The Postman Always Purls Twice (5 page)

Jennifer extended her hand, looking sincerely interested to meet her. “Maggie . . . thank you so much for coming. We had a little accident with some equipment . . .”

“We saw what happened. How awful for you. What a scare.”

“Just a big mess.” Jennifer rolled her eyes briefly, as if the incident was nothing at all.

“Does equipment fall down like that a lot on movie sets?” Suzanne asked.

“Not usually, thank goodness.” Jennifer rose from her seat. “I've only seen that happen once before. On a very low-budget film . . . which this is most definitely
not
,” she added quietly, then laughed.

“I'm glad you stuck around. I have loads of questions to ask you. But it's a madhouse here now.” Jennifer glanced at the crew of gaffers, who had already started rigging new lights. “Can you come back to my trailer? We'll have some privacy there.”

Maggie met Suzanne's bright gaze. She looked about to burst with pleasure, the edges of her smile spreading to her earrings.

“We'd love to. Lead the way,” Maggie answered for both of them.

A short time later, they had followed the star outside and another large security guard met them on the porch. Maggie saw Lucy, Dana, and Phoebe standing at the gate. They all waved when she looked their way.

“Oh dear . . . I forgot all about them,” Suzanne gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I did, too,” Maggie admitted. Understandably, in all the excitement. Lucy must have been asked to leave when the set was closed, and Dana and Phoebe probably never even made it inside. “Is something wrong?” Jennifer stopped and turned. She wore a white down coat draped over her shoulders and tugged the edges toward her chin.

Maggie was about to say, “Nothing.” But Suzanne answered first. “Our friends . . . the rest of our knitting group. They're
dying
to meet you. Could we just stop and say hello?”

Jennifer smiled. “You have a real knitting group? I'd love to hear all about that. Ask them to join us. It will be fun.”

Maggie was shocked at the star's generosity. “It's not too much of an intrusion? I'm sure you don't have much time . . .”

Suzanne jabbed her with an elbow. “Thank you so much! I know they'll be thrilled.”

“It's fine. And will help me enormously. Even though I knit a lot on the set, I buy most of my materials online and I've never been part of a group. Or spent much time in knitting shops,” she admitted. “It will add so much to the role if I have more of a feeling for this character's life—her routines and relationships.”

“I can definitely help with that,” Maggie promised. All the while thinking how boring her life will seem compared to Jennifer Todd's.

Quiet and predictable. But that's the way I like it. I doubt I would enjoy being a movie star, even if it was a possibility, she reminded herself.

Right, Maggie, a little voice—a lot like Phoebe's—chided her. Tell me another one . . .

Everyone called the vehicle a trailer, but it was really a superluxury RV, quite daunting from the outside and even wider and more spacious inside than Maggie had expected. She felt as if she had entered a small, expensively furnished condo. Or maybe the cabin of a multimillion-dollar yacht.

Alicia, who was working on the refreshments in a galley kitchen, smiled as Maggie and her friends entered and looked around, unabashedly in awe.

“I'm just fixing some tea and snacks,” Alicia called out. “Does anyone want anything special?”

“Don't go to any trouble for us,” Maggie assured her.

The actress had led them to a sitting area with a dark blue cushioned-back couch wrapped around the space in a U shape.

A blond-wood coffee table, with a raised rim—so cups and glasses wouldn't slide away if the trailer was moving?—was secured to the floor. Matching cabinets, flat-screen TV, and bookcases had been built in around and above the couch.

“This is my own custom-fit trailer. I have someone drive it to locations for me, whenever possible. There's already so much stress when we're on location. It makes life easier to be in your own space.”

“It's beautiful,” Lucy said, gazing around.

“Like a home away from home,” Dana added.

“As much as it can be,” Jennifer replied.

Maggie noticed many personal touches—a photo of Jennifer and Nick on their wedding day and another with the couple posed at the Great Wall of China. There was also a framed poster from one of her early film successes and a large vase of fresh flowers near the window. Lily of the valley.

“Lovely flowers,” Maggie remarked. “I have some in my garden. They don't bloom around here until May, though.”

Jennifer smiled. “I love gardening. When I have the time. I can't get lily of the valley to grow very well where I live, but friends know it's my favorite. Regina Thurston, our executive producer, sent that bunch. To wish me good luck on the film,” she explained. “Take a seat, everyone, I think there's enough room,” the star said graciously. “Alicia, can you bring some of those kale chips and the green drinks . . . oh, and the strawberries?”

Maggie was more inclined to pairing her tea with a blueberry scone, or even plain butter cookies. But of course, white flour, sugar, and butter were pure poison to a movie star. Jennifer Todd was so slim—practically skeletal. She probably lived on nothing more than kale chips and filtered water.

“Please help yourself.” Alicia set down a tray with several small teacups, made of dark green pottery, alongside a cast-iron teakettle with a coppery sheen. Maggie had seen such kettles in specialty tea shops and knew they cost a small fortune.

There was also a dish of what looked like green potato chips and a more approachable-looking bowl of ripe strawberries, along with several bottles of a healthy-looking green drink.

“Nick and I have these smoothies flown in almost every day from a terrific little vegan restaurant in Laguna Beach. I practically live on them. Try one,” Jennifer encouraged them. She picked up a bottle and twisted off the cap, then poured it into a tall glass.

Maggie and her friends all took cups of tea. Phoebe was the only one tempted by the green drink. She sniffed it curiously before tasting, like a little cat.

“So . . . where shall we start? Maybe I should tell you a little about the character I play. Her name is Renee Woods. She's a young widow without children who has thrown herself into running her knitting shop the last few years, since her husband died. A bit reserved. Maybe even shy.”

