Honey Moon (10 page)

Still, Honey felt sorry for them. None of them knew how to have real fun in a swimming pool. Occasionally, one of the men did a neat dive off the low board or swam a few slow laps. And a couple of women with diamonds in their ears squatted down in the water while they talked to each other, but they didn't even get their shoulders wet, let alone their hair.

What fun was it to be rich if you couldn't enjoy a swimming pool? Kicking off her flip-flops, she raced toward the water and, giving her best rebel yell, did a cannonball right into the deep end. The splash she sent up was one of her best.

When she surfaced, she saw that everybody had turned to look at her. She called over to the people closest to her, a darkly tanned man and woman, both of whom had telephones pressed to their ears.

"Y'all should come in. The water's real nice."

They averted their eyes and went back to their phone conversations.

She dove beneath the water and swam along the bottom. The tank suit was too big and the nylon ballooned around her rear. She surfaced to catch her breath, then again dove for the bottom. As the peaceful underwater world engulfed her, she once again tried to sort out what was happening. Why had Dash Coogan wanted to videotape her? He had said he wasn't trying to get her into trouble with the police, but what if he'd been lying?

She came to the surface and flipped over onto her back. Water filled her ears and her chopped hair floated unevenly around her head. She thought about Eric Dillon and wondered if she would ever see

him again. He was the handsomest man she had ever met. It was funny, though.

When she'd casually mentioned his name, Chantal had gotten this strange look on her face and told Honey that Eric Dillon was scary. Honey had never heard Chantal say such a thing about a person in her life, and she figured her cousin must have gotten the real Eric Dillon mixed up with that character he played on the soap opera.

Half an hour later she was climbing out of the pool to do another cannonball off the diving board when she saw Ross Bachardy coming toward her. She nodded politely at the producer, but inside she felt like crying. She'd known their time in paradise had to come to an end, but she'd been hoping for one more day. She walked over to her lounge chair, retrieved her towel, and tucked it high into her armpits.

"Hello, Honey. Your cousin told me you were out here. Are you enjoying your stay?"

"It's about the best place I've ever been in my life."

"That's good. I'm glad you like it. Could we sit over here and talk?" He gestured toward a table tucked into the greenery.

She thought it was nice of him to show up personally to kick them out, but she wished he'd just get it over with. "It's your nickel." She followed him over to the table and pulled out a chair with her foot so she didn't lose the beach towel anchored under her arms. He looked hot in his taffy-colored sports coat, and she couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.

"It's a shame you didn't bring your trunks along so you could take a swim. The water's real nice."

He smiled. "Maybe another time." A waiter appeared.

The producer ordered some kind of foreign beer for himself and an Orange Crush for her. Then he hit

her with his bombshell.

"Honey, we want to cast you as the daughter in
The Dash Coogan Show
."

She thought she must have pool water in her ears. "Beg your pardon?"

"We want you to play Dash Coogan's daughter."

She gaped at him. "You want
me
to play Celeste?"

"Not exactly. We're making some changes in the show, and we've gotten rid of that character. All of us liked that videotape you and Dash made together, and it gave us a few ideas that we're quite excited about. The details aren't worked out yet, but we think we have something special."

"You want me?"

"We certainly do. You'll be playing Janie, Dash's thirteen-year-old daughter.

Dash and Eleanor won't be newlyweds anymore." He began to outline a story line for her, but she couldn't seem to take it in and eventually she interrupted in a voice that had a funny little squeak to it.

"No offense, Mr. Bachardy, but that's the craziest idea I've ever heard. I can't be an actress. I'm not the slightest bit pretty. Did you look close at my mouth—

like a big old sucker fish? It's Chantal you should be casting in that part, not me."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that."

Something he'd said earlier suddenly hit her. "Thirteen? But I'm sixteen years old."

"You're small, Honey. You can easily pass for thirteen."

Normally she wouldn't have swallowed such an insult, but she was too stunned to be offended.

Ross went on, giving her more details about the show and then talking about contracts and agents. Honey felt as if her head was spinning right off her neck, just like that poor little girl in
The Exorcist.
The breeze raised goose bumps on her skin as she realized how fiercely she wanted all this to be true. She was smart and ambitious. This was her chance to make something of herself instead of expending all of her energy trying to prod Chantal. But a TV star? Not even in her wildest imagination could she have conjured up something like that.

