The Postman Always Purls Twice Page 9

  “I’m still wearing the same styles since high school. I guess I’m not old enough to figure that one out.”

  That was true, Maggie thought. Though she did wonder what Phoebe would think twenty years from now, seeing her streaked hair and piercings. Or maybe she would still dress that way. She was very much her own person.

  Phoebe picked up her coffee again. “I guess it’s fun for her fans to see the old photos. And read about her memories growing up here.”

  “And generate some positive publicity. After the fire,” Maggie noted.

  It seemed the movie crew had been in the news every day since they’d come to town. Reporters who had been on the set Saturday had witnessed the light fixture fall and added that to their fluff story about the village being used as a location for the big feature film.

  Then there was the fire, just a few days later.

  Not to mention the stalker who had cornered Jennifer at the shop Monday night and crept up as close as the star’s hotel room door the night after. That situation had not made the news, effectively contained by the powers that reigned. But it would be equally newsworthy, if it had been discovered, Maggie thought.

  Phoebe glanced over the article once more. “They interviewed Heath O’Hara and Trina Hardwick. And Nick Pullman, too. They asked him what it’s like to direct his wife in a love scene.”

  “That’s a good one. What did he say?” Maggie asked curiously.

  “ ‘We’re all professionals and close friends. We actually have a good laugh afterward.’ ” Phoebe looked up at Maggie. “Do you think that’s true? He doesn’t feel the least twinge of jealousy watching his wife kiss a hunk like Heath?”

  Maggie wondered about that herself, considering Nick’s hot temper. “Who knows? If he does, it’s unlikely he’d ever admit it to a reporter.”

  “True.” Phoebe closed the newspaper and stretched. “Time to get cracking on our summer tanks and cropped tops. It’s heating up out there.” She picked up the paper and fanned herself.

  She’s mocking me, Maggie realized, though she couldn’t take offense. She actually had to smile. She was glad to see Phoebe in better spirits. Moving past the disappointment about her thwarted acting ambitions already.

  “Yes, it is. I hear the mercury will hit the midfifties today. We should serve the class umbrella drinks. But we’ll have to make do with tea and coffee. Let’s get ready. It’s a short day. It’s going to fly by,” Maggie predicted.

  And so it did. The trucks were already lining up on Main Street as Maggie closed out the register at three. A few of the movie crew people came into the shop, with their ubiquitous clipboards and headsets.

  Maggie gently chased out the last of her customers and headed home. She and her friends had agreed to meet back at the shop at seven. Alicia had warned in her email that waiting in between takes was sometimes tedious and they ought to bring something to do as a diversion. Like their knitting.

  An ironic twist, considering they would usually be sitting together on any other Thursday night for their knitting group meeting. This time, they’d be watching a movie being filmed . . . . with a knitting group in it. Like looking in a mirror, inside a mirror, inside a mirror.

  Maggie didn’t dwell on the confusing notion very long. She really didn’t have time.

  When Maggie returned to the shop at seven, equipment trucks and actors’ trailers were parked in a row along Main Street again. The yellow sawhorses and film crew security guards were stationed around the shop, as they had been on Saturday. A group of fans hung around on the sidewalk, but far fewer than she’d seen on Saturday morning. Maybe the good citizens of Plum Harbor had already grown immune to the lure of celebrities in their midst. Or since it was a weeknight, most were at home, cleaning up dinner dishes, helping kids with homework, and getting to bed at a decent hour.

  She met her friends across the street from the shop. No one had dressed up for the event, except Suzanne—of course. She looked stylish in a long black skirt, black boots, and a big cream-colored cowl-neck sweater. Not to mention freshly blown-out hair and a new manicure.

  “You look ready for the red carpet, Suzanne,” Lucy noted.

  Suzanne shrugged. “I couldn’t resist dressing a bit for Heath. I don’t want to look all raggedy when I ask for his autograph.”

  Just then, Phoebe appeared in the drive next to the shop. She’d come down from her apartment from the outside entrance, though she easily could have gone down to the set from the stairs inside the building. She trotted across the street to meet them.

