fake eyelashes.

“Whoever castyouas my co-star, I’m buyingthema drink,” Oscar remarks, leaning close to Julia.

Julia laughs her musical laugh, and the rest of the team joins her. I laugh along too, because it’s just that contagious.

Marlene grips both of their upper arms with her talons. “First round is on us. We’ll bill the marketing department.”

“Oh yeah, party on, Garth!” I shout while doing a fake guitar solo in tribute toWayne’s World.

The group looks at me, pauses, then turns back to their conversation.

“The place down the street has great pizza, but stay away from the chicken wings,” Jimmie cautions, having grown up near here in Squiala First Nation.

The group moves en masse toward the stairs, me caught somewhere in the back, until we pile out onto the street. It’s midafternoon and still extremely hot, which makes my sweat-dampened Christmas sweater even more uncomfortable. I pull the neckline away from my chest and blow air over the girls. The group heads right, but my car is parked left.

“See you tomorrow, team!” I shout as they begin walking away while I wait for the lights to change. “Don’t party too hard, we have work to do!” They’re too caught up in their conversations to notice me, but that’s okay. We’ll all be together again tomorrow.

I should be going with them so we can bond, but unlike them, I can’t walk to my lodgings, and finding my way to where I’m staying in the dark and after a few drinks is a bad idea.

Everyone else is staying at the Royal, an old downtown hotel, but not me. There weren’t enough rooms for all of us, so the crew and lesser actors were moved to a different hotel several blocks away. When Marlene had called to notify me of the arrangements, at least I didn’t have to maintain a smile over the phone. She’d said she knew if anyone would understand being shifted around it would be me, so of course I did.

It’s not like I’m a lead.

Instead of being constantly reminded that I’d been punted from the fancy hotel where the cool kids are staying, I split the cost difference with production and booked a cute little Airbnb: a cozy cabin out in the woods.

This will be great.

Almost like a little mini vacation.

Plus, I won’t be distracted networking during my downtime and hobnobbing with the other talent. I can focus on my character and really get into my method acting.

To the others this may just be another movie, or maybe to Oscar it’s a step down from some of the more serious roles he’s played, but I’m still an up-and-comer with a lot to prove. I need every ounce of my attention on the two weeks ahead. I can’t be distracted by Julia and Oscar and bar drinks and questionable-but-tempting chicken wings.

After crossing the street, I plop myself into the front seat ofmy green Subaru and toss my purse onto the passenger side, cranking the AC. “Jingle Bell Rock” blasts from my Christmas CD. I bop my head and hum along as I buckle my seat belt, then throw it in reverse.

I sit up a little higher to see over the mountains of boxes piled up in my back seat. Check-in to my Airbnb wasn’t until four o’clock, so I had to leave everything in my car when I got in from Vancouver this morning.

I plug the address into my phone and follow Google’s directions down to the highway, heading east and singing Christmas karaoke the whole way. The city quickly fades into farmland, and the mountains to my right are still capped in snow despite the heat we’ve had these past few weeks. Ahead and to my left are more mountains, the Fraser Valley slicing through them like a river of green paradise. I can already feel the tension in my shoulders and neck relaxing as I take it all in.

I exit the highway and after a few more turns am thrust into a forest while scaling one of the mountains I’d seen in the distance ten minutes ago. I turn down my music so I can better read signage, the one I need appearing a few minutes down a winding road.

I turn onto the narrow, bumpy dirt driveway and after about five minutes of my car jiggling so much I’m worried a bolt will come loose, a cabin appears. The tiny wood-beam cabin is tucked beneath the shade of towering evergreens and nestled between colourful shrubs.

I wiggle in my seat. It’s perfect!

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