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“As a writer, it’s pretty rare that I get dolled up,” Barbie joked to Aurora.
“Do you mind if we take off the, um…” The makeup artist squinted at Barbie, as though she were a real problem.
“Just ask,” Barbie urged her. “I won’t be offended.”
The makeup artist looked at her hairdresser colleague, winced, and said, “There’s a little bit of dark hair above the lips?”
Barbie knocked her head back, laughing wildly in a way that made the hairdresser very upset, as she had a hairbrush half-in her tangled curls. Aurora’s heart doubled its size at Barbie’s shenanigans.
“Take it all away, darling,” Barbie said. “Maybe I’ll find myself a Nantucket man after all. Aurora already has.”
Aurora’s cheeks burned, and when Barbie realized her embarrassment, she reached across the space between them, took her hand, and said, “I’m sorry to tease you. You just looked happy as a clam last night. It reminded me of a few men in my past. And, to be honest with you, after dinner, I ended up writing pages and pages of a story that I’d nearly forgotten, one from my past. It’s like, seeing you and your friend so happy in the light reminded me that I’ve lived so many lives, and some of those lives deserve stories.”
Aurora smiled and squeezed Barbie’s hand. After a dramatic pause, she asked, “Have you ever been on television?”
Barbie’s smile fell away. “I haven’t. Have you?”
Aurora shook her head. “Never. And I hate to admit it, but I’m a little scared.”
Above her, the hairdresser laughed kindly. “You’ll be fantastic. Are you the musician slash painter?”
“She is,” Barbie said, then added, “They took a few shots of your painting in your studio, I guess, just to show what you’ve been working on.”
Suddenly, Aurora’s gut seized. “They did what?”
Barbie wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure you can ask them not to show it.”
But already, Aurora’s thoughts swirled into a violet tornado. Although she fought her mother’s voice, it was deep in the back of her mind, telling her that everyone was after her talent, hungry for what she could do for them or what money she could make for them. They wanted to steal from her.
After all, so many people had taken advantage of her mother— and then, her mother’s mind had split itself in two.
“Honey, are you okay?” Barbie sat up straighter, looking nervous.
“Oh. I’m fine.”
“It really will be okay,” Barbie assured her. “It’s just a few minutes in front of the camera. Nothing, really.”
But Aurora wasn’t so sure.
Makeup done and hair styled, Aurora waited behind the camera and watched DeeDee Jenkins interview Greta, then Bernard about their lives at The Copperfield House residency pre-Bernard’s time in prison, and their lives, now. Greta got teary-eyed several times, illustrating twenty-five years of pain with only a few sentences, while Bernard spoke excitedly about the “new group of artists” and the incredible life they’d brought to The Copperfield House.
After Greta and Bernard finished their interview, Barbie stepped up, shook DeeDee’s hand, and smiled at the camera nervously.
“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Barbie,” DeeDee began. “Please. Tell us. How is your writing process different here at The Copperfield House? And what about this place, in particular, weaves itself into your work?”
Barbie launched into an explanation that seemed, at least to Aurora, to give too much away.Was Barbie insane?Didn’t she know that someone who watched her could steal her ideas and write them in a book they published under their name instead of hers? Didn’t Barbie know that everyone was out to get her?
Before Barbie’s interview was finished, Aurora scurried to the kitchen of the residency to use the phone. Habit had demanded she memorize Brooks’ phone number, and now, she dialed it, aching to hear his voice.
“Aurora!” Brooks was difficult to hear over the salty rushing air around the phone. “Did they already film you?”
Aurora’s soul lifted at the sound of his voice. “Not yet.” She swallowed. “Do you think it’s really a good idea?”
“Why not?” Brooks suggested, sounding so flippant and free. “It’ll be great to get your name out there, right?”
Aurora stalled, her eyes twitching. A strange thought entered her mind: one of Brooks being in on this.Was he pushing her to be filmed today, to reveal her artistic secrets, as a favor to DeeDee Jenkins? Or even worse, was everyone in The Copperfield House in on it? Were they circling her like hungry sharks, ready to attack her and rip her to shreds? That couldn’t be. Could it?She had to stop letting her thoughts take over like this.
“Aurora?” Brooks called again. “Are you okay?”
