Page 5 of Mr. Fixer Upper
She sighed into her pillow. Soon she would be able to take that experience and apply it to something more important, more personal. And far, far away from Gannon.
CHAPTER THREE
The Russes reminded Paige of a South Carolina-based Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Wispy white hair and ruddy cheeks, the two were rarely ever not smiling. The joy appeared to be genetic, spilling over into the second and third generations. It was a full house, and Paige was wrangling the chaos.
“So tomorrow,” Paige said, handing Phil and Delia copies of the layman-friendly call sheet. “We’ll be arriving around seven a.m. to set everything up with the intent to start shooting no later than eight. That means we need everyone,” she circled her finger around the crowded living room, “here by seven-thirty for Gannon and Cat when they come knocking.”
The “surprise” scene was a bit of not-so-real reality. The families already knew they were chosen by the show. They had already spent hours on the phone with various producers and assistants nailing down the details of their backstory, their cause, and what issues needed to be resolved with their homes. In the twenty-four hours before shooting, they worked with more crew to pack up items that weren’t necessary to and in the way of shooting. Everything was shipped off to a local storage facility for the duration of the shoot.
The families were strictly instructed by Paige to be at the home at the predetermined time so they could all answer the door with proper enthusiasm. They protected the slim surprise factor by making sure the first time families met with the Kings was on camera and that the crowd of volunteers that appeared were full of friends and neighbors.
It was a lot of preparation for a two-minute door-knocking scene that was usually shot nearly a dozen times.
“Okay, kids,” Paige said turning her attention to the grandkids in the room. Tomorrow we’re going to need to see your best surprise faces.” She pointed at a little girl with a skinned elbow and freckles on her nose. “Molly, let’s see your surprise face.”
Molly obliged with an expression of utter shock, and Paige applauded.
A little boy with eyes the color of denim tugged at her hand.
“Are you going to fix Pop-Pop’s house?” The face was a killer, all big eyes and round cheeks. He was definitely going to get some screen time.
Paige knelt down. “That’s the plan, Trevor. Is there anything special you think we should fix?”
He nodded, his expression earnest. “Pop-Pop likes popcorn.”
Paige pursed her lips. “Okay. So popcorn for Pop-Pop.”
A lithe brunette in a Gamecocks sweatshirt laughed and joined them. Paige searched her memory banks for a name.Susan, she recalled. Phil and Delia’s middle child. “When Trevor has sleepovers at Pop-Pop and Grammy’s, they make popcorn and watch movies. But Dad’s air popper broke last month, so it’s been nothing but microwavable stuff.”
“It’s gross,” Trevor sighed.
Paige nodded. “Well, I’ll see what we can do to solve Pop Pop’s popcorn problem. Now, what happens when you see the TV cameras?”
“I pretend they’re not there,” Trevor recited.
“Good job. So the only thing left—and this is really important—what kind of surprised face can you make?”
His solemn expression transformed into one of terror, eyes wide, mouth agape.
“Yeah, pretty sure that’sscaredsurprised. How abouthappysurprised?”
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Paige made it back to the motel before eleven and considered the day a success. Everyone was briefed. All the un-necessaries had been moved to Big Bob’s Climate Controlled Self Storage. And the local crew was ready to start demo as soon as they were cleared to go. They were as prepared as possible, even though she knew by experience that every shoot was destined to run into disaster regardless of preparedness.
She changed out of her jeans and pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank before yanking back the bedspread and settling back against the pillows with her laptop.
Paige rechecked the call sheet and returned a few non-emergency emails that had trickled in while she was on set. She checked the time and texted Cat.
Make it to the motel?
The reply was instantaneous.Here and ready to party!
Maybe you should go to bed instead. Early call tomorrow.
Yes, Mom.
Paige smirked. Some looked at her job as that of a glorified babysitter. But to her, she was the details keeper. She was double-checking the releases and updating her notes when her stomach grumbled.
