Jared, unless he had to be in Salem or at a client or constituent meeting, would stay in his pajamas—ratty flannel pj bottoms and a rattier Trail Blazers T-shirt, make lunches for all three Stone women, and then cook everyone breakfast. He took full responsibility for getting everyone ready for the day, and he loved it.
Megan would chatter through the pancakes, eggs, or Jared’s specialty, Island French Toast, while Deirdre read the paper and Jackie read a book. Jared would walk all three to the door, kiss each good-bye, and, with Trebuchet at his side, watch them go. Then the two of them, Jared and Trey, would go for a walk around the block, come home, and retreat to Jared’s office.
Jared would work on graphic design projects or legislative issues, and Trey would sleep, occasionally waking up and nudging Jared for another trip outside or a scratch behind the ear. If he had no pressing deadlines, Jared would play Tiger Woods Golf on the Wii console that the family had given him for Christmas.
If Norman Rockwell had painted in the early twenty-first century, the Stone family would have been his inspiration.
Jared’s cancer changed everything. The Life and Death crew, having established a beachhead in the Stone house, changed it more. The people coming and going; the not so artfully hidden cameras, cables, lights, and microphones; the constant stream of phone calls from the media—and not just the media, but THE media—with the Today show and Good Morning America scheduling interviews with Jared and his family.
With all their expenses covered by the network, and with Jared’s health in sharp decline, Deirdre took an indefinite leave of absence from work. She didn’t trust the ATN employees alone in her house all day long and wanted to be there for her husband and daughters. Not sure how else to fill her time, she helped Jared with household chores, meaning she took them over completely.
Jared abandoned his few remaining projects and tried to devote what was left of his attention to the television show. He wound up sleeping most of the time instead.
The girls still went to school, but with their newfound celebrity, their days were anything but normal. Megan now spent two hours primping and preening each morning. Jackie, in response to the media attention foisted on her family, shied away from Twitter, The Huffington Post, and The Daily Beast. With the Internet—her one outlet to the world—more or less severed, she retreated further into her shell.
The Stones did their best to adapt to the new normal that had descended on them, trying to make it part of the landscape. But this was different from trips to the mall and family game nights. This was a twenty-four-seven spotlight on the end of their father’s and husband’s life with all the world watching. Their house was being transformed into a cruel kind of fishbowl, and all they could do was pucker and swim.
***
Ethan Overbee spent the week before the Life and Death premiere in Portland. Normally he left the work of producing a show to the hired hands—which is how he thought of the crew—but he was too personally and professionally invested in this particular show to leave anything to chance.
Moving between the control truck and the house with the confidence of a conquering general, Ethan used his considerable charm to win over everyone involved in the project. From the director to the camera people to the sound engineers, Ethan established himself as a benevolent leader, a man who would give their lives meaning and make their careers matter.
He even managed, to Jared’s great relief, to get Deirdre and Megan to feel better about the program. He talked about how what they were doing was important, how it would ease the suffering of so many people who were facing their own battles with terminal illness. Ethan cast himself in the role of hero, and it worked—with two notable exceptions.
Every time Ethan entered a room, Trebuchet left. Though he was adept at fawning over them when he needed to, Ethan hated animals of all kinds, and that was not lost on Trey. Like all dogs, Trebuchet’s vomeronasal organ was fully operational, and it told him to stay away from this human. He didn’t growl at Ethan, but his tail would stop wagging and hang to the floor when the two were in the same room; invariably Trebuchet would find the nearest exit.
The other exception was, of course, Jackie. No matter how hard he tried, Ethan couldn’t get the girl to warm up. She would sit politely and listen as he regaled them with stories of television, Hollywood, and glamour. Then, when attention was directed elsewhere, she would follow the dog out of the room. She just didn’t trust the man. It was like he was selling something her family really didn’t need.