Page 126 of Heavy Shot

She had three different tests lined up in row, and every single one of them was a full on, no-mistaking-it positive. Staring, smiling, she picked each one up and inspected it carefully before quickly hiding the three tests in a zippered pouch she used to carry tampons. She washed her hands, the sink counter, then took all the detritus from the test boxes and crushed it all up together, tying the trash tightly in the drugstore bag it had all come in. That went into the bottom of her tote bag.

She would tell her PA that the results had been “nothing to worry about,” she decided. The next step was going to be seeing an actual physician so she could be sure about the timing, but she had a very strong feeling that this was just the beginning of an entirely new drama. Suddenly, all the cons started rolling in.

If this was Kline’s baby, she was tied to him for life. At least she knew him. If it was Thad’s baby, all she really knew about him was three women had divorced him, and now he was sleeping with Rhiannon. He had tried to call a few times since her brief conversation with Rhiannon, but she blocked his number. Same with Rhiannon. She didn’t want to deal with either one of them–the film was taking all her energy–and she certainly didn’t want to deal with them over the phone.

Before she could start to spiral, she quashed the thoughts like she’d done the boxes the tests came in.

She’d lost three pregnancies before. There was no reason this one should be different. She could lose this one just as easily, and given the schedule she was keeping and the work she was doing, and given that she couldn’t exactly call a halt to the work or the schedule to announce she was knocked up, she needed to take a breath, relax, and not get too attached, at least not until she had passed the three-month mark. In fact, she decided, she wasn’t going to tell anyone until she’d passed that mark.

When her assistant came to call her to set, she walked out with an air of relief. “Nothing to worry about,” she told her, fanning herself.

“Oh good!”

“But would you do me a favor and get me scheduled to see a doctor? A scare like that–I want to make sure I’m all loaded up on the right prescriptions. You know?”

“Of course! I know just the right practice. I’m sure they’ll get you in.”

“Thank you.” Jill dimpled, then spoke to crew as she passed by each one. That was something Kline was good at that she’d stolen from him. He talked to everyone. He was surface friendly, and he glad-handed like a politician, but he learned every name on the set and then used everyone’s name when he said hello to them each day.

She was less flirty about it than he was, but after the first week, they’d started competing to see who could assemble the most information about crew members’ lives in their short conversations between takes. Jill was in nearly every scene shot, so she had one up on him when it came to exposure to the crew, but his Hollywood charm was much more well-developed, so they were neck-and-neck as they were coming to the last few days of principal photography.

Two days prior they had completed the murder scenes, and now it was just dialog to close out the unfinished pages, and Jill found herself wistful about the shoot coming to an end. Something she’d been terrified of doing, and then exhausted by doing, had become a little family of actors and technicians she looked forward to seeing every day.

The Devil’s Party set had begun to feel like a home, much like the Broadway theater had. In ways, it was more like a home because of the way people took care of her there. On the stage, she moved through her role nightly with a cast that felt equally balanced. Maybe she had the lion’s share of the dialog, but it took every actor being in place to make the stage show run. It was more equitable, and while she may have closed the curtain with her bow, they all shared the final spotlight. She had even done her own makeup for the stage show.

On the film set, she and Kline were obviously the stars, and they were pampered and coddled, set apart and treated like they’d come down from Mount Olympus when they stopped to say hello, not to mention the girl whose job it was to just blot Jill’s nose and chin between takes, and smooth down her hair with a rattail comb and spritz.

She had told Kline, “I understand how people get addicted to the attention. I always thought nothing could compare to the ovation at the bow, you know? But now I’ve had people telling me how amazing I am all day, every day. Even when Mitch has notes, there’s someone there to pump up my ego after he’s deflated it. That’s someone’s job. Someone gets paid just to tell me I’m pretty and I say things out loud well.”

“You are pretty, and you do say things out loud well.”

She laughed. “If you ever decide to get out of acting, I have a job for you!”

“It is addictive,” he agreed. “When I did Knock, you know, I went from underwear modeling to that. Just boom, I was on a sitcom. And for most of us, it was our first big job. We all kind of fell in love with each other and the crew, and whenever we went on hiatus, it felt like getting kicked out into the cold. We’d been in this cocoon for months, all warm and happy, and then we were just on our own. It can do your head in.”

“I’m afraid this is going to do my head in, when we wrap.”

“That’s why you always have to know your next step. What’s yours?”

“Roland’s negotiating into that action comedy I crashed myself into. Clara thinks we’ll see things heat up after Devil’s Party gets released, but for now, I guess I’m doing the rounds to meet the right people, shake the right hands, and avoid the wrong couches.”

“I’ll help you do that.”

“You are a wrong couch!”

He laughed and patted her on the head.

Jill had walked in and out of rooms in her house until her own wee hours. She’d picked the one she wanted for the nursery, she thought. It was bright and full of natural light. This time, she told herself, as soon as she thought it was safe to do it, she was buying the tacky green and purple frog decor she had always secretly wanted. It was cute and friendly, and if there was going to be a small person in her home, that’s what she wanted the space to reflect.

That’s what she was thinking about when she left the physician’s office with a bag full of pre-natal vitamins and ultrasound scans. Well, and that she had to make it through the wrap party without anyone noticing she wasn’t drinking, and wondering how she was going to tell Kline. Roland was going to kill her, she thought.

But when the time came, Roland had surprised her with calm, clear-eyed support. When she’d questioned him, he said, “You’re an investment, sweetheart. What’s my ROI if run you off? Anyway, if the kid’s cute, we can put him to work. Here’s what we’re going to do: We’re going to get you cast as the voice of a Disney princess, or a Pixar monster or something. We’re going to get you the highest paying, behind the scenes job we can find you. You’re going to do the makeup thing your guy at Gersh got you, you’re going to do the bit in the that Thanksgiving movie, and then you’re going to have this baby and get back to fighting weight before anyone even knows what’s happened.”

“I’m not sure how that’s going to work,” she’d said.

Clara gave her a smile. “You can trust us. We’re your team and we’re going to get you through with your plan intact. Maybe slightly delayed, but intact.”

“Your five-year plan is my kid’s Harvard tuition,” Roland teased. “I’m not giving up on it. She graduates in four years.”