Ross began to talk about salary, and the amounts he mentioned were so astronomical she could barely comprehend them. Her mind raced. This would change everything for them.

He pulled a small notebook from his suit-coat pocket. "You're a minor, so before we can go any farther with this, I'll need to meet with your legal guardian."

Honey fumbled with her glass of Orange Crush.

"You do have a guardian?"

"Of course I do. My Aunt Sophie. Mrs. Earl T. Booker."

"I'll need her phone number so I can call her to arrange for a meeting. Thursday at the latest. We'll fly her out at our expense, of course."

She tried to imagine Sophie getting on a plane, but she couldn't even imagine her getting up off the couch. "She's been sick lately. Uh—female trouble. I don't think she'll come to California. She's afraid to fly. Plus the female trouble."

He looked disturbed. "That's going to be a problem, but you'll have to get an agent to represent you anyway and he can take care of it. I'll give you a list of some of the better ones. We begin filming in six weeks, so you'll need to get it taken care of right away." The lines around his mouth grew deeper, "I have to tell you, Honey, that I think it was unwise of you to have come all the way to California without an adult."

"I came with an adult," Honey reminded him. "Chantal's eighteen."

He wasn't impressed.

After she returned to the room, she stumbled all over herself explaining what had happened, and Chantal and Gordon started whooping and hollering so much that before long they were all rolling around on the floor and acting crazy. When she settled down, she remembered what Mr. Bachardy had said about getting an agent and she pulled out the list of the names he had given her.

She began to reach for the telephone, and then her eyes narrowed. She might be a redneck girl from South Carolina, and she certainly didn't know anything about agents or Hollywood, but she wasn't born yesterday either. Why should she trust Mr. Bachardy to give her a name? Wasn't that a little bit like trusting the fox to guard the chickens?

She considered the problem while she changed from her bathing suit back into her shorts. She didn't know anybody in Hollywood, so who could she turn to for advice? And then she smiled and picked up the phone.

The Beverly Hills Hotel prided itself on handling every emergency, even helping one of its guests find an agent, and by noon the next day the concierge had helped Honey hire Arthur Lockwood, an aggressive young lawyer who worked for one of the better-known talent agencies and promised to fly to South Carolina to meet with Aunt Sophie.

That night as Honey drifted off to sleep, she could hear the distant roar of Black Thunder in her ears.

She smiled against her pillow. There's always hope.

6

THE DASH COOGAN SHOW

Episode One

EXTERIOR. TEXAS DIRT ROAD—LATE AFTERNOON. AS THEME

MUSIC/CREDITS ROLL . . .

A battered pickup truck shudders to a stop, steam rising from the hood. CLOSE

ON worn pair of cowboy boots emerging from cab. Boot kicks tire then walks around side to back and pulls out saddle. A second pair of boots emerges from the cab, this one small. Together, they begin walking down the flat Texas road, their heels kicking up puffs of dust. Smaller pair occasionally takes two steps to keep up with larger pair. As theme music ends, we hear voices: JANIE'S VOICE

Promise me you'll try this time, Pop. Promise me you won't quit after two days like last time.

We need a home, a place to settle down.

Both pairs of boots stop in front of a picket fence gate with peeling white paint.

DASH'S VOICE

Nobody likes a nagging woman, Janie. When you gonna learn that?

JANIE'S VOICE

I'm not a woman. I'm thirteen.

DASH'S VOICE

You're a thorn in my side is what you are.

JANIE'S VOICE

Do you really mean that?

DASH'S VOICE

(softening)

Naw.

ANGLE TO DASH. CLOSE on his rodeo champion belt buckle. WIDER

ANGLE to Dash and Janie. They look hot, thirsty, and tired.

EXTERIOR. FRONT YARD OF PDQ RANCH.

Dash opens gate. They begin moving up sidewalk to dilapidated ranch house.

DASH

I'm a rodeo rider, Janie. Not a ranch manager. And this spread isn't even respectable. It's a dude ranch. I still plan on tanning your hide for forging my name on that job application.