  “I’d rather go in with you guys than go down from my apartment. I don’t want to be standing there alone . . . with all those movie stars and officious crew people.”

  “And your name is on a list with a security guard at the gate,” she told them. “So it’s probably better that you didn’t just appear,” said Maggie. “Security is tight, from what Alicia told me in the email.”

  Maggie took the message out of her knitting bag, in case there was some question with the guard. Perhaps they’d tightened up entrance to the set since Jennifer’s flower delivery incidents and the falling light fixture. Or maybe it was always like this. She had no way to judge.

  The security guard looked over the email and checked the list for each name, then looked inside knitting bags and purses with a flashlight. No body pat-down or metal scanner like at the airport. Maggie was relieved at that.

  He finally let them pass and they entered the shop.

  It was buzzing with activity, but not quite as frantic as Saturday.

  A section toward the back of the shop was set off for the scene, circled by the big lights on tripod stands. Overhead hung a microphone hanging from a long pole. Front and center, a big camera on a rolling mechanism with a seat was positioned next to a canvas chair that said “Pullman” on the back.

  She saw Jennifer standing nearby, talking with her husband, Nick, and Trina. Both the actresses were in full makeup and outfitted in character. Jennifer wore a beige turtleneck and a nubby brown cardigan with patch pockets that all but camouflaged her perfect figure. The big sweater definitely looked handmade, found in a thrift shop by some costume designer, Maggie suspected, along with a brown wool skirt.

  Is that what Hollywood thinks knitting store owners look like—dowdy, timid librarians? Is that what I look like? she thought with horror. The cliché of a librarian, actually. All the librarians Maggie knew dressed very fashionably.

  Maggie stared down at herself, relieved to see a stylish—even sexy—dark red cardigan with a draped neckline and hem, designer jeans, and black suede boots.

  Never underestimate the power of a cliché.

  Trina wore a much more glamorous outfit than Jennifer’s, a tailored satin blouse, with several buttons undone, slim black pants, and stiletto heels. Huge hoop earrings could have doubled as bracelets, and her cocktail ring would have come in handy for self-defense. Layers of mascara and a slash of vibrant red lipstick were bold accents to Trina’s heavy stage makeup.

  “I guess Trina is playing a ‘Real Housewife of Plum Harbor’ role,” Suzanne whispered.

  “If her film career stalls out, she’d definitely have a chance in reality TV,” Lucy murmured back.

  Just then, Jennifer strolled over to greet them, along with a young man Maggie could not recall seeing before. He wasn’t dressed in the movie crew uniform, no headset or black T-shirt. He wore a light blue sweater with jeans, had thick, reddish brown hair, and large glasses that gave him a serious, intellectual air. He carried a movie script, Maggie noticed, and so did Jennifer.

  “You made it. That’s great . . . Did Alicia tell you? I told Theo about the knitting group, and he worked it into the scene.”

  “Yes, she mentioned that,” Maggie replied.

  “Too bad he couldn’t come to the shop to observe before he did the revision, but we had to call the extras and do the costumes on the fly.” Jennifer paused and turned to her companion. “Theo, this is Maggie Messina, the owner
of this beautiful shop. These ladies are her friends and knitting group. Theo is Nick’s son. He’s done a lot of work on this script. Really brought it along. He’s very, very talented,” Jennifer added effusively.

  Though the way her glance darted to the side as she delivered the compliment made Maggie wonder if she really believed it.

  “Nice to meet you.” Theo nodded politely without quite making eye contact. He seemed shy. Or maybe just anxious, Maggie thought. Certainly eager to be on his way. Quickly dismissing them as fans and “looky-loos”? Maybe he had important work to do before they started filming. Everyone on the set seemed a bit keyed up, she noticed.

  “I’d better get to work. Alicia will show you where to sit.” Jennifer turned to her assistant, who had appeared like a loyal pet and stayed with the knitting group once the star left to join her husband and Trina on the set.

  “I saved a good spot back here.” Alicia led them to a circle of plastic folding chairs about midway through the shop, off to one side and a few yards back from the set.

