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Shed almost forgotten how this felt, the scary/exhilarating feeling that you might fail. The past years had given her such insulation. Now it was as if she were new again, starting out, trying something only she believed in.
She checked herself in the mirror one last time, pulled the white makeup protector away from her collar, and headed for the studio. Onstage she found Johnny doing about ten things at once, barking out orders.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Honestly? I dont know. "
He walked over, talking into his headpiece as he neared. Pulling the mic away from his mouth, he said quietly to her alone, "Youll be great, you know. I trust you. "
"Thanks. I needed to hear that. "
"Just be yourself. Everyone loves you. "
At his signal, the audience began streaming into the studio. Tully ducked backstage and waited for her cue. When the red lights lit up, she walked onstage.
As always, she stood there a moment, smiling, letting the strangers applause wash through her, fill her to overflowing.
"Today we have a very special show for you. My guest, Dr. Wesley Tillman, is a noted psychiatrist who specializes in addiction recovery and family counseling . . . "
Behind her, a huge screen played a film clip of an overweight man with thinning hair. He was trying not to cry, and losing the battle. "My wife is a good woman, Tallulah. Weve been married for twenty years and we have two beautiful children. The problem is . . . " He paused, wiping his eyes. "Booze. It used to be just cocktail hour with friends, but lately. . . "
The clip showed the disintegration of a family in sound and images.
When it ended, Tully turned back to the audience. She could see how moved they were by the piece. Several women already looked close to tears. "Mr. McAdams is like too many of us, living lives of quiet desperation because of a loved ones addiction. He swears that hes tried everything to convince his wife to go into treatment and quit drinking. Today, with Dr. Tillmans help, were going to try something radical. Mrs. McAdams is backstage, alone, right now. She believes shes won a trip to the Bahamas and is here to collect it. In fact, though, her family—with Dr. Tillmans professional help—is going to confront her about her alcoholism. Our hope is that we can force her to see the truth and seek treatment. "
There was a moment of silence in the audience.
Tully held her breath. Go along with me.
Then applause.
It was all Tully could do not to laugh. She glanced over at Johnny, who was standing in the shadows by Camera 1, giving her a boyish grin and a thumbs-up.
This would help her, fill her up. She would genuinely help this family and America would love her for it.
She stepped back to introduce her guests and from that moment on, the show moved forward like a runaway train. Everyone in the room climbed aboard and loved the ride; they clapped, they moaned, they cheered, they cried. Like an expert ringmaster, Tully controlled it all. She was in the zone; no doubt about it. This was as good as shed ever been on TV.
Winter came all at once that November, settling over the island in a gray and rainy pall. Naked trees shivered in the cold, clung to their blackened, dying leaves as if to let go would mean defeat. Fog rose from the Sound, morning after morning, obscuring the view and changing ordinary noises into muffled, faraway echoes. Ferries honked as they came in and out of port, the sound a mournful dirge in the haze.
It should have provided the perfect setting in which to write a gothic thriller. At least that was what Kate told herself when she began, secretly, to write again.
Unfortunately, it wasnt as easy as she remembered.
She reread what shed just written, then sighed and hit the delete key, watching the letters blink out of existence one by one until she was left once more with a blank blue screen. She tried to come up with a better way to say it, but only more clichés came to her. The tiny white cursor mocked her, waited.
Finally, she pushed away from her desk and stood up. She was too tired to imagine worlds and people and dramatic events right now. It was time to make dinner anyway.
Lately it seemed that she was always exhausted, and yet, when she went to bed she rarely slept well.
She flicked off the light in Johnnys office, closed up her laptop, and went downstairs.
Johnny looked up from The New York Times. "eBay suck you in again?"
She laughed. "Of course. Were the boys good?"
He leaned forward, tousled their hair. "As long as I sing along with poor unfortunate souls, theyre happy as clams. "
She couldnt help smiling at that. Little Mermaid was this weeks favorite movie. That meant they watched it every day if they could.
