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Wednesday, August 26, 2015

87 Born to Make the Kill

“I don’t read minds but perhaps. You might remember me if I remind you of a little kiss I gave you a few weeks ago.”

Now it came clear. The opening line of this conversation was the line Ansell Parker had delivered on the set just before he kissed her—“You’re such a beautiful girl, well, woman, obviously.”

“Ansell? Ansell Parker?”

She looked at Cindy again. Her eyes were about the size of the pumpkin pie her mom had baked. Cindy mouthed the words, “Ansell Parker?” Amy nodded her head and gave her sister a wink.

“Yes. I just signed a new movie contract and I’m looking for my newest costar. Would you be interested?”

“Why would you want me? Why Amy Westerhill? Until all this happened, no one knew who I was. I was just a nameless extra. Even that day on your set I was the dead girl. You don’t even know if I have talent.”

“Actually I do and you’re feisty too. I like that. Amy, I’ve watched you on national TV over the last couple of weeks. You’re a natural. The camera loves you. But I’ve done my research. Guess what I’ve found?”

“I have no idea. A playbill from my high school?”

“No … that sounds interesting, but … actually I found a pilot you did a couple years ago. You remember that?”

How could she forget? That unaired pilot for the after school market was supposed to launch her film career. She thought it lost in obscurity. “That? I only had one line.”

“And I only have one question, Amy. How many takes did they shoot for that one line?”

“One.”

“See? I told you you’re a natural. My instincts are rarely off. If you’re willing to give it a try, I’d like to meet with you after the holiday.”

“You’re taking quite a risk.”

“Amy, I find that we are defined by the risks we take, not by our hesitations. I’ll pick you up at LAX on Monday afternoon. The plane ticket is already purchased, and a messenger will deliver it before the weekend’s over.”

“That seems rather presumptuous, Mr. Parker. The last guy who did that to me almost got me killed.”

“No one’s trying to kill you now. I’m just offering you a new life. Will I see you on Monday?”

It had only been four weeks since Tony Alonso had made just such an unbelievable offer to her. She remembered thinking she wanted to be discovered because of her talent, and how pissed she had been with her agent who only saw her as a commodity. She had jumped at Tony’s offer because she thought she was that good and that deserving.

Something about Ansell Parker, though, had a ring of honesty. True, her escape brought her to national prominence—her fifteen minutes of fame—but Ansell needed talent not notoriety. She remembered on the set that day just after the promise kiss that he’d taken the time to congratulate her on the scene. Did he see it then?

Amy looked back to Cindy. She couldn’t have fit a bigger smile on her face if she tried. Dad stood at the end of the table with a stack of plates ready to set them up on the bed-sheet table-cover. He grinned out from under his dirty St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. But her mother, who stood by the kitchen sink with her hands on her hips, wore an expected condescending look.

“Mr. Parker, I’ll see you Monday,” Amy said and hung up the phone.

“Ansell Parker?” Cindy screamed with a giddy laugh.

“Yes, Ansell Parker,” Amy said. “Now, Dad, before you put those plates on the table, I have something for Mom. I’ll just be a moment.”

Amy slipped out through the kitchen door and went down the hall to her old bedroom. She pulled a giftwrapped package from her blue suitcase and turned. Her mom stood in the doorway. Amy didn’t want a confrontation, but from her mother’s judgmental expression, whether it was today, next week or next year, she knew this conversation was inevitable.

“Mom, I know I’m not the daughter you wanted me to be. My high school years were a rough patch for both of us. But I’m becoming the woman I want to be. I’m almost 19 now. I’m sure that doesn’t sound very old to you, but remember you and dad got married when you were about my age. I’ve learned a lot being away the last couple of years, and that last week of October I gained a whole new perspective on life. Mom, I thought I’d never see you again. But here I am. I made it. For that I’m thankful, not just because it’s Thanksgiving day, but because I’m here under our roof with the people I love most. The thing is, Mom, I don’t know if it was circumstance or your God who saved me.”

“Our God,” her mom interjected. “Why can’t you say ‘our God?’”

That was the question. It didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up. Today was a day of thanks. But then it had never seemed like the right time. It had been the root of the bitterness between them all these years. A truth her mother never knew. A truth she may never accept. She decided to go on. “Mom … Do you remember when I was fourteen and I asked to beg off my chores for one afternoon so I could spend it with a friend?”

“Yes,” her mom said with a quick bite at the response as if it had happened yesterday.

“I lied then and told you it was a girlfriend, but it was Alex Daniels. We went on a bike ride.”

“Reverend Daniels’ boy?”

“Yes, the same boy who the Sunday before gave a short sermon on Youth Day on morality.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I don’t expect you would,” Amy said with an even tone, “and I wouldn’t have either since it was more than four years ago. But how can I forget his hypocrisy?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mom, I’ve never told this to anyone, not Dad, not Cindy, and especially not you because it was so traumatic. But if I tell you now maybe it’ll help you understand me.”

“What is the great secret, Amy?”
_____
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