Chapter 13

Our life revolved around the movie for the next two months. George ended up loving Abby’s thoughtful and skillful script corrections, and once the screenwriter realized George didn’t care how he felt about it, he turned over a new leaf and stopped whining like an idiot.

The one dark spot of the movie was the unexplained accidents that kept occurring. It was like the movie had its own gremlin causing trouble for the producers. Sometimes it was a special light that failed in the middle of filming, spoiling the take, or the lunch catering order that was never delivered. There were several suspicious incidents that plagued production, each costing money and time.

While Abby worked day and night revising lines, I was wandering the lot watching for evidence that someone specific was behind the problems, instead of poor luck. Abby and I often met up while I was nosing around. We always stole a few moments to kiss and love on each other, before she had to get back work. Sometimes Abby would wander in to watch a scene being shot, and then run off to work something into the script that seeing the actors execute her lines brought to mind.

She started with one intern, but George gave her three more, because she was emailing edits to her staff night and day. Someone was always awake to deal with her brainstorms, and George loved her for it. Her devotion freed me up to investigate the trouble.

It came to an end the afternoon that the director announced that the last scene had gone perfectly and that he was wrapping production. Abby looked crestfallen when she realized that her career as a screenwriter was already over. I held her in my arms, on my lap, in her office while she sniffled.

Some things are just meant to be, because George asked us to skip the wrap party and meet with him and the director the moment they got free from the well-wishers. “Abby, Lance loved the work you did and has asked for you to work on our next three movies...”

I could feel the energy surge into Abby when she heard the news, but before she could reply, Lance spoke up. “Abby, your fresh eye on things really helped me push the cast to do better. Sometimes we all get stale and these cable ready movies can do that to you, but once you got started, your energy and happiness infected how I directed.

“We seriously need you for all three sequels. Will you do it?” Lance was in his late thirties, and showed the scars of the Hollywood studio wars. He was quiet and fierce in his work, but there was none of the prim donna in him that so many people hated about Hollywood people.

“I’d love to ... But are these being made in California, because I’m not sure about living out there...”

George interrupted, “We are making all three right here and a bunch more, besides. My company bought the entire corporate park because this has worked out so well. We even the like the easy pace and quiet environment. The existing leases are all short term, and we’ve let everyone affected by our expansion plans know that their building will not be subject to lease extension. Several volunteered to break and leave early if we waive the charge for vacating early, which we did.

“But that is not all of our news. Mark, I’d like you to join the studio as an Associate Producer and learn to produce movies. I don’t mean another person following me around like the current A.P. I need someone I can mentor to keep things moving, support the director, iron out problems, solve mysteries, stamp out crime, and generally be willing to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

“It pays quite well, but I suspect you don’t care about that. In the movie business you have to look the part of a producer or the crew will think you’re a nothing and walk all over you.

“Here’s the deal ... We begin pre-production in five weeks, and the vacated buildings need to be retrofitted so Lance can dive right in and not lose time while we redo things that should have been done right the first time. THAT is something I trust you to do. It should be easy for a smart, young guy like you. Once you have everything explained to you, I think you will be a huge success producing made for TV movies.

“How about it, Kids? Will you join me?” We talked for over two hours, ironing out details, making plans, and having the facts of production life explained to me in small words, so that I could absorb it all.

George seemed thrilled to have us both on board and invited us back to his condo for a celebratory drink. When we arrived I caught sight of someone vandalizing George’s prized possession. They took off when our SUV turned into the condo, but I leaped out and gave chase, just managing to grab the back of the vandal’s coat, which came right off with a wig that covered the woman’s head.

It was a middle aged woman damaging the Excalibur?!? George looked terribly sad when I came back with coat and wig in hand. It was obvious that he knew more than he was saying.

When we walked into George’s condo I was struck by a photo of a much younger George and a teenage girl who looked remarkably like Abby. I was so taken by the photo that George seemed to feel the need to explain himself. “When you picked me up the day my car broke down, you took me home and introduced Abby. For me it was like turning back the clock forty years.

“That is my daughter Jeanne. She died just a few days after that photo was taken. Jeanne was seventeen when she was killed by a hit and run driver...” He brushed imaginary specks of dust off the photo frame and went on. “Jeanne was the Sun in my sky. After she died, contrary Mary never really spoke to me again.

“I made tons of money in those days, but nothing seemed to satisfy contrary Mary. And when Jeanne died, she decided that we had nothing left between us and left ... Jeanne was the only good thing me and contrary Mary ever did.” The sadness was clear in his sad expression and deep sigh.

“Now about all I hear from her are new demands from her lawyer, which my lawyers ignore. Every so often she hauls me into court and tries to convince some judge that she deserves the fruit of my work even though we’ve been divorced for well over twenty-five years.

“I guess some women are just never satisfied. The size of their appetite enlarges to include whatever they think they can get, or convince themselves that they deserve.

“Then she made the mistake of marrying a man that was not nearly as wealthy as she thought, and that cut her off from the alimony checks that came from me. When he declared bankruptcy, she hired some ambulance chaser to sue me for what I would have paid if she hadn’t voluntarily vacated her right to those checks.” He never once took his eyes off of Jeanne’s picture while he talked about his failed marriage.