“It’s really fascinating,” Josie continued. “Families can actually build their own homes without much professional help and save considerable amounts of money-”
“Speaking of women, work, and families, Josie. How does your family feel about the life you’ve chosen?”
Josie smiled. “My son, Tyler, is sixteen years old and I think he’s proud of what I do. When he was small, he and I used to bicycle around the island in good weather and he would point out what he called Mommy’s houses.”
“I was referring to the rest of your family. Your mother and father. How do they feel about you being a carpenter? Are they also proud of your handiwork?”
“I haven’t… that is, they haven’t…” She took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to say. “My parents don’t live on the island” was all she came up with. She was busy trying to keep a scowl off her face. That damn camera was still going.
“That’s too bad. They might be proud to see how successful their little girl is.” Courtney turned back to the camera, smiled, and changed the subject. “So we’ll be meeting more women than we usually do on our shows during this project. Tell us a bit about the island, Josie. I gather you’re not a native? How long have you lived here?”
Josie tried to keep her voice modulated. “No, I’m not. I came here right after… over a dozen years ago.”
“So you were here during the boom years of the late eighties, when real estate values increased dramatically.”
“Yes.” Josie decided it was time to get the attention away from her personal life. “But this house was built before that time. This house was built in the midsixties by a developer who put up at least a couple of dozen of these homes, usually doing exactly what he did here-buying up an entire block and filling it with a line of identical little A-frames.
“There aren’t many left in their original state,” Josie continued, wondering why the questions had stopped. “This job is interesting because instead of tearing down the entire structure and building something new, the owners have chosen to retain parts of the original house. We’re even extending the chimney from the first floor up through the roof of the new addition.”
Josie didn’t know what else to say, so she stopped talking and waited for Courtney to pick up the ball.
But Courtney was sitting quietly, looking a bit like she’d adopted some Buddhist practice. There was a slight smile on her lips and her eyes seemed to be focused on something far away in the distance.
“Cut!” Bobby Valentine ended the moment. “Do you want to do the walk-through of the house now or wait until after lunch?” he asked Courtney.
“I suppose we may as well block it out now.”
Josie was amazed by the transformation. When the camera was on, Courtney was bright and alert. But without an imaginary audience, she almost seemed deflated. “Block it out? Do you need me?”
“What do you think, Court? Do you want to do the walk-through alone or with Josie?”
Bobby Valentine’s question pulled Courtney back from the vast beyond. Her eyes focused on her producer and she seemed to consider the question.
“Maybe it would be best if Josie came along and she could suggest where we run into her crew members,” Bobby Valentine suggested. “We probably won’t introduce everyone during one show, but we try to give the audience an opportunity early in the series to recognize the people who will be on the set. It serves two purposes. First, it’s less distracting. Viewers don’t need to be wondering about the man-or woman-in a background shot while Courtney is talking or doing an interview. And it helps the viewer relate to the project.”
“Why does that matter?” Josie asked, thankful for the arm he offered to help her get off the railing more gracefully than she had gotten on, and then followed him through the door into the house.
“Our show is supposed to be educational, at least that’s how it’s billed. And we do show almost every new product on the market as well as the ways to use them. And certainly anyone planning to work on a house can get lots of great ideas by watching. But most of our viewers will never do anything as extensive or expensive as the jobs we show. They tune in because it’s fun to imagine being involved in a large-scale remodeling project without the grief or the expense involved in real life.”
“You’re saying Courtney Castle’s Castles is entertainment.”
He grinned. “Yup. But don’t tell anyone involved in public broadcasting. We used to get government funding to do this stuff, remember.”
Josie noticed he was looking over her shoulder through the still open doorway. “Isn’t Courtney coming?”
“It’s difficult to know just what she’s doing these days.” The words seemed to be said more to himself than in answer to her question. “But,” he continued firmly, “why don’t you and I go through the house and we can discuss how your work is going to connect with ours. Courtney can catch up later.”
“Great.”
“Courtney will introduce you on the deck in the first shot of the first show. And since she’ll mention your unique crew at that time, we think another introduction should take place within that half hour. Maybe someone could be finishing up a last bit of demolition in here?”
“Well, we’re protecting the chimney and hearth down here. Maybe-”
Josie was interrupted by a loud screech. It was so loud and frightening that at first she feared someone had been murdered. But it turned out to be the beginning of a Courtney Castle temper tantrum.
EIGHT
ANNETTE LONG WAS pink with excitement. “You should have seen her! She was completely off the wall!”
“You’re right. I couldn’t imagine what was going on,” Jill agreed, nodding furiously.
“Hysterical bitch.” Dottie was typically succinct.
Josie looked down at the plate in front of her. Caesar salad with grilled shrimp. Marinated roasted red peppers. Fresh rolls and butter. And there were three cheesecakes being cut up for dessert. Plain, chocolate, and raspberry. “But there are fringe benefits for putting up with her,” she reminded them.
“She’s so thin. I don’t know how she eats all this stuff without gaining weight. Do you think she has a personal trainer?” Annette asked.
“Ha!” Jill was sarcastic. “She doesn’t eat real food. Every time I see her, she’s taking tiny little bites from one of those disgusting rice cakes. I’d rather eat sawdust!”
“Anorexic bitch.” Dottie patted her protruding stomach fondly.
“I suspect we won’t be seeing all that much of her. I’m beginning to get the impression that Island Contracting is just scenery for Courtney Castle’s Castles,” Josie said, a frown on her face.
“Oh, good, can I be a tree?” Jill asked. The women were sitting together on the dock behind the house, and Jill reached out, plucked a branch from an evergreen bush overhanging the water, and stuck it jauntily behind her left ear.
“Me, too,” Annette said, giggling and running off the dock to collect more branches. “Here.” She handed one to Dottie, who jammed it into her hair so that it stuck up like a feather in a child’s Native American headdress. “You, too,” she said impulsively, and, forgetting that Josie was the boss, began tucking leaves and tiny branches into her mop of red hair.
Josie laughed and stuck a curl of red pepper in her mouth like a lizard’s proboscis. “You guys be the flora and I’ll be the fauna,” she said, giggling. These women hadn’t been working for her for long and she was usually reluctant to “let down her hair” with new employees, but the taping was creating a lot of tension and she couldn’t resist the temptation to let off a bit of steam. Apparently the others felt the same way-except for Dottie, who was still scowling. Or maybe scowling was something Dottie enjoyed; she certainly did it enough.
Josie picked up a long roll, held it like a microphone in front of her face, and stood. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Josephine Pigeon, host of Pigeon’s… Pigeon’s Palaces.”