  “Hang out as long as you like. There’s plenty to eat and drink. Please help yourself.” She pointed to a table near the front door, laden with catering trays—sandwiches, cookies, bottled drinks, coffee, tea, and other snacks. “They’re doing a last check of the sound and lighting for Jen and Trina. In a few minutes, the lights will dim and you’ll hear ‘Quiet on the set.’ An assistant director will check the sound and another one will make sure the camera is rolling. Then they’ll announce the scene and the take number. Be superquiet until you hear someone say, ‘Cut.’ Nick can flip out if he thinks the actors are being distracted,” she added in a whisper.

  Maggie’s friends listened to the instructions with solemn expressions. Even Suzanne paid complete attention.

  “Can we knit? When they’re not filming anything?” Maggie didn’t want to upset Nick Pullman with the sound of clicking needles. Maybe the people who were supposed to be knitting on the set were using silent knitting needles. Was there such a thing?

  Alicia smiled. “Please do. You’ll have plenty of time for that. There’s a lot of downtime between takes. I’ll be back later to say hello again. And maybe finally get my knitting lesson?” she added hopefully. Maggie noticed the large bandage on her hand was gone, though she did see a nasty-looking scab, stained with iodine marking the spot.

  “Anytime. We’ll be right here,” Maggie promised.

  Maggie watched Alicia scamper back toward the set. Jen was already standing on her mark, turning her face this way and that while someone with a light meter waved it around her head. Alicia stood just outside the circle of light, watching.

  Alicia was a dear girl and worked so hard. It would be impossible to describe her duties. Most seemed to be anticipating Jennifer Todd’s every need. Part secretary, part mind reader, part . . . extra brain.

  Maggie wondered if Alicia had career plans beyond this job. Right now, she was paying her dues, as they say. Jen had mentioned that her last assistant had gone on to write for TV. Alicia would certainly have the necessary connections to do something in film or television. Maggie guessed most young people took a job like that to network, and others were simply lured by the glamorous atmosphere. It wasn’t clear where Alicia fit on that question.

  “Are we all clear on proper movie set etiquette?” Maggie asked the group.

  “Perfectly,” Dana answered for the group. She already had her knitting out and was lining up her needles. Suzanne had brought along her knitting bag but paid it little mind, her gaze darting in all directions, watching the activity on the set, but most likely on the lookout for her idol, Heath O’Hara. Who had not showed up yet. Maggie wondered if he would be acting in any scenes being filmed tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t show up at all.

  That would be a great disappointment for Suzanne, and Lucy. Though she wasn’t quite as vocal about her star crush.

  Lucy and Phoebe got up together. “We thought this was a good time to grab some snacks,” Phoebe said as they strolled toward the food table. “We’ll bring something back for you.”

  “I hope they don’t bring back too much. It all looks fattening,” Maggie said to the others as she set out her knitting.

  “I bet there are lots of healthy choices up there,” Dana replied. “Like the green drinks Jennifer has flown in from California? I see a few of those.”

  “That’s true. But I have a feeling the stars hoard the really pricey stuff in their trailers. Like fine wine,” Maggie said.

  “You’re probably right,” Dana whispered, softly laughing.

  Nick was on the set, alone with Jennifer. Maggie noticed Trina at the catering table, selecting a bottle of sparkling water from a large tub of cold drinks. As Nick spoke quietly, Jennifer nodded with a thoughtful expression. She had a pile of button cards spread on the table and was showing Nick how she’d use them as a prop.

  Nice touch, Maggie thought. She felt gratified she’d contributed this small detail.

  Nick turned to Trina next, who now stood near the camera. Nick seemed to be reminding her where she needed to enter the scene and to stand. He held her by the shoulders and led her to her place.

  She asked him a question. He laughed and swept back his thick silver hair. He was a very handsome man, Maggie realized. When he smiled. He had a lionlike look to his features, straight white teeth, and a tall, strong build. He looked about ten or more years older than Jennifer, and ten more than that compared to Trina.

  He stood with one hand on his hip, chatting with the younger actress. Then leaned forward and whispered something, their faces very close.

