Flipped Out Page 4

  “I’m not a doctor anymore,” Derek reminded me. “Besides, doctors hurt people every day. You think it doesn’t hurt someone to slice their stomach open to take out their spleen?”

  “I’m sure it does. But I know you wouldn’t kick a poor defenseless kitten, even one that was trying to rip out your throat.”

  Derek snorted. “That kitten’s about as defenseless as Attila the Hun. You should have named him that.”

  “He doesn’t look like an Attila, even if he acts like one. Maybe I should have named him Ivan.”

  “That’d be fitting. Though it’s too late now, yeah?”

  Yeah, it was. The cat was Mischa, no matter how appropriate a name change to Attila the Hun or Ivan the Terrible would seem.

  I was happy that he liked me and thrilled that he was friendlier than Jemmy and Inky and actually enjoyed being a pet, but I really couldn’t have him attacking my boyfriend every time Derek came over. If he constantly contrived to launch himself at Derek and tried to hurt him, I’d have to take measures.

  Making a mental note to stop by Dr. Piedmont’s office and ask about options—something other than declawing—I put the cat out of my mind. Wilson had shouldered the camera and was ready to go, while Ted was messing around with wires snaking here and there across the dusty floor. Adam was rehearsing. “Hi, and welcome to Flipped Out! I’m Adam Ramsey.” Big smile at the imaginary camera. “Hi, and welcome to Flipped Out! I’m Adam Ramsey,” with a different inflection this time, followed by that same toothy grin. “Hi, and welcome to Flipped Out! . . .”

  Nina and Fae had their heads together over the clipboard, bleach blond and dyed black side by side. They were almost the same height, allowing for Nina’s four-inch heels, and their expressions were identical as they peered at the scrawled notes.

  “Ready when you are, Neen,” Wilson called. Nina held up a finger.

  Wilson turned to me and Derek. “Later today we’ll drive around town, get some exterior shots.” He had a faint Southern drawl to his voice. “Y’all won’t be needed for that. We’ll end up back here, and I’ll shoot the exterior of the house then, when the sun’s high and the sky’s blue.”

  This early, there was still a little bit of a haze in the air.

  “Right now, we’ll introduce the two of you and get ‘before’ footage of the house. Tomorrow we’ll start shooting the tear-out and any work you start to do. You sure the two of y’all ’ll be able to get it all done on time?”

  He looked from Derek to me and back, his eyes a bright hazel in his lined face.

  “We’ll have help,” Derek said. “Kate, who runs the bed and breakfast where you’re staying, will be here tomorrow to help Avery paint the kitchen cabinets. Probably her daughter will stop by, too. And I’ve got her stepson lined up to help with the heavy lifting, as well as a few people coming to do some landscaping.”

  Wilson nodded. “It’s a big job.”

  “We’ve done bigger. The time is the biggest issue.”

  “That’s why they call the show Flipped Out!” Wilson said with a grin, just as Nina raised her head and her voice to address all of us.

  “Looks like we’re ready to go. Will, I want you to start over here by the door, pan the room, then focus on Adam. You’ll be next to the fireplace, Adam. You two”—she looked at Derek and me—“head into the kitchen and get ready to do your spiel once Adam introduces you.”

  “Spiel?”

  “What you did for me earlier. Here’s the kitchen, this is where we’ll do blah, blah, blah.”

  “Right.” Derek managed not to wince at the “blah, blah, blah.” We ducked out of the room but stayed in the dining room, where we’d be able to keep up with what was going on.

  “And . . . action,” Nina said.

  I made sure to stay out of sight while Wilson panned the living room—it wouldn’t do for us to be peeking around the archway and ruining the shot—but once Adam started speaking, we knew Wilson had finished his pan and was focused on Adam, so we leaned into the living room to watch.

  “Hi,” Adam said, grinning dementedly, “and welcome to Flipped Out! I’m Adam Ramsey, your host. Today we’re here in Waterford, Maine—”

  “Cut,” Nina said. “It’s Waterfield, Adam. Do it again.”

  Adam grimaced. Wilson went back to the doorway. Derek and I ducked out of sight, and it all started over again. And again. Adam couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. He was very handsome, he probably photographed extremely well, he had a nicely modulated voice, but he couldn’t remember details to save his life. If it wasn’t the name of the town that slipped his mind, it was another word he mispronounced or stumbled over. After five or six takes, he had finally got the introduction and the name of the town and everything else just right, but when he moved into the kitchen to introduce Derek and me, the problems started all over again.

