Read an Excerpt
Love Scenes
Make Me a Star, Book Five
By Susan Beth Pfeffer OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA
Copyright © 1986 Susan Beth Pfeffer
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4976-8286-3
CHAPTER 1
"Happy birthday, dear Miranda, happy birthday to you!"
"Thank you," she said, hoping to ward off another chorus from all the famous, though off-key voices. It didn't work.
"How old are you now?
How old are you now?
How old, dear Miranda?
How old are you now?"
"Seventeen, thank goodness," Miranda declared. She felt waves of affection for the people in the studio. She'd known most of them for a year now. It had been just one year ago that she'd come to Hollywood on a vacation trip, and ended up being cast as one of the leads on Hard Time High. A year that had changed every single detail of her life, except her hair color. The best, most exciting, confusing, delightful, terrifying, overwhelming year of her life.
"Cake!" Susie Goldstein yelped, as one of the cameramen wheeled in a tray holding an elaborately decorated cake.
Miranda tried not to laugh too hard at Susie's enthusiasm. Of all the cast members, Susie was the only one who paid no attention to her diet. As a result, she was at least twenty pounds overweight, and stood in stocky contrast to the slender bodies of her castmates.
Miranda looked fondly at everybody gobbling up their usually forbidden pieces of cake. T.J., Nicole, and Bill were in one corner, while Alison and Susie sat together. Rafe and Molly were talking earnestly, undoubtedly about Rafe's recently completed movie role. That was the only thing Rafe talked about these days.
Bill broke away from T.J. and Nicole, and joined Miranda. "Great cake," he said.
"It is, isn't it," Miranda replied. "Not that I baked it."
"No, but you provided the excuse for us all to eat it," Bill said. "For which we are all duly grateful."
Miranda laughed. It felt like she'd done nothing but laugh all day. "I love birthdays," she declared. "Back home, my parents always make such a big deal out of them. I would have missed the fuss."
"So this year, they just moved the fuss out here," Bill said, taking one final lick of icing off his fork.
Miranda nodded. "They should all be here any minute now," she declared, checking her watch. "My aunt and uncle and cousin are picking them up at the airport and bringing them here. I was hoping they'd make it here in time for the cake, but they'll still be cake left for them."
"You should have told us," Bill said. "We could have held off for a few more minutes."
"Susie couldn't have," Miranda replied. "I could see the suffering in her eyes."
"Your nobility astounds me," Bill declared. "We're lucky to have you in the cast."
"I'm lucky to be in the cast," Miranda said. "Boy, am I lucky."
"We all are," Bill said. "This show is the best break any of us could have hoped for."
"I never even hoped," Miranda said. "But I sure am grateful."
"Hi there," Molly said, walking over to Bill and Miranda. "Happy birthday, Miranda."
"Thanks, Molly," Miranda said, feeling that sense of unease she'd developed around Molly ever since their disastrous Thanksgiving together. That had been almost five months ago, and Miranda still wasn't feeling comfortable about the experience. Molly had come as a welcome guest, and somehow in the course of a single week, had stolen the limelight so consistently from Miranda, that Miranda had been forced to kick her out. She still wasn't sure where Molly had gone after Miranda gave her the boot, but they were both back on the set the first day after the hiatus, so Miranda figured nothing too horrible could have happened. And Molly seemed to be pretty much herself, just more distant around Miranda, which was certainly understandable.
"It's your turn, Bill," Molly declared. "Rafe's bored me with talk about his stupid movie for the past ten minutes. It's your shift now."
"All right," Bill said. "See you later, Miranda."
"I don't get it," Miranda said. "What's this about shifts?"
Molly smiled. "We all wanted to give you something special," she said. "Only, Dick said no gifts. So we got together and decided the best thing we could do for you was give you a day off from having to listen to Rafe talk about his stupid movie. We divided the day up into shifts, so he could never collar you. It's a one day special; enjoy it while it lasts."
Miranda laughed. "What a thoughtful gift," she said. "I have to admit I've enjoyed having a vacation from Rafe and his movie."
"It was Alison's idea," Molly declared. "She organized it. Susie signed up for three extra shifts, just so she could have the time with Rafe. Poor Rafe."
"I don't think he minds," Miranda replied. "He'll talk to anybody about that movie, even Susie."
"Egomania is a wonderful thing," Molly declared, and then she licked her lips nervously. "Actually, Miranda, I'm glad we have a chance to talk. We do have the chance, don't we? Now, I mean."
"Sure," Miranda said, hoping Molly wasn't about to ruin her birthday. She felt her smile vanish.
"It's kind of personal," Molly said. "Could we go into our dressing room to talk?"
"I guess so," Miranda replied, but as she started to follow Molly out of the studio, she heard her mother call out her name.
"Mom!" Miranda shouted, and soon she was exchanging hugs and kisses with her parents. Even her brother, Jeremy, put up with a hug, although he seemed almost as happy to see Molly as he was to see Miranda.