JANIE

You used to be a rodeo rider, Pop, but you're not anymore. You heard what the doc said. No

more broncs unless you want to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair.

DASH

At least I'd have something underneath me that moved.

JANIE

What about that cocktail waitress in El Paso?

DASH

Janie?

JANIE

Yeah, Pop?

DASH

Remind me to tan your hide.

EXTERIOR. PDQ RANCH HOUSE FRONT PORCH

ELEANOR CHADWICK steps out looking harried. She is beautiful, perfectly coiffed, and too stylishly dressed for her surroundings. She speaks to someone still in the house.

ELEANOR

I don't care if we do have a horse foaling. Dusty can call an obstetrician.

I'm going into Goose

Creek and see if there's anyone in that godforsaken town who knows how to give a cucumber/ Grand Marnier facial.

She spots Dash and Janie.

Oh, Lord, what now?

Dash and Janie stop at the bottom of the stairs. Dash sets down saddle. He and Eleanor take each other in. He is a handsome man, and she can't help admiring him. On the other hand, she hates everything about the West, including cowboys.

ELEANOR

My, my. If it isn't Wyatt Earp and Billy the Kidette.

Eleanor's sarcasm doesn't go over well with Dash. Although he has a weakness for beautiful women, her patronizing attitude sets his teeth on edge. Janie knows her father too well and quickly intercedes.

JANIE

Howdy, ma'am. My name's Janie Jones. This here is my pop, Mr. Dash Jones. He's your new ranch manager.

DASH

I'll do my own talking, Jane Marie.

ELEANOR

(taking in Dash)

They certain do grow them big out here in the West. It must be from smoking all that sagebrush. You're late, by the way. You were supposed to be here yesterday. If you're going to work for me, you'll have to be more reliable.

DASH

(resting one boot on the step)

Well, you see ma'am, that's just it. I'm not going to be working for you. I just remembered that I

got a better offer from this fellow who runs a rattlesnake ranch right off the interstate. All he wants me to do is hand-feed those critters. The way I figure it, the company'd be more polite.

ELEANOR

(indignantly)

Of all the gall. You're fired, do you hear me? I wouldn't have you working for me if you were the last ranch manager in Texas.

DASH

That's just fine with me, ma'am, because from the looks of this place, you won't be in business much longer.

Janie's eyes dart from her father to Eleanor and back ogain. Realizing she has to do something, she clutches her stomach and falls down on porch, groaning loudly. Eleanor looks alarmed and runs to her side, fussing over her.

ELEANOR

What's wrong? What's wrong with her?

DASH

(impervious to Janie's dramatic groans)

I'd watch yourself there, ma'am. When she gets like this, she has a tendency to upchuck, and

I don't think the color scheme would coordinate with those nice clothes of yours.

Janie's groans intensify. Eleanor becomes more alarmed. She continues to fuss over Janie.

ELEANOR

Do something, will you! What kind of a father are you to let your child suffer like this?

DASH

It's probably just another busted appendix. She gets them all the time. I wouldn't trouble yourself.

With that. Dash picks Janie up and throws her over his shoulder.

ANGLE TO SIDE OF HOUSE WITH BARN IN BACKGROUND

BLAKE CHADWICK comes running toward the house. A handsome and charming young man, he's dressed in jeans and a work shirt, both obviously new. But even though he's a city slicker, Blake likes the PDQ Ranch, and he wants to make a go of it.

Janie's screams stop as she spots Blake. She stares at him open-mouthed. He's the handsomest man

she's ever seen, and at the age of thirteen, she falls in love for the first time.

BLAKE

Mom, Dusty says the foal's not turned right. We're going to lose both the foal and the mare if that vet doesn't get here soon. And the trail party that left this morning should have been back hours

ago. I'm going to have to go after them.

ELEANOR

That's impossible! You don't know the trails, and you'll get lost yourself.

Where is that vet? How could he do something like this? If your father weren't already dead, I'd kill him for leaving me this awful ranch in his will. I swear, I'll sell it to the first person who makes me a decent offer. If it weren't for this horrid place, I could be lunching at the Russian Tea Room right now with Cissy