  “Here we are with this week’s team of renovators, Erik Ellis and—”

  “Cut,” Nina said, her voice beginning to show signs of wear around the edges. “It’s Derek, Adam. Not Erik. Do it again.”

  Wilson looked put out. Adam looked pained. “Sorry, Neen.”

  Nina was making an almost visible effort to be nice. “I’m sure you are, Adam. Just do it again, please.”

  Wilson moved back to the doorway, Derek and I exchanged a glance, and Adam took a deep breath and blew it out again, flashing another broad smile. “Here we are with this week’s team of renovators, Derek Ellis and Ivory Baker—”

  “Cut,” Nina said. “It’s Avery, Adam. Derek and Avery. Not Erik and Ivory. Do you need a break?”

  The not-so-subtle subtext was, “Take a break, Adam. And come back ready to get it right.”

  “Yeah,” Adam said, “I think maybe I do. I’ll be right back.”

  He left through the laundry room and headed into the backyard, where he’d probably either punch a tree to make himself feel better, or wander around for a couple of minutes, kicking at tufts of grass and muttering. Hopefully he’d come back inside in a better frame of mind. If not, there was no way we’d be able to finish the house in a week. Not if every camera appearance took Adam at least six takes.

  “He’s a disaster,” Wilson said bluntly, not even waiting until the back door had closed completely.

  Nina nodded. “But he’s all we’ve got. For now, he’ll have to do.”

  “You could do it.” Wilson shifted his chewing gum—or maybe it was tobacco—to the other side of his mouth.

  Nina smiled. “I haven’t done on-camera work for years, Will. You know that.”

  “I also know you were great at it. Christ, Neen, anything’s better than that . . . that . . .” He seemed unable to come up with a word that was bad enough to describe Adam’s incompetence.

  “I miss Stuart,” Fae said. She and Ted had appeared in the doorway to the dining room as soon as Adam headed outside, and now she leaned there, like a wilted orchid. Derek and I exchanged a glance. It was interesting but somewhat uncomfortable to be privy to the interior workings of the camera crew. Fae added, “I wish he hadn’t gotten hurt.”

  “We all wish he hadn’t gotten hurt,” Nina said. “And not just because it means we’re stuck with Adam. He’s got the looks, the voice, the charm.... How hard can it be to remember the words?” She sighed.

  “At this rate, we’ll be here all morning shooting the introductions.”

  “I can make a card,” Ted suggested, his voice surprisingly deep and resonant, at odds with his weedy exterior. “With the pertinent information on it. Names, details.”

  “It may come to that. Or we can do the introductions as a voice-over and you can do it.” Nina grinned.

  Ted blushed. “No thanks. I’m happier behind the scenes.”

  “You’d still be behind the scenes. It’s just your voice that wouldn’t be.”

  Ted said, “Maybe Fae can do it.”

  The girl shook her head. “I like my job,” she said.

  “It’ll be all right.” Nina glanced toward t
he back door to make sure Adam hadn’t come back in. “He’ll get it. And after this morning, he’ll have less to do. Just a question here and there to set up whatever Avery and Derek say. How are you two doing?” She turned to us.

  “Fine,” Derek said.

  “We haven’t done anything yet,” I added.

  “I know. And I’m sorry about that. Adam’s new. He’ll get it.”

  “Sure,” Derek said. He’s a nice guy, always happy to look on the bright side. This once, I wasn’t able to. I doubted that Adam would get it, and I thought we’d still be standing here at five o’clock this afternoon.

  Out in the living room, someone knocked on the open door, and then we heard the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors. “Yoo-hoo!” a musical voice called. “Anyone home?”

  Nina arched her brows. “Expecting someone?”

  It was Melissa, of course, closely followed by Tony the Tiger. She arrived in the doorway looking like a million bucks, dressed in another designer outfit, this one a silk dress from Roberto Cavalli, and another pair of sexy sandals. Her long, tanned legs were bare, her makeup was perfect, and every brilliant tooth was on display. So was the enormous diamond.

  “Hi,” she cooed, looking around the room, “I’m Melissa James. Derek and Avery’s Realtor.”

