After she had been there reading for a couple of minutes—she had preserved the first few pages of the book when hollowing it out so she could actually read to her father— she waited until no one was looking, slipped the phone out of the book, and tucked it under her father’s mattress. There was some risk in this part of the plan, but Jackie was confident that once everyone back in the control room saw she was only there to read to her comatose dad, she would fade into the background. Again, she was hiding her actions in plain view. It took nerve, but that was something Jackie was developing in abundance.
She couldn’t help but think that her father would be proud of her. She squeezed his hand, kissed his cheek, closed her book, and left the room.
As she was heading back to her own bedroom, she saw Andersona rush by, a production assistant in tow. She was barking at him in a whispered frenzy. The only words Jackie caught were: “Find it!”
It look all of Jackie’s willpower not to laugh out loud.
***
Ethan needed to regain control. His outburst in the truck was a misstep, and he knew it. After his conversation with Roger, he was starting to think he’d been playing everything wrong. It was this uncertainty, this lack of confidence that caused him to become unhinged.
Bending people to his way of thinking, getting them to unwittingly do his bidding, was Ethan’s signature move. He rarely accomplished this through bluster and force. He got what he wanted through charm and guile. It was time to go back to his playbook and stop calling audibles.
The linchpin, he knew, was Deirdre. He should never have tried to deal directly with the younger daughter. With Jared out of commission, Deirdre was the head of this household, and he’d undermined her authority by going behind her back. Both daughters, he had to believe, would follow their mother’s lead. Ethan needed to coax Deirdre back into his confidence, make her feel like part of the team.
That wasn’t going to be easy. Ethan had dressed the family down—yet one more mistake—when they’d returned from their excursion. He was pretty rough and now he needed to fix it.
There was only one place to begin: with an apology.
He knew from the control truck that Deirdre was lying down in her bedroom. It seemed like too intimate a place to start to heal wounds, but time was of the essence. He needed to get back on course now, before it all fell apart.
Ethan knocked on the door. There was no answer. He had seen on the monitor that Deirdre wasn’t asleep. She was reading. He even knew what she was reading. Ethan couldn’t figure out why people wasted their time with books. Weren’t there enough good movies and television shows?
He knocked again. “Deirdre, it’s Ethan,” he called out. “Listen, I want to apologize.”
After a moment he heard movement, and then the door opened.
Deirdre stood there, her body language and facial expression a cross between tired and agitated.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked.
“Does it matter if I say no?” she responded.
“Look,” he began, “I know what you must think of me, and I don’t blame you. I’ve been a jerk, and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Deirdre said and started to close the door on him.
“Wait. Please, just hear me out for one minute.”
Deirdre stopped, the door half open, and leaned her shoulder against its edge.
“I know this isn’t going to matter to you, especially with Jared so, so …”
“Dying,” she interrupted.
“Yes,” he said, “dying.” This was when Ethan was at his best; confronting difficult truths and somehow making himself share in the pain of others. “Anyway, I know it must seem silly to you with everything your family is going through, but I’m under immense pressure to try to hold this television show together. A lot of people at the network are depending on me, depending on us, to make this successful.”
He had Deirdre’s attention, but she didn’t respond.
“Listen, I could tell you how much America needs to see you and your family, how they’ve become invested in your lives—”
“You have told me that.”
“And it’s true. Or maybe it’s true on some level. But if I’m being honest, I’m here trying to save my own skin.” Ethan paused and looked at his shoes. “Anyway,” he said without looking up, “that’s why I’ve been so hard on you and the girls. Hell, that’s why I did this.” He held up his bandaged hand.
“You told me someone slammed a car door on it.”
“I lied about that, Deirdre. I punched a wall in the control truck. I didn’t want you to know because I was embarrassed.” This was another arrow in the Overbee quiver, own up to everything. “I lost control with you, and I lost control with my crew. I’m going to apologize to them, too.”
“Okay, Ethan,” Deirdre said, now more tired and less agitated, which he knew was progress, “thank you.” Again, she started to close the door.
“Wait,” he said, “one more thing.”