Much Ado About Mother by Celia Bonaduce

Paula Deen of Landscaping. “Here is the key.”
    She handed Dymphna the key and walked toward the back porch of her own house.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œErinn, hi! It’s Cary!”
    Erinn sat down at her patio table with a thud. Cary was the supervising producer on the last two shows she had worked on, but it had been months since Erinn had heard from her. Maybe there was a new job. Could it be that she might have a job and a tenant by the end of the day and not have to admit to her sister that she’d been lying just to get out of housing their mother for an unforeseen amount of time? Erinn glanced up and watched Dymphna through the window of the guesthouse.
    Well, maybe at least a new job.
    â€œHello? Erinn? Are you there?” Cary’s voice brought Erinn back around.
    â€œYes!” she said, a little too loudly. “Hi, Cary. It’s good to hear from you.”
    â€œWell, I’ve been thinking about you lately. I would love to see you.”
    â€œAnd I, you,” Erinn said, wincing as she remembered Suzanna’s admonishment not to say arcane things like “And I, you” instead of “Me too.”
    â€œWell, that’s good, because I’m right around the corner!”
    â€œOn Montana?”
    â€œNo . . . the corner of your house.”
    Erinn looked up to see Cary, all six feet of her, loping into the backyard. Erinn, shocked, stood up and came down the porch stairs to greet her old boss. Erinn was not a hugger by nature but she knew there was no escaping Cary’s exuberant embrace.
    â€œI know this is crazy, but I was in the area and I just thought I’d stop in. I hope you’re not busy.”
    â€œOh, not at all. Not. At. All.” Erinn tried to convey in three words how desperate she was for a job.
    â€œThis place is such an oasis of calm,” Cary said grandly as she climbed onto the porch and looked around the yard. “It really is just a perfect, perfect spot.”
    â€œI have brown patch disease,” Erinn said, not wanting her life to seem too perfect. Cary blinked in surprise, and Erinn, worried she may have overplayed her hand, added, “But I can cure it with cornmeal and molasses.”
    â€œWhat in God’s name are you talking about?” Cary asked as she sat down at the patio table, suddenly looking very serious. “Erinn, we need to talk. I have a show coming up and—”
    â€œI’ll take it,” Erinn said, sitting down across from her old—and maybe new—boss.
    â€œYou don’t even know what it’s about.”
    â€œI don’t care!” Erinn said. “I mean . . . well, I’ve always enjoyed working with you and I’m sure this time won’t be any different.”
    â€œIt’s not me that’s the problem,” Cary said. “It’s a pilot for a reality show called Red, White, and Blu —spelled B-L-U, because it will be starring Blu Knight. Does that name ring a bell?”
    This situation was exactly why Erinn didn’t like face-to-face conversations. If this discussion were taking place on the phone, like it should, she could be madly pecking away on the Internet until she found out who or what Blu Knight was and not look as out of touch as she knew she was.
    â€œNo,” Erinn admitted. “Should it?”
    â€œShe was a minor celebrity back in the day,” Cary said. “Somehow, she’s gotten one of the networks interested in doing a reality series or at least a pilot with her. She’s trying to make a comeback.”
    â€œShe’s trying to come back as a minor celebrity?”
    â€œNo, as a shoe designer. She wants to make high heels that suburban moms will wear to make them feel fabulous or some such horseshit.”
    â€œWell,” Erinn said, “you know I’m always ready to help. All I need to do is charge the batteries for the camera.”
    Cary looked down at her perfectly manicured nails