"Oh, Dorthea, you must know that you are the only woman I have ever loved. You must!" Randall Malone gasped out passionately, while clutching me to his chest. The music swelled, Randall looked deep into my eyes, and lowered his mouth to mine for a steamy kiss.
"…and, cut! That's a wrap, ladies and gentlemen, thank you!" George Davison called out. He's the director, and a very cranky, unlikeable guy. He hates his name (he thinks it sounds like porn star's name) and therefore whenever anyone speaks to him he tends to glower menacingly at them, as if daring them to crack a joke about his name. We all think he's crazy. There's lots of worse names out there. Lance Boyle, for instance. Or Dick Hertz, Jack Hoff (say that one out loud), Ben Dover…I could go on, but I probably shouldn't. I like making lists, especially of things that amuse me. But I know that other people, hell, probably MOST people don't find my lists amusing. Good thing that's not how I make my living!
I disentangled myself from "Randall"'s embrace. That's his character's name - his real name is Dan. He's not a bad guy. I could have gotten stuck with a much worse partner. I have been with much worse partners. I've been with guys who were physically repulsive, personally irritating, and sometimes both. But when you work on a soap opera I guess that stuff just comes with the territory. Everyone is always telling me how down to earth and normal I am compared to most soap stars. I guess it's because I actually love the acting, and I'm not so much into the fame aspect. It comes with the territory, but I don't seek it out.
I never would have imagined when I was a kid that I would end up making my living as one of the main characters on "The Sun Also Rises" (yeah, go figure, a soap named after a Hemingway novel. I guess the producer was trying to make it seem more legit or something, I don't know.) I play Dorthea (pronounced Dor-tay-ah by the way - few things irritate me more than when my so-called "die hard" fans approach me and call me "Dorothy") Lyndon. Like I said, I love my work, but I pretty much despise soap operas. They're just so cheesy. I used to tease Nannie endlessly in high school when she got addicted to "The Hung and the Breastless" (well, you know what I mean. I never call my rival shows by their real names.) Anyway, when I was a kid I was an idea machine. Okay, I still am. I always thought I'd end up as a CEO of some company or an entrepreneur. Hell, I created my first business at the age of twelve! Eat your heart out, Steve Jobs.
But then in eighth grade I got cast as the lead in our school's production of "Peter Pan". I had never acted before then, and really only auditioned because I thought it would be fun. I didn't want the lead, and when I got it, it took me a long time to learn the part. But once I did I realized that I actually loved doing it. So all through high school I acted in lots more plays, both musical and regular, and in college I majored in drama. College really prepared me for acting on the stage though, which tends to be more exaggerated than film. So when I went on film and TV auditions I always got turned away for not being subtle enough. Then one day a nice casting director took pity on me and told me that I should consider soap operas if I really wanted to be on TV. At that point I didn't really care much what I acted in, so long as I was acting and bringing home a paycheck. So I went to an open casting call for "Sun", and the rest is history. I've even won a Soap Opera Digest award, which I proudly display at home. Nannie is so proud. She even switched soaps! If she wasn't my grandmother I'd be more impressed. I know how addictive soaps are, and Nannie had been watching that particular one for ten years, at least. But familial loyalty trumps soap loyalty every time.
The second I got into my dressing room my phone started ringing. What timing! When I'm at home I never answer my phone unless it's my cell. I just get too many weirdos and reporters who call at almost all hours like they have a right to invade my life because they think they know me. But here in my dressing room my phone is another story. All calls have to go through the main studio switchboard, so any calls I get in here are legit. So I picked up the receiver.
"Kristin Brewer." (When I was in ninth grade, Watson legally adopted me and I was happy to adopt his last name in exchange. He is my father, even if it's not biological. I owe nothing to Patrick Thomas.)
"Kristy? Oh my God, you sound so grown up and professional!" a female voice squealed at me. I blanched, thinking that somehow some crazed fan had managed to sneak through the switchboard. But then the voice continued. "This is Mallory Pike! Remember me?"
"Mallory?" I gasped. "What…how…why…how did you get this number?" I finally stuttered out. I hadn't spoken to Mallory in years (but of course I remembered her. What a dumb question!)
