Page 61 of Home to Me

Yeah, right.

Asking Lauren not to obsess about the future was like asking a butterfly not to flutter. She knew very well that she was going to spend all day worrying about what the future held with Ben. But, at the very least, she would try to keep it in the back of her mind. The early hour would help with that. A large chunk of her brain would be devoted to the task of seeming alert and awake, which would serve to keep her from dwelling on these more complex problems.

As the town car had driven her through the streets of Los Angeles, she’d looked at the big city buildings out the window and marveled.

She’d been in a big city before—she had lived in New York for years before moving back to Hope Falls. And LA might be a lot of things, but in the “impressively and visually urban” department, it was severely lacking when compared to the Big Apple.

So it wasn't that she was dazzled by the urban splendor of the big city. It was the natural comparison she drew between what was sitting before her now and what she saw every day in Hope Falls that made her realize how much her life had truly changed in the past six months.

She wouldn't trade it for the world.

Sure, the city had its allure, as all cities everywhere do. But could the hustle and bustle and neon lights compare with the thrill of unexpectedly running into a friend from elementary school shopping on Main Street? Could the frenetic pace of any city compare to the closeness of the people she loved living all around her in their tiny town?

She smiled. Never.

If her real estate agent friends from New York could see her in Hope Falls, in her tiny office with her part-time receptionist who didn't do much more than file and get coffee, on the sidewalks that were made of planks, and the only restaurant in town a small café that closed at nine on a Friday, they would probably pity her. She pitied them.

Now, Lauren’s mind wandered as she sat in the makeup chair. She kept glancing up every time the door to the trailer opened, expecting to see Ben come walking in, but he never did. That's odd, she thought. But maybe he’s in wardrobe before makeup today.

When she went to wardrobe, Barbara and Marlene said that they hadn't seen him yet today. Lauren started to feel a little concerned when she saw the tightening around their eyes, the slightly worried looks they exchanged, obviously trying to hide their concern from her.

Lauren went back to her trailer to wait to be called to set. She felt unsettled. Was Ben here and avoiding her? Was that why Barbara and Marlene didn’t want to look her in the eye?

It seemed unlikely.

After an hour of sitting in her trailer and waiting to be called, Lauren's vague sense of dread blossomed into a full-blown panic. This was wrong. This was so wrong.

Even when Ben was trying his damnedest to ignore her existence, she would’ve at least seen him around. They were now running officially an hour behind schedule—not Ben’s style at all—and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Ben all morning.

This. Was. Wrong.

Because Lauren's philosophy was to face trouble head on rather than hide from it, even if it was bad news, she decided to go looking for someone who might know the reason for their delay and Ben's absence.

She walked out of her trailer and, to her shock, found the place almost deserted. This was unprecedented in the time she'd been working on the show. If there was one thing that every single one of the sets had in common, it was the almost constant buzz of activity that characterized the day-to-day production.

Between the director, producers, PAs, craft services, hair, makeup, wardrobe, talent...there were always dozens of people busily bustling about their work at all times of day.

Not now.

Only a few people here and there were wandering around, and they were not rushing with the urgency that usually characterized their movements, but rather in a relaxed manner that indicated no deadline or time clock attached to the tasks they were completing.

With purpose, Lauren walked up to a PA who was gathering up paper plates and empty Styrofoam coffee cups and dropping them into a garbage bag. She touched the girl's shoulder.

“Excuse me,” Lauren said, trying to keep the urgency out of her tone. “What's going on? Where is Ben?”

The PA looked up in surprise, and then her forehead wrinkled with consternation. “Didn't anyone tell you?” the PA said in surprise.

Lauren waited, assuming that the girl would continue and fill her in on whatever it was someone was supposed to have told her, but she realized after an uncomfortably long silence that apparently the girl was going to wait for an answer to her question before she shared any information of her own.

Trying to force as much patience in her voice as she possibly could, Lauren said, “No, no one told me. What is it that they were supposed to have told me?”

“Oh, wow,” said the PA, looking uncomfortable. “Someone definitely should've told you. That was definitely someone's job. But it wasn't mine. But someone's head is definitely gonna roll... I swear to God, someone was supposed to tell you...”

Lauren, still trying to maintain her calm and even tone, but finding it more and more difficult, said, “Well, we can actually rectify that situation right now if you would just tell me whatever information it is that obviously did not get delivered to me earlier.”

The PA’s forehead wrinkled again. “Huh?”

Lauren closed her eyes, doing her level best to keep a lid on both her anger and her fear. “Please just tell me what is going on,” she said slowly and deliberately.

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