After Miranda finished greeting her family, she went through the same process with her aunt and uncle. Her cousin Wendy made a big production of wishing Miranda a happy birthday, but Miranda knew better than to believe it. In a year, Wendy had hardly said five civil words to her.
"You missed the cake," Miranda said. "But I'm so glad you're all here."
"The flight was late," Miranda's mother replied. "And then we got caught in traffic."
"But we're here now," her father said. "Happy birthday, darling."
"Thanks, Dad," Miranda said, suddenly feeling shy. After a year on the set, she felt as home here as she did in Massachusetts, but having her family here made her feel self-conscious.
"So this is where you work," Wendy said.
Miranda nodded.
"If you can call it work," Wendy said, but she laughed as she said it, to show she was joking.
Miranda joined in the laughter. It was easier than explaining just how hard the work could be. Not that Wendy would have cared.
"Hi there, everybody," Dick Goldstein said, walking into the studio. "How late am I?"
"You missed the cake," Susie told him.
"You should have, too," Dick told her. "Happy birthday, Miranda. And look at all these Newgates. Larry, Jean, what a pleasure to see you again."
"Hello, Dick," Miranda's father said, and the men shook hands. "Have you met my brother and sister-in-law?"
"I certainly have," Dick said. "Wendy, you're looking charming."
"Thank you," Wendy muttered.
"Have we used you as an extra on the show yet?" Dick asked.
Wendy shook her head.
"Welcome to Hard Time High," he said. "Call my office tomorrow, and we'll make the arrangements. We can always use another pretty girl in our hallways."
"Thank you," Wendy said.
Miranda could have hugged Dick. She had never had the nerve to ask if Wendy could work there, and she knew Wendy held it against her that she hadn't.
"And this must be Jeremy?" Dick said.
Jeremy, who was usually never at a loss for words, simply nodded. Miranda grinned.
"It's a pleasure to meet you at last," Dick said. "Miranda has told me how brilliant you are."
"What does Molly say?" Jeremy asked.
"I say you're a pest," Molly declared, giving him a swat on the arm.
"I am not!" Jeremy shouted.
"Children," Miranda's mother said.
Miranda held her breath to see how Molly would react, but all Molly did was smile. "Sorry," she said.
"It's okay," Miranda's mother said, smiling back. Miranda felt a familiar twinge. The few times Molly's mother had attempted to discipline Molly on the set, Molly had ignored her. But one sharp word from Miranda's mother, and Molly was behaving like the perfect daughter.
"I know we said no presents, but I have one for Miranda," Dick declared. "It's the boss's perogative to break his own rules."
"A present," Miranda said. "You shouldn't have, Dick."
"Oh, yes, I should have," Dick told her. "Because in a very real sense, this isn't just a present for you. It's a present for Hard Time High as well."
"What?" Miranda asked. "I mean ..." She wasn't sure what she meant, so she fell silent.
"Doug, come over here," Dick said, and soon Miranda and her family were joined by a distinguished gray-haired gentleman. He looked familiar to Miranda, but she couldn't figure out how.
"I'd like you all to meet Douglas Welles," Dick said.
"Of course," Miranda's Aunt Terry said. "That's who you are. I used to see you on Doctors' Hospital. You were Dr. Franklin."
"I hope you won't hold that against me," Doug said. "I was younger then, and in dire need of money."
"I have a lot of introductions to make here," Dick said. "And make them I will in a few minutes, but first, Miranda, I'd like you to meet your father."
"What?" Miranda said again.
"She can't meet her father," Jeremy said. "She already knows him. He's standing right here."
"You're right, Jeremy," Dick said. "Miranda, I'd like you to meet Sally's father."
"Sally's father," Miranda said, the words sinking in. "Oh, Dick, do you mean Sally is getting a father?"
"She certainly is," Dick said. "Doug has graciously agreed to play Sally's long-lost father for four weeks."
"Sally's getting a father," Miranda said. "Oh, Mom, do you know what that means?"
"No," Miranda's mother said. "Frankly, I'm confused. I thought Sally was an orphan, and that's why she was living with her aunt."
"Sally's mother died right before the series began," Dick said. "And Sally had been living with her in France. But we very carefully never mentioned what had become of her father. It's always handy to have some unplayed cards in the deck, in case we want to expand one of the character's storylines."
"And you're going to be expanding mine?" Miranda asked. She tried not to shriek with pleasure, since she was aware of being the center of everybody's attention. Even Rafe had quieted down for the moment, and was listening to her and Dick.
Dick nodded. "Sally's father is going to drop in on her life," he said. "A charming scoundrel, right, Doug?"
"As charming a scoundrel as I can manage," Doug said. "Not at all the nice Dr. Franklin from Doctors' Hospital."
"Leaving Sally to decide whether she should join her father in his jetsetting ways and give up the life she's made for herself at Hard Time High," Dick said. "Four juicy weeks for you, Miranda. You've worked hard for it, and you deserve it. Don't you agree, Molly."
