Chapter 8 #2
With a new sense of urgency, Julia emailed Olivia Munoz first thing the next morning to ask if they could meet for a chat.
Then, over a simple breakfast of coffee and a grapefruit with a sprinkling of toasted walnuts, she made a list of other likely
willing campers. If the most popular members of the cast and crew agreed to attend, others would be encouraged to come, compelled
by the fear of missing out. Julia was debating whether to include special guest stars or focus only on the regulars when her
computer pinged, signaling Olivia’s reply to her email.
“Hey, Julia!” Olivia had written. “So you’d like to chat today, out of the blue, while we’re on hiatus? Sounds ominous! Curiosity
officially piqued. Why don’t you join me for my Zumba class in Westwood at 10 AM? Or meet me afterward, if you’d rather skip
the workout. If neither works for you, let me know what would. Cheers!”
Julia promptly wrote back to say that she’d never done Zumba before but it sounded like fun and ten o’clock would be perfect.
By the time she finished her coffee and tidied up, Olivia had written back with the studio’s address and a list of a few items she might want to bring along—a water bottle and towel, and a change of clothes and a shower caddy.
Julia packed up her favorite sporty tote, and soon, dressed in close-fitting, stretchy workout attire and appropriate footwear,
she was driving east on the Pacific Coast Highway toward LA. Traffic was remarkably reasonable for that hour, so she arrived
twenty minutes early. The studio was tucked into a business development with a broad sidewalk winding through a narrow green
space, so she passed the time warming up with brisk walking and stretches while keeping an eye out for Olivia. As the hour
approached and Olivia still hadn’t appeared, Julia entered the studio, purchased a one-day pass, and set off to find the proper
room. Either Olivia had arrived even earlier than herself and was holding places for them, or she would rush in at the last
minute, in which case Julia should grab spots for them both. It wasn’t until Julia entered the room and recognized the enviably
fit woman adjusting the sound system that she realized when Olivia had called it her Zumba class, she’d meant that she was the instructor.
And an encouraging, engaging, yet formidable instructor she proved to be. Julia had to modify some of the more difficult movements,
but she could handle rigorous cardio thanks to her hiking habit, and she had long ago mastered the professional survival skill
of learning unfamiliar choreography quickly. She was definitely panting by the time class reached the midpoint, and she was
grateful for her towel since she worked up quite a sweat, but she enjoyed herself, and the vigorous workout had allowed her
to forget her worries for a while.
Afterward several other students lingered to chat with Olivia, so Julia waited her turn, exchanging smiles and greetings with
a few who apparently recognized her, unless they were just being friendly to an obvious newcomer. “You came,” Olivia exclaimed,
pleased, when Julia could approach. “You did so well today. What did you think of the class?”
“It was so much fun,” Julia said, draping her towel over her shoulders. “And you, Olivia, you’re amazing! I never knew you were a fitness instructor.”
Olivia gave a little laugh as she squatted gracefully and began packing up her gym bag. “I’m a working actor, Julia. I have
to have a survival job, and I’d rather do this than wait tables.” Rising, she slipped the strap over her shoulder and smiled.
“I’d give it all up for a career like yours—starring roles in one series after another, the occasional movie thrown in, awards,
acclaim. You’re living the dream.”
“Only until something wakes me up,” Julia said ruefully. When Olivia laughed, she added, “But what about all your voice work?
You’ve been in almost every major animated film released in the past few years, and your series must be in its tenth season
by now.”
“Ninth, actually,” Olivia replied in the gravelly drawl of one of her most popular characters. In her own voice, she added,
“I know I’m lucky to have something so consistent in addition to my guest appearances in Patchwork. All the rest is gig work, one supporting role here and another over there. I actually just got cast to voice a car in a
kid’s movie.”
“A car?” Julia asked. Students for the next class were beginning to file in, so when Olivia beckoned, Julia followed her to
the locker room. “A talking car, like KITT in Knight Rider?”
“Not quite. I’m playing a cute Mazda Miata who’s a NASCAR fan. It’ll make sense when you see the movie.”
“Of course,” said Julia, although she doubted it.
“Are you up for nutrition afterward?” Olivia asked as she held open the locker room door for her. “They make a fabulous green
tea antioxidant smoothie here.”
“Sure, sounds great.” Julia liked green tea in its standard form, so why not?
