Page 16 of July Skies
He joked, but Karen was wondering the same thing. How far would Dahlia go to get the angle she searched for in this town?
What would Karen do to stop her from discoloring the town she loved so much? How would she protect the townsfolk who had finally found a little slice of paradise?
Or… was this really all a misunderstanding?That’s what I want to believe.Even at her age and political experience, Karen Rath still wanted to believe in the good in people. The thought of a crew coming to disparage their quaint little town, their slice of Heaven in an uncertain world, was both offensive and disheartening. What if, though… what if itwasa misunderstanding?
Surely, Karen could get to the bottom of this with one phone call. She was used to calling media outlets and setting stories straight. So why did the thought of dialing Dahlia’s private line make her nervous? Was it coming off as too adversarial? Too confrontational? Assuming the worst in an outsider who might simply be doing their due diligence to root out possible paths to follow? What did Karen know about the artistic filmmaking process, anyway?
I know enough to protect my townspeople.Women like Abby and Joan didn’t need the extra stress in their lives right now. Nor did Frankie need daily reminders that she was a black woman in small town Oregon. Also, the moms down at the park didn’t need to question what a film crew was about to do with footage of the kids. There was a fine line between letting someone do as they willed after the permits were granted… and then there was keeping a strict eye on what went on in her town.
Even if the woman in question was feisty and commanding enough to make the mayor shake in her flats. The worst part? Realizing that shelikedthat shaking. That Karen hadn’t experienced something like that in a long, long time.
Not since she first came out as a bisexual woman searching for more meaning in her life. Not since she left her ex-husband and brought her kids to this same piece of paradise that had changed so many other lives for the better.
“I can talk to her,” Christina volunteered. “If she’s going after Leigh Ann, it’s only a matter of time before she bugs other kids from school. Why not offer myself as tribute? I’ve got all your PR training, Mom. I know how to tell the straight story of this town, so to speak.”
“You are not talking to her,” Karen said with a snort. “Neitherof you are. I’ll be the only one in this family going through her, do you understand?”
Both of her children sat back, as if they couldn’t understand why Karen held such a stern view. “Yes, ma’am,” Xander said, with only a little sarcasm. “Although, may I remind you that I am over the age of…”
“No.You’re the mayor’s son. You know what that means.”
Karen anticipated the annoyance on Xander’s face. What she didn’t expect was for him to say, “At some point, Mom, you’re gonna have to let go. Even if it’s not today.”
If only she knew what he meant by that.
Chapter 10
DAHLIA
Two weeks into filming, conducting research, and soliciting interviews all over town, Aaron came down with the set-plague.
That’s what they called it when a member of the crew inevitably became too sick to continue. Sometimes, that person was Dahlia, who powered through whatever ailed her to finish the film, even if it meant carrying an extra jacket or puke bucket with her. She wasn’t ashamed to pop into the local hospital wherever they went. Nor was she afraid of a few medical charges, if it meant finishing on time. When it came to her crew, however, she was more forgiving. Especially in a town where the only doctor was currently off on her honeymoon.
Aaron spent a solid twenty-four hours puking into one of Waterlily House’s five toilets. When he wasn’t piled beneath a ton of blankets and swearing he saw his dead grandmother at his bedside, he was stumbling around, attempting to get work done before the Ice Queen sacrificed him to the filmmaking gods.There’s a Behind-the-Scenes shot.No, Dahlia wouldn’t fire a crewmember for coming down with a twenty-four-hour stomach bug. Except poor Aaron was still stick two days later. Without him to help on most of the sets, it took the rest of the crew three times as long to get anything done.
It also did not help that everyone was a tad concerned about him.
“He’s gotta go to the hospital,” Wayne said over dinner Wednesday night. The sounds of Aaron throwing up again serenaded them as they ate clam chowder out of a can. “Without the doctor in town, it’s the only thing we can do. He ain’t getting better on his own.”
“Yes, and we can’t risk him infecting everyone.” Dahlia had her suspicions that Aaron wasn’t contagious. She knew a few things about his medical history, and the poor guy unfortunately had some latent conditions. “Who’s volunteering to drive him to the ER tonight?”
The honor went to Kurt, who itched the get the hell out of town foranything,even if it included driving twenty miles to the county hospital with a sicko in the passenger seat. It had to be done, though. Aaron agreed to it when he passed out on the couch and muttered something about his kidneys hurting.Yes, off to the ER with you.Dahlia was relieved she didn’t have to do it. There was too much work to do at Waterlily House. Better if Wayne could hang back and help her. The man had the most experience on her crew, after all.
After they saw Aaron and Kurt off down the driveway, Dahlia returned with Wayne to discuss what to do in case one of their crew had to bow out of the production.
“I’ll have to bring in someone else, of course.” Dahlia chewed on the end of her pencil, the one writing down a lengthy list of names to contact for more interviews. They had spent that afternoon at Anem Singer’s house, where her parents made them afternoon tea and said nothing but praises about Paradise Valley. Every time Dahlia brought up being a religious minority, they looked at her as if they were fish floundering out of water.“Well, yes,”her father had said.“We are one of the only Jewish families in the city limits, but it’s not like that’s weird. We’ve got family in Portland. All over, really. We go see them about once or twice a month. Honestly, we like having a little distance from the people at the old synagogue.”If that was the quality of interviews they got for the rest of the month, Dahlia might as well submit the most boring documentary ever to the film festival circuit. It would be noThe Lives They Lost.
“Last I heard, a few people were banging down your door to get on the crew for this show.” Wayne cleared a spot for himself at the table before sitting down. “Yet you picked me and my ragtag crew of misfit males.”
“So you know they were women?”
“Women with a stake in this film, no less.”
“Then you know why I couldn’t have them tagging along.” Dahlia busied herself with the choice screenshots she had printed off at the library. She flipped through pictures of the parks, the hill, and the landmarks about town, but none of them spoke to her. Not when her head was filled with so much crap she’d have to call the Mr. Rooter advertised on the billboard outside of town.I see it every time we drive out of here. It’s burned into my retinas now.“They would bring too much bias to the production. I couldn’t have them constantly distracted by the aspects of their lives represented in this town.”
Wayne looked like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his boss’s mouth. “Bias? You’re kidding, right? If anything, it would’ve been a huge selling point that you had a majority-queer crew for this shoot. Was kinda surprised you didn’t go for that, since I know how careful you are of representation in your productions.”
Was that sarcasm? Wayne? Never. “If this is about what happened Monday…”