Miranda looked sharply at Molly. Up until then, Molly been given all the best storylines. How was she going to feel about sharing the spotlight with Miranda for a change?
"I knew Miranda was a winner the moment I met her," Molly said. "Way back, a year ago. I'm only surprised it's taken you this long to figure it out, Dick."
"I've known it all along as well," Dick said. "But we needed just the right storyline to feature Miranda in. And now we have it."
"And I love it," Miranda declared. "Sally has a father. What a fabulous birthday present. Thank you, Dick."
"You're very welcome, Miranda," Dick replied. "I know there are going to be many happy returns of this day, not just for you, but for all of us at Hard Time High as well."
CHAPTER 2
"So this is your dressing room," Miranda's father said as he, Miranda's mother, and Miranda sat down for a few minutes of quiet conversation. "Somehow I pictured something more glamorous."
"It's functional," Miranda said. "Mirrors and chairs, and a closet with a lock. We don't spend much time here, really."
"No, of course not," Miranda's father replied. "I guess I got my ideas from old Joan Crawford movies."
"There are no new Joan Crawford movies," Miranda's mother pointed out. "Larry, we don't have all that much time. Don't you think we should get to the point."
"Certainly," Miranda's father said. "We'd like to discuss our birthday present for you."
"Discuss?" Miranda said.
"The problem is we feel outshone," Miranda's mother said. "Our present pales in comparison to an expanded storyline."
"I know I'll love it, whatever it is," Miranda declared. "So what is it?"
Miranda's father laughed. "Greed always was one of your more charming qualities," he said.
"It isn't greed on your birthday," Miranda informed him.
"Fair enough," he said. "All right. Here's our present, and we hope you like it. Your mother and I have talked it over and we've decided you're old enough to have your own car."
"The only problem being we can't afford to buy you one," Miranda's mother said. "So we're giving you the down payment, and you'll have to make the rest of the payments yourself. Is that all right?"
"My own car! That's great!" Miranda said. "It will make my life so much easier."
"We'll go shopping with you, if you like," Miranda's father said. "To make sure you buy something safe and sensible."
"I'd appreciate it," Miranda said, all her dreams of a sports car vanishing in a flash. Still, even a station wagon would be better than nothing. And the fact that her parents were letting her own a car at all was proof that they were coming to respect her new independence. "Thanks, Mom and Dad. It's a lovely gift."
"There's something else we want to discuss with you," Miranda's father said. "Your current living arrangements."
"What about them?" Miranda asked.
"Please understand we haven't discussed this with Clark and Terry," Miranda's mother said, "so don't think we're expressing their wishes on the subject."
Miranda held her breath. Was it possible her parents were going to tell her she could get an apartment of her own? It was a fantasy she'd only occasionally let herself dream. Things had been so uncomfortable at her aunt and uncle's house, staying there as an nonpaying boarder. Her aunt and uncle didn't seem to mind, but Miranda never felt at home there, and Wendy made things as unpleasant as possible.
Miranda knew she was mature enough to have her own apartment, but she also knew she was mature enough to have a car of her own months before her parents had granted their permission. There was more than a three-hour time gap in their way of looking at her.
"If you're still interested, and Molly and her mother don't mind, we'd be happy to have you live with them," Miranda's mother said.
Miranda almost didn't hear her, she was so involved with her fantasy of her own apartment. "Molly?" she said.
"Of course, we'd have to meet Mrs. O'Malley," Miranda's father said.
"Ms. O'Malley," Miranda said automatically. "It's her stage name. Call her Maggie."
"Maggie, then," Miranda's father said. "All we really know about her is what we've seen of her on Hard Time High and the things Molly told us about her when she visited over Thanksgiving."
Miranda remembered the line Molly had delivered about her mother. Maggie O'Malley had come off as a cross between Whistler's mother and Betty Crocker. The reality, as Molly and Miranda both knew, was that Maggie partied a lot harder than she worked, and could barely tell the difference between a can opener and a vacuum cleaner.
Did she want to live with Molly and Maggie? Probably not, she realized. While it was a way out of living with Wendy, it would probably mean moving from one cauldron of tension into another.
"We thought we could all get together for brunch on Sunday," Miranda's mother said. "Maggie and Molly and the four of us. That way your father and I would have a chance to get to know Maggie before any plans were made."
"Fine," Miranda said, seeing the way out. Once her parents met Maggie, they'd be sure to decide it was a bad idea. That way Miranda wouldn't have to make the decision.
"Oh," Molly said, opening the door. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were all in here."
"That's all right, Molly," Miranda's father said. "We just borrowed your dressing room for a few minutes."
"Great," Molly said. "It could use the extra class. I'll leave you guys alone if you want."
"We should be getting to the hotel," Miranda's mother said, checking her watch. "How was Jeremy doing out there?"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Love Scenes by Susan Beth Pfeffer. Copyright © 1986 Susan Beth Pfeffer. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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