  Not just their faces. Maggie noticed his hand touch her hip, giving her a pat.

  Trina didn’t seem a bit surprised by this encouraging, even intimate, touch, as if Nick were a coach sending a star player into the big game.

  Maggie wondered how Jennifer felt watching them. She was fiddling with a bundle of large safety pins Maggie used to hold stray buttons together or mark a spot in a project. Maggie noticed that Jennifer did glance at Nick and Trina, and accidently stuck herself with a pin. She put her fingertip to her lips a moment and frowned. Because of the tiny pinprick or the sight of her husband flirting, Maggie could not be sure.

  But Jennifer seemed very grounded. She probably took this behavior in stride, as if it was part of her husband’s job as a director, a way of bonding with a leading lady. Trina was a fragile flower and needed reassurance, Maggie guessed. Not like Jennifer, who seemed more confident.

  Nick soon returned to a spot by the camera. He spoke to the cinematographer, who was operating the camera, then stepped back, just beyond the bright stage lights. One of his many assistants was talking to the extras who played the knitting group, and soon walked off the set as well.

  A few moments later, the assistant director—or perhaps the assistant to the assistant? Maggie was not clear at all on the pecking order—called out, “Quiet on the set.”

  Lucy and Phoebe raced back to their seats just as the lights were dimmed. Phoebe muffled the rattling sound from a bag of chips next to her sweater. Maggie gave her a sharp look. She didn’t want to get kicked out just as things were getting started.

  Luckily, her friends were not the only ones grabbing a last-minute snack. She saw an assistant run over to Nick Pullman and hand him something. It looked like a cold drink. He twisted the top off the bottle and took a big gulp.

  Dana and Lucy put their knitting down and everyone faced the set just as the digital clapboard appeared.

  “Scene fifty-seven, take one,” a young woman standing beside the camera announced. She held up the clapboard a moment, then quickly stepped aside.

  “Sound . . . Camera rolling,” another voice said quietly. There was silence for a moment. Then someone said, “Action.”

  Nick Pullman stood next to the camera, gazing intently at the set. Jennifer seemed engrossed in her button-sorting task, oblivious to all the lights, equipment, and onlookers. Maggie had never realized how many people
and distractions were around the actors while they were being filmed. They needed amazing powers of concentration to transport themselves to some distant, imagined reality, didn’t they?

  Something about Jennifer’s expression and posture was suddenly transformed. As if another personality had floated into her body. Before she’d spoken a single word of dialogue, she projected the essence of a totally different person. She really was a very talented actress.

  Trina walked toward Jennifer. Her steps were sinuous and sultry, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. She stood in front of Jennifer, casting a shadow across the table. She didn’t seem any different from the Trina who had exited the limo Saturday in all her glory. But maybe that was enough.

  Jennifer slowly looked up. Her eyes widened. “Ms. Fuller . . . I didn’t see you come in.”

  Trina didn’t reply. Then she slammed a Louis Vuitton knitting tote on the table. Maggie had only seen such accessories in magazines and at knitting shows. She certainly didn’t sell them in her store.

  “I came for my lesson,” Trina announced in her gravelly tone. “Or maybe to teach you one?”

  Jennifer stood up straighter. “It’s not what you think . . .”

  Trina laughed. “How stupid do you think I am? Do you think you’re the first?” She leaned closer and whispered harshly. “I’m not worried. Tyler is playing with you. He’s done this before.”

  The button cards slipped from Jennifer’s fingers. Her mouth grew tight and she blinked.

  “Cut!” Nick jumped forward. “Super! Both of you. Great work.” He smiled and nodded in approval. “But I guess in the next take, I’d like you try it a little more . . .”

  Maggie couldn’t hear the rest of his critique. She sat back and looked at her friends.

  “What do you think? They don’t let the actors say very much, do they?”

  “No, but this is fun.” Phoebe tore open a bag of pretzels and munched a handful.

  “It is fun,” Dana agreed. As soon as the lights went back on, her needles had jumped into action. “But it’s amazing they can make an entire movie at this rate. Maybe they need to warm up a little before he lets them go full throttle?”