  Behind her, Tony appeared, taking in the kitchen at a glance. He spared a nod for Wilson and one for Ted, a smile for Fae, who blushed and ducked her head, and one for me; I didn’t. Then he noticed the last member of the crew.

  “Nina.”

  For a second, Nina Andrews looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her eyes flicked to Ted, to Melissa, to Derek and me . . . before she managed a smile. “Tony. Long time no see.”

  Huh, I thought.

  Of course, Adam chose this exact moment to reenter the scene as well. He came through the back door from the laundry with a confident spring in his step and a cocky smile on his face. “OK, folks,” he announced, “I’m ready to kick . . .”

  The atmosphere, so thick you could cut it with a buzz saw, must have hit him then, because he stopped short. The self-satisfied smirk faded as he took in the newcomers. After a second, he walked over to stand beside Nina. “What’s going on?”

  Nina made a visible effort to gather herself. She smiled, and it looked pretty good, but only until you noticed the strain showing in the tiny lines around her eyes. “Some friends of Derek and Avery’s stopped by to say hello. This is Melissa James, their Realtor, and Tony Micelli. What are you doing these days, Tony?”

  “Reporting the news for Portland’s channel eight,” Tony said, eyeing Adam while Adam eyed him.

  “Adam is the interim host of our show,” Nina explained, which made Tony stare all the harder. By now, Adam had noticed Melissa and was giving her a thorough inspection, while Ted was scowling at Tony. Wilson and Fae were doing some sort of silent communication across the room.

  “I guess you know each other,” I said, more to drop words into the uncomfortable silence than because I needed confirmation. It was obvious that Nina and Tony knew each other, and it looked as if Ted at least knew who Tony was, although Tony didn’t seem to have recognized Ted. “Tony owns this house.”

  “No kidding?” Ted said. Tony shook his head, looking around.

  “I grew up here. Haven’t lived here for years, though.”

  “Tony and I worked together once,” Nina said to the group at large. “More than twenty years ago now. My first assignment.”

  Tony nodded. “Mine, too.”

  “It was at one of those small Midwestern stations, the ones you use as a stepping-stone to bigger and better. He moved on, and so did I.” She shrugged.

  “You look good, Neen,” Tony said, his dark eyes appreciative. “And you’re a director now. Congratulations. Of course, I always knew you’d go on to do great things.”

  Nina smiled back, and this time it looked more natural. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Success must agree with you.”

  Tony preened, smoothing a hand over that slick, black hair, and then he must have noticed the way Melissa looked at him, because he reined himself in. “We don’t want to interrupt anything. I’m sure you’re going to be busy, since you’re here just for a week. Maybe we can grab dinner one night?”

  Nina’s eyes flicked around the circle again, but when not even Melissa objected, she gave in to the inevitable. “That’d be nice,” she said, while next to her, Adam scowled, and Ted tried to stare a hole in Tony, and Fae looked from Tony to Nina curiously.

  Melissa, never one to be outdone, flashed Adam a brilliant smile. “You know, if you need someone to show you around town, I’d be happy to help. I know this place like my own backyard.”

  Adam smiled, obviously flattered by the attention, but it was Nina who said, “That’d be wonderful, actually. We’ll be shooting some footage around town this afternoon, and if you wanted to show us some of the highlights, we wouldn’t say no.” She turned. “You, too, Tony. It’ll be good to have someone with us who’s used to camera work.”

  Melissa smiled, pleased. This must be exactly what she’d wanted: a chance to get her face on camera and the opportunity to hawk the benefits of living in Waterfield. Melissa won’t be happy until she has turned our pretty, picturesque little town into a big city with lots of people who need the help of a Realtor.

  “We just have a few more minutes here,” Nina added. “You ready to do this, Adam?”

  Adam nodded, determination in the line of his jaw. And whether it was because he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Melissa, or maybe in front of Tony, or whether the walk in the garden had flipped some switch in his head, he got every word right on the first try.

  “That’s a wrap,” Nina said, pleased, while Wilson wandered off to pan the remaining rooms with his camera, collecting “before” footage, and Ted started rolling up cables. She turned to Derek and me. “We’re done here for now. We’ll spend the rest of the afternoon shooting around town. Tomorrow morning, we’ll be back here to film the two of you in action. Make sure you’ve demoed whatever you need to, and you’re ready to work.”