"Oh, I got it from Mary Anne. I know we haven't really kept in touch, but I figured that you two would have. So I called her and she gave me this number. She didn't tell me it was a TV studio though! What do you do there? Are you the president of operations or something?"
"Um, no. Not quite. Hey, do you watch soap operas at all?" I asked her. I couldn't believe she didn't know what I actually do. Does she live under a rock?
"Oh, no. God, I hate those things. They're so insipid, with the women falling all over themselves to get the man, and men are all cheating bastards…I can't for the life of me figure out why anyone watches them."
"Ah, okay. That would explain it then."
"Explain what?"
"Why you don't know what I do. I play Dorthea Lyndon on 'The Sun Also Rises'."
Mallory paused, then said in a disbelieving voice, "You're shitting me. Kristy Brewer is a soap star? Are we in an alternate universe or something? Did someone slip me a roofie?"
"Oh, knock it off, Mal. Yes, I act in a soap opera. Things change, you know. The things we say we're going to be 'when we grow up' don't always come true. I mean, look at yourself. Are you an author and illustrator of children's books? I'm thinking not because I haven't seen anything with your name on it in the bookstore lately." I wasn't trying to be mean, but sometimes I just get so annoyed when people pigeonhole me. Like, it's a crime or something that I didn't become a businesswoman like everyone expected me to.
"No, I'm not," Mal said quietly. I had hurt her feelings. Damn it.
"I'm sorry, Mal. I didn't mean to phrase it like that. But I get kinda touchy about my career sometimes. I know soaps are viewed in a negative light by a lot of people, and sometimes I feel like I'm being judged because I choose to work on one instead of pursuing fame and glory on the big screen, you know?"
"Yeah, I can understand that. I didn't mean to judge you. Actually I was calling for a reason."
"I figured you must be - I haven't talked to you since I moved to California, what, ten years ago? Wow. Has it really been ten years?"
"'Fraid so. Time flies when you're in LA, huh?" Mallory sounded wistful. All of a sudden I really missed her.
"You sound so sad, Mal! Is everything okay?" It suddenly occurred to me that things might NOT be okay. I started to panic. "Everything's okay, right?"
"Kristy, calm down! Everything's fine. If it weren't I wouldn't have chit-chatted for so long. Actually I was calling to let you know that Jessi and I are invoking the pact we made at the last BSC meeting. Do you remember it?"
Do I remember the pact? I invented it! I never thought it would actually be called into effect though. At the very last meeting of the Baby-Sitters Club, I was so sad that it was over. We were all scattering into different directions (Mal had already left a few years before). I remember looking around the room at all of my best friends, and trying to think up some reason or excuse for the eight of us getting back together someday and reliving our glory days. There was a great movie that I had seen fairly recently, called "Now and Then", in which a group of friends make a pact to always be there for the others if she's needed. I decided that the members of the Baby-Sitters Club should make a similar pact, and we did, sealed with a pizza toast. It was the last pizza toast I ever made - it didn't seem right to make them with my new college friends. It just wasn't the same.
"Yeah, of course I remember the pact. You're really invoking it? Why?"
"I can't tell you on the phone. You have to come to Stoneybrook and find out when the rest of the BSC does."
"WHAT? Are you kidding me? You can't just leave me hanging like that. You have to tell me!"
"I will tell you, but not right now. Okay, so I know we're all busy and have our own lives now, so arranging this might be tricky. But how soon do you think you could get out here for a weekend?"
"Actually, I could come right now. Our show just wrapped for the season, and we're on hiatus for a couple of months. So I could make it this weekend if you want."
"Wow, okay! Let me check with all the other girls and find out what works best for them. I'll call you soon and let you know."
"Okay, let me give you my cell phone number, since I won't be at the studio anymore." I rattled off the number. "Be sure to call me and let me know when to make flight arrangements!"
"Will do, Madame President! I've got two other calls to make, so I should go. But I'll be in touch." We said goodbye and hung up.
I sat down at my dressing table and began reminiscing about days past and all my old friends. Suddenly I couldn't wait to see them all again.