“That's weird. She sounds a lot like Maggie,” Phoebe blurted out, then looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Mag. I don't think you're shy,” she assured her.

“Thanks for that. It does sound like me . . . a little,” Maggie admitted. “I opened my shop right after I lost my husband. Though I'm not all that young. I do have a daughter; she's in college. I used to be a high school art teacher, but I decided it was time for a change,” she added.

“An art teacher? How interesting. That's a wonderful detail.” Jennifer seemed delighted by the disclosure. As if Maggie had made up some fascinating embellishment in a work of fiction. Except that it was her real life story, she reflected.

“Alicia? Can you get this down for me?” Jennifer turned to her assistant, who sat in a chair beside the star.

“I'm all set.” Alicia already had an iPad, opened and booted up on her lap. The large bandage on her left hand didn't slow her down a beat as she began tapping out notes. “This is interesting,” she agreed, smiling at Maggie.

Jennifer looked back at Maggie. “Please go on with your story . . . So I'm a former art teacher. Do I miss teaching? Working with students and all that?”

Maggie was getting confused with all these points of view—Jennifer, her character, Renee . . . and her own life. She felt as if she was suddenly walking in a hall of mirrors.

“I do think about my art room years once in a while. And I stay in touch with many of my special students. It's mostly fond memories. But I don't miss it. I'm using my teaching skills every day with the classes I lead at the shop. It seems almost synchronistic, the way this new career path evolved for me. Equally as rewarding as working at the high school. Maybe even more.”

“That's wonderful. I love that perspective. Life just . . . evolving for you. I'm going to use that, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind at all.” Maggie had thought that Jennifer would be asking about practical matters—how to use the yarn winder for instance, or ring up a sale. Not her own life story.

But she had no experience with actors and how they worked. It appeared that they created the characters they had to play much the same way that writers created a character on a page. It was fascinating, she thought.

“I love that word, ‘synchronicity.' I love that wise perspective.” Jennifer nodded.

“Maggie's very wise,” Lucy remarked, making Maggie blush.

“With a lot of insight,” Dana added.

“Quite a character in her own right,” Suzanne quipped.

“Yes, I can see that.” Jennifer smiled. She had dazzling blue eyes and amazingly white teeth.

Maggie wondered if they were the original set. It didn't seem possible; they had to be caps or some sort of cosmetic enhancement. Otherwise, the actress was a natural beauty. No obvious nips and tucks, or frozen, tight spots that hinted at too many Botox shots.

“So . . . did you always knit, or was that taken up recently?”

“I learned from my grandmother, when I was a teenager. But I didn't spend much time on it until I was pregnant with my daughter, Julie. I came across a simple pattern for baby booties in a magazine, waiting for a doctor's appointment. I decided to make them by the time she was born. I ended up with booties, a jacket, a hat, and a matching blanket,” she rattled off, making everyone laugh.

“I never heard that story before,” Dana remarked.

“Me, either,” Lucy noted.

Maggie shrugged. “Maybe I just made it up.”

“If you did, you're a better actress than I am.” Jennifer's quick comeback made everyone smile. “So you took to knitting quickly. Sounds like you were a natural.”

“Not quite. Those early attempts were far from perfect. The toes on the booties curled, like little elf shoes. I don't think the baby noticed,” she added with a laugh. “I'd had a miscarriage before I became pregnant with Julie. Knitting calmed me down and distracted me. A very therapeutic hobby for pregnant women. Especially if they're put on bed rest.”

“I never thought of that. What an authentic story. And what a lovely image—an expectant mother, creating something so protective and comforting for her baby.” Jennifer seemed enchanted. “Alicia, make sure you get this down. Every word.”

“I've got it. Great stuff,” Alicia added, looking up for a moment to smile at Maggie again. She typed on steadily, like a court reporter taking down intense testimony.

“I can see Renee knitting a little jacket or some booties. It's perfect. We have to tell Theo to write that in to one of the later scenes.” Jennifer turned to her assistant again, then back to the knitting friends. “In the plot, Renee has been longing for a baby, but she and her late husband couldn't conceive. Then Tyler Hanson comes along. Well, I don't want to ruin it for you.”

“Tyler Hanson . . . that's the character Heath O'Hara plays?” Suzanne sat up at attention, eager for tidbits about her idol.

Jennifer nodded. “Heath brings so much to the role. He's such a gifted actor.”

Maggie smiled, though she couldn't see how a handsome hunk would have any problem playing the role of . . . well, a handsome hunk who sweeps a shy, widowed knitting shop owner off her feet. Which seemed to be the bare bones of the story, from what she could glean from Jennifer's description.

“So, do they end up together, Renee and Tyler?” Suzanne asked eagerly. “I love a good romance.”

Jennifer smiled. “Oh, it's a good romance. But for one thing, Heath is married to Trina's character, Sabrina . . . and he dies rather tragically, very bravely in fact.” She looked suddenly sad, as if these characters were real people. “But at least Renee has the baby,” she added. Her eyes suddenly widened and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my gosh . . . I spoiled it for you now, didn't I? I'm so sorry . . . I didn't mean to.”

“That's all right. We'll definitely see it anyway,” Lucy assured her.

“I'll see it a few times,” Suzanne promised.

Jennifer looked relieved, but before she replied, a black iPhone on the table buzzed, signaling a call or text coming through. Alicia quickly picked it up. “It's Nick's assistant. They want you in makeup in five.”

Jennifer sighed and picked up her teacup. “Tell them I'll be right there. This is important, too.”

She looked over at Maggie and her friends again. “It's been amazing talking to you, Maggie. It's already been a huge help. And I didn't even get to ask you any of my technical questions about running the shop. Or what you all do in your knitting group. Can we talk some more later?”