Josie watched about fifteen minutes of this show before pressing fast-forward and heading to another Crafty Times with Courtney Castle, to a show entitled ‘Stenciling for All.’ She pressed the fast-forward button again and found a Courtney in a new environment with shorter, flatter, lighter hair.
Josie leaned forward and squinted at the screen. Courtney, wearing denim overalls, was actually sitting on a bale of hay in what appeared to be a garden-variety barn. “Welcome to Country by Courtney,” she announced, smiling broadly. “Today our topic is apples and we’re going to make apple butter and apple chutney, see cider being pressed during a short field trip, and then learn all about those absolutely appealing Appalachian apple dolls…” Josie pressed fast-forward.
“Welcome to Country by Courtney…” The hair was the same, but the overalls had been replaced with jeans and a gingham blouse. “On this show we’re going to be talking about corn. Corncob pipes. Corn stacks to decorate your home for Halloween. Corn relish…”
Josie pressed again. And again. And again. Through Country by Courtney and “Rhubarb, the First Sign of Spring in our Garden.” Through Country by Courtney and “Beans from the Vine and Bush.” To Country by Courtney and “Give Peas a Chance,” where she switched from fast-forward to eject.
The next tape contained another show, another Courtney. Blond this time, still curly but less bubbly. Although perhaps the topic and the set lent themselves to a more conservative tone. “Hello, I’m Courtney Castle and this is the first show of Crewel with Courtney. Now some in our audience will understand me when I say there is really nothing cruel about crewel…”
Josie couldn’t hit the button fast enough.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one. On this tape, at least, Crewel with Courtney had a very short run. The next transformation was entitled Decorate Your Castle with Courtney Castle. Courtney was moving into her own now. Her hair was golden and worn in a polished style reminiscent of those popularized by the Breck girls of Josie’s childhood. She was dressed in an elegant navy suit and looked right at home in the English chintz drawing room, where, apparently, the opening of the show took place. There was an entire tape filled with three hours of this show and covering topics from “Swags for Every Room” to “Tassels to Go” to “Damask and the Den.”
From the general to the specific. The next tape was of two different shows: Stencil Your Castle with Courtney Castle and Faux Finishes in Your Castle with Courtney. Josie didn’t take her thumb off the fast-forward button until she arrived at the end.
She was putting the final tape in the machine when Sam appeared in the doorway. “Three minutes to dinner,” he announced. “We can eat in here, but if you’d like to take a break, it will take only a minute to set up out back.”
“Out back,” she said. “I’ll just use the bathroom and join you.”
Sondra and Sam were enjoying goblets of something fruity and dark red on the deck off the kitchen. They were deep in a conversation about someone skiing in Aspen when Josie appeared.
“You look tired. What can I get you to drink?” Sam asked. “Sondra made sangria. Do you want a glass?”
“It’s delicious, but it can be lethal,” Sondra said. “Remember the time we got so drunk at my apartment when I was living down in the Village and neither of us could remember the name of the restaurant where we were supposed to be meeting one of your colleagues?”
Sam laughed. “Sure. We were with that producer and his girlfriend. He kept insisting that we were planning to go for sushi and she was positive we had made reservations at some Thai place.”
“I’ll have the sangria,” Josie announced. Perhaps it would help her get through what was beginning to seem like a long evening.
“And I’ll get it for you while Sam apologizes for telling you you look tired, and then, after you’ve had a glass and are feeling mellow, I’ll apologize for talking about people you don’t know in front of you.” And with this Sondra stood and trotted back into the house.
Sam looked at Josie and grimaced. “Sondra’s right and I’m sorry.”
“She’s nice,” Josie said, hoping the admission didn’t sound as begrudging as she felt.
“She is. I hope John knows how lucky he is.”
“John?”
“Her fiancé. She’s meeting him here tomorrow. His family has that big pink stucco house down near the beach.”
“She’s engaged?” Josie was beginning to like Sondra more all the time.
“Yup. Getting married in a few weeks. I was invited to the wedding-with a date. It’s in the city. I was hoping you’d be able to go with me. We could stay with Mom,” he added. “Or maybe a suite at the Plaza?” he added, a wicked leer on his face.
“How do you know I won’t be in jail for murdering Courtney Castle?” was Josie’s reply. She didn’t mean to be overheard, but Sondra had returned, a full pitcher of sangria in one hand, a clean goblet in the other.
“So you hate her, too, huh?” Sondra asked, pouring the wine and handing the glass to Josie.
“I sure di-don’t like her.” Josie was prompted to change her words by a gentle kick in the shins. She was thankful that soft Italian loafers were Sam’s preferred choice of footwear.
“That’s true of most people who work with her for any length of time.” Sondra took a sip of her drink.
“Sondra was telling me about Courtney while we went through the videotapes this afternoon,” Sam explained, opening the grill.
A delicious scent wafted in the air, but Josie was interested in something other than food. “What about her?” she asked.
“Well, as you saw on the tapes-” Sondra started.
But Josie interrupted. “Explain the tapes first. They didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Was Courtney the star of all those shows?”
“Yes, but-”
“Then why didn’t I ever hear about her?” Josie interrupted impatiently. “I mean, I may not watch a lot of public television, but I watch some. And I see promos for upcoming shows. Generally, I know a fair amount of what’s on.”
“But you only see the shows broadcast by your public station. There are hundreds of stations all over the country and they put different shows on the air. Most of those shows come from the public broadcast network feed; the local stations pay to put them on the air. And some of the shows originate at the station themselves; those shows have a fairly limited distribution.
“Most of the shows you saw on those tapes were locally produced and distributed to a very small audience,” Sondra explained. “They may not have been seen by more than a thousand people-maybe fewer.”
“Why are there so many different shows?” Josie asked.
“Because, up until this last show-Courtney’s Castle or whatever she calls it-she was a complete failure.”
“You’re kidding!” Josie was thrilled.
“Actually, I’m wrong. If she had been a failure, she would never have gotten to anchor all those different shows. Courtney, in the vernacular of my business, is talent looking for the proper vehicle. That is, she was until now.”
“I don’t understand exactly,” Josie admitted.
“That’s because I’m not explaining very well. Maybe I should tell you a bit more about my chosen field.”
Sam served the meal and, Josie’s appetite having returned with the news that Sondra was engaged, they ate while Sondra talked.
“You see, television is a very mobile business. People move from station to station and from job to job within the station. They move up, they move out, they move laterally. It’s the norm. Courtney’s career has been fairly typical of someone who doesn’t make it big right away. You may not have been paying attention to the call letters at the beginning of the shows you just watched-”
“No, not at all.”
“Well, the first few tapes were done at a small station in North Dakota.”