  Derek and I spent the rest of the afternoon tearing things down and out. The Dumpster we’d ordered for the job had been dropped off last week, and we’d long ago started putting things into it. Derek hauled out the toilet and bathroom cabinet, and between us we removed the old kitchen counter and sink. Then Derek went at the floor tile in the bathroom with a hammer and chisel while I started removing all the kitchen cabinet doors for painting. It’s one of those tedious chores that is so tempting to skip, since it’s possible to paint the cabinets without removing the doors first, but the result is much better when the job is done right, so I made myself do it.

  Midafternoon, Kate and Shannon stopped by to see how things were progressing and to firm up plans for the next day. Kate had limited time to give us, as she had a house full of guests, but Shannon was fully available, since she wasn’t in school over the summer and her only job was helping out at the bed and breakfast.

  “We saw the TV crew filming on Main Street,” Kate greeted me when they walked into the kitchen at around three o’clock.

  I looked up from where I sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor wielding Derek’s battery-driven screwdriver. “They were here earlier. Shot some interior footage of the house and had Adam introduce Derek and me for the camera. And then Melissa and Tony Micelli showed up.”

  “We saw them.” Kate nodded. “Outside one of the antique stores on Main Street. Did you notice that rock on her finger? Wasn’t that the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen in your life?”

  “If it’s real,” Shannon said.

  “I’m sure it’s real,” her mother answered. “Melissa wouldn’t stand for anything less.”

  “I got a good look at it last night,” I said. “Tony popped the question at the Waymouth Tavern, I think.”

  “Quick work. It’s just over six months since they started dating.”

>   I nodded. Derek and I had been together for more than a year, and he hadn’t proposed yet. And it had taken Wayne something like five or six years to get himself engaged to Kate.

  “Anyway,” Kate said, “Melissa was on camera, talking to Adam Ramsey about why everyone should want to live in Waterfield, and waving that ring around. The glare almost blinded me.”

  Kate had moved here from Boston seven years ago, with then-thirteen-year-old Shannon, and she was no more excited than I was about Melissa’s attempts to turn Waterfield into the same thing we’d both left behind.

  “I figured she’d find a way to get her face on camera.” I went back to unscrewing the hinges on one of the kitchen cabinet doors. “What about Tony? Was he there?”

  “He was talking to Nina and to that young woman with the long, black hair and all the holes in her face,” Kate said. Shannon looked at her mom and rolled her eyes.

  “They’re piercings, Mom. Everyone has them.”

  “You don’t,” Kate said. She didn’t add, “Thank God,” but I could see the words clearly in the thought bubble above her head.

  Shannon shrugged. “I’m not much into body mutilation. And I don’t want to be seventy years old and have to explain to my grandchildren why grandma has tattoos and piercings all over her body.”

  Me, either. I have pierced ears, but that’s the extent of the body art so far. I prefer to make my statement with what I’m wearing instead.

  Not that that aspect of my personality has had a whole lot of play lately. While I was working for Philippe, making copies of staid, boring, authentic fabrics for his reproduction furniture, I had gotten into the habit of making some slightly wilder stuff for myself, just to keep my hand in. These days, working with Derek and spending so much time in jeans and T-shirts—stuff that’s easily replaced when it gets torn up or stained—it had been a long time since I’d made anything fun. Maybe I could create something funky for the cottage.

  Although with only a week to do it, and all the other work we had to do, it’d have to be something simple. Simple isn’t as much fun as complicated, although making something very simple look fabulous comes with some inherent challenges of its own. Roller shades for the windows, perhaps? Curtains? A long cushion and a bunch of pillows for the window seat in the dining room were already part of the plan, and as Derek had told Nina, I could whip up some pillows for the porch swing we planned to hang, as well, while I was at it. And—here was an idea—how about some gauzy curtains for the porch? Almost like mosquito netting in tropical climes; light and airy fabric suspended from a rail or rod running under the porch ceiling, pulled aside during the day—maybe even fastened with ribbons or tiebacks—but ready to be lowered when people wanted to sit on the porch at night. Mosquitoes can be bothersome in Maine in the summer, and something like that would keep them out. I don’t spend a lot of time sitting on Aunt Inga’s porch, since the mosquitoes like me too much for me to make my tempting self too available to the bloodsuckers. But I could imagine hanging something similar there, too, making an evening on the porch more appealing.