Before long they were showered, changed, and poised on stools at the nutrition bar, sipping a surprisingly tasty, vividly green concoction of almond milk, spinach, matcha powder, and a few other healthful ingredients through paper straws.
“So, given that you’re exceptionally busy,” Julia ventured, “how would you feel about spending a week at a quilter’s retreat in gorgeous, restful central Pennsylvania to refresh your quilting skills? ”
“Sure,” said Olivia, shrugging. “When do we leave?”
For a moment, Julia was dumbfounded. “That’s it? You don’t need the sales pitch?”
“No, I’m in. Although if you don’t want your sales pitch rehearsals to go to waste, I’ll listen. I’ll even give you notes
if you like.”
“No, that’s fine. I might accidentally say something to change your mind. As for when we leave, camp begins on Sunday, November
seventh. All expenses paid.”
“I’ll be there.” Then Olivia paused to think. “Although that would mean missing a final interview for a gig. Don’t worry.
It wouldn’t interfere with Patchwork—unless I suddenly get promoted to series regular.”
“Wouldn’t that be fun, to have Sadie and Charity sparring more often?” said Julia. “But as much as I’d love to have you at
quilt camp, I couldn’t ask you to throw away a shot at a great role.”
“I’m not sure how great it is, to be honest. It’s for a celebrity edition of Survivor.”
“Survivor?” Julia echoed, aghast. “Isn’t that the show where they abandon you in some desolate wilderness and you can’t bathe for weeks
and you have to eat bugs?”
“That’s an apt description, although eating bugs isn’t limited to Survivor. It’s standard repertoire of the reality genre.”
“Oh, Olivia, no. If you have to do reality television, do something cultural or artistic, like The Amazing Race or Dancing with the Stars.”
“If I could get cast, I would. But if I have to choose between suffering on Survivor or quilting with my Patchwork friends, sign me up for quilt camp.”
“Consider yourself cast, no audition required.” Julia regarded her curiously. “To be honest, I thought I’d have to work a lot harder to convince you.”
“It’s simple, really. I don’t have a clue how to quilt. I barely know how to sew on a button. Charity is never invited to
Sadie’s quilting bees, and the one time she quilted with her mother in season two, they had to hire a stunt quilter for me.
Since then, the writers have never had me even thread a needle on camera. If I learn how to quilt, maybe Charity will appear
in some of those quilting bee scenes. I’d definitely like to be prepared if the opportunity arises.”
Julia studied her. “Have you been talking to Ellen?”
“No, not recently. Have you?”
“Let’s just say that particular opportunity might come along soon.”
Olivia’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” She sipped her smoothie, thoughtful. “But it would have to be soon, wouldn’t it, since season six will be our last?”
“Maybe it will be, maybe not. In my opinion, we have another few years of exceptional storytelling in us. I’m not ready to
wrap just yet.”
“Neither am I,” said Olivia. “I need all the gigs I can cobble together. You know who else you should invite? Paige.”
“Who?”
“Paige Lyons. She’s new to the cast, but she was at your season premiere party, so you must have met her. She plays Anabelle,
the beautiful niece of railroad baron Theodore Wedgington.”
“Jesse’s love interest?” Julia asked. “The girl who looks like a young Elizabeth Taylor? I thought her name was Paula. Or
Pamela.”
Olivia shook her head, amused. “It’s definitely Paige. Quilt camp would give her a chance to get to know the rest of the cast
before we begin table reads for season six. She only appeared in that one scene in the season five finale, and I think Noah
was the only other actor on set with her that day. And like me, she might want to increase her skill set so she can wrestle
her way into more scenes.”
“Good idea. I’ll reach out to her.”
“She’ll be very happy to hear from you,” said Olivia, a note of warning in her voice.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Julia. “Certainly better than the alternative.”
Olivia only smiled cryptically and sipped her smoothie.
Later, back at home, Julia found Paige’s contact information among the Evite list for her season premiere party and dashed
off a breezy email. “Hello, Paige,” she began. “I hope you’re enjoying our hiatus and looking forward to our first table read
in January. Would you have time for a quick chat sometime soon, just us? Cheers, Julia.”
She spent the afternoon pleasantly in her sewing room, finishing up her Harriet’s Journey block and listening to classical
music on the radio. It didn’t occur to her to check her email until she passed by her computer on the way to prepare supper,
and she was surprised to see that Paige had responded to her note not quite five minutes after she had sent it. “Hello, Miss