Fake It
Smash.
Yes, another mash of glass and milk on the linoleum. The one time he chooses a thin glass cup that’s already lasted a mildly surprising eight years, over the Cars plastic cup.
But we get over it.
Carrie emailed me early – “Want to model for us…?”
I didn’t know the extent required, but I agreed. Desperate times. Open-face fish sandwiches, laundry, and a thick stack of school books later – where we learned about a swamp in southern Missouri…
It was an easy afternoon.
Puck and I arrived on a mild hour where Lucia and Carrie were already at work around a couch stacked high with Goodwill finds. I caught innings downtown between oversized blouses and mascara scrubbed into my hairline. All I needed was a hinted stab of silent acting for the filming.
Mom worked the kitchen in her rose-print apron. Steam rose from the frying pan – beef and seasoning – until Carrie requested she move the frying pan and the steam out of the shot.
“Thank you! I love you!” Lucia called to Mom around the corner.
Mom is always obliging to all of our schemes.
Joe shot half the footage himself from behind the Flip. A very sleepy Joe in faded blue sweatshirt and jeans who clocked back in sometime after one o’clock in the morning. And even Dad reluctantly subbed as a step-in role on the driveway between stacking wood by the shed from the old dead tree. Linnea hid out of the way with a plate of chocolate chip cookie dough and rearranged her room.
Three hours later, Carrie began madly piecing footage for the first mock-up while Mom served chip dip – layers of sour cream, spiced meat, black olives, tomatoes, refried beans, and shredded cheddar, with tortilla chips, and sliced peppers. All around another viewing of “Star Trek”. Francis worked a shift at the YMCA and missed out on dip…
“Bye, honey, I love you,” Lucia sent him off.
Joe waited long enough to shovel out a double plate for himself, sandwiched around half-dozing with a cat on his stomach under the kitchen table. Yes – under – the kitchen table. [You live here long enough, and things like this, don’t even make you wonder.] Before driving out to Kirk for another BSF Monday night.
“Bye, sweetie pie, I love you,” Lucia sent him off too.