Change at Jamaica Station

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight          

Tabetha Doubts Herself        2018 NBC Studios, NY

"They are a very dramatic lot, aren't they?" I ask Andy Hart, the producer of 'Protect'. He and I are alone in my dressing room. Louise, Derek and Seth have left after another heated impromptu meeting in which it's becoming obvious that I am not up to date on many things going on in the world, but mostly tech and social media, as I never found either to be comforting or user friendly. I'm wondering how painful my latest mistake will be. Derek and Seth continue to make 'witch' jokes about me. It's the first time in seven hours I've been with just one person and not with makeup people, camera people, assistants, and the other actors and I almost feel like I can be myself.

"They are in Television. That's what they do." Andy says as he closes the door and sits on the couch behind my chair, watching me comb out my new butter yellow hair in the mirror. He unbuttons his jacket and eases back, watching. My tennis skirt shows off my legs and the sleeveless top, the scar on my left shoulder. I try to relax, but I feel in the air between us something that keeps me separate, like I am still performing. I apply moisturizer to my face, then my makeup brush comes out of a drawer, and he watches it caress my cheek. I make a face at Andy in the mirror, crinkling my nose and squinting my eyes.

"So, are you a witch?" Andy asks in a low voice, picking up Derek's running joke.

"Maybe. I do seem often be in the right place at the right time." I mumble as I reapply my own light sunscreen and powder. "But I'd definitely be a good witch if I was one."

"Well, that works out fine for a TV show." He says.

"Is everything with you about television?" I ask.

"It's my one true passion." He answers.

"That's what makes you good." I state, not really paying attention to him, trying desperately to unwind. I sigh heavily, droop my shoulders, and close my eyes.

"Maybe. It does feel good when we win awards. Are you alright?" he asks in a lower voice. I finally let my guard down and my face falls.

"No." I respond flatly.

"What can I do?" he asks with concern.

"Ha! Well, the correct answer is 'pay me more money'!" I laugh at myself. I have a full body, belly laugh that fills the room, as if I didn't have a care in the world. The opposite of how I feel.

"Ok, I will," he answers on an up note.

"That was easy! Seriously, I am frightened Sally is taking over Tabby. I was supposed to be a small cameo, then a small role, now I'm the lead. That went quickly. I'm still adjusting to that. I had to change my tennis games! And also, what exactly does the word 'trending' entail, as in my real day to day life?" I say half joking.

"Well, first of all, being promoted to the lead on a hit show is not bad, is it?" He asks.

"No, not bad, just fast. I've been a very low-key person for some time. I thought I was doing OK with it all, I'm a little frightened. Well, a lot frightened."

"Of what exactly?" Andy rises and stands behind me, watching my eyes in the mirror.

"Trending?" My voice goes up a hitch. I sound like I could cry, but I don't feel that way.

"Trending just means your popular at the moment."

"Like capri pants in the spring in suburbia?" I ask.

"Yes, sure, absolutely." He answers without hesitation, as seriously as if we were discussing the fall of the Berlin wall.

"And what goes with that?" I know enough to know that whatever is going on, there will be consequences. "What about what Seth and Derek said. A 'shitstorm' of negative attention. I don't know anything about social media. Hell, I can barely turn on my own television, and it has so many channels! I don't really understand if Sally Marder has a.... what do you even call it?" I shake my head, only slightly embarrassed at my lack of knowledge about modern technology. Andy puts on a patient face.