Sisters

“Not exactly. I'm dealing with a wildcat strike. And about four hundred other headaches, but I'm okay.” She sounded stressed, and she had been worried about Annie. All of the sisters were pleased with Annie's first day at the Parker School, and so was she.

Sabrina hoped it was a good omen for the future, and they celebrated with a bottle of champagne that night.

Chapter 18

Tammy's week went from bad to worse. Problems with actors, problems with the network, problems with the unions and the scripts. By the end of the week, she was a total mess. And she felt guiltier every day for not being with her sisters to help deal with the aftermath of her mother's death. Her father sounded terrible. And Candy was in Europe for three weeks, so Sabrina was handling everything alone. She was singlehandedly supervising Annie, trying to bolster their father's spirits as best she could from the distance, and carrying an enormous workload at her office. None of it seemed fair. And now with Annie to take care of, and their father to visit whenever she could, she felt as though she hardly had time to see Chris. He slept at the house a few times a week, but she said she barely had time to talk to him. All of the responsibilities were on her shoulders, and no one else's. And even when she had been at home, Candy was too young and immature to really help. She was twenty-one going on twelve, or six.

Tammy spent a long, quiet, reflective weekend. The show was shut down because of the strike, and they already knew they weren't going to be able to shoot the following week because of it. The union said they could hold out for months. And the network was going to lose a fortune if they did. But there was nothing Tammy could do. What she was contemplating now was her own life. She spent a lot of quiet time with Juanita, stroking her quietly as the little dog slept on her lap. Holding the dog always gave Tammy a sense of peace, and by Sunday night she knew what she wanted to do. The decision had been hard. It was the scariest thing she'd ever done.

On Monday morning, she made an appointment with the senior executive producer of the show for later that afternoon. And another appointment with the head of the network the following day. She wanted to speak to them both. She owed it to them, and to herself.

She looked somber when she walked into the senior executive producer's office, and he smiled as he looked up.

“Don't look so depressed. The strike can't last forever. We'll settle it in a couple of weeks, and get back on track.” His view was more optimistic than what she'd been hearing around the show.

“I hope that's true,” she said, as she sat down. She didn't know where to start.

“By the way, I'm sorry about your loss.” It was the expression she hated most. It always seemed to be said by rote, and was such an easy way out. Like Season's Greetings. Or All The Best. All the best what? It wasn't just a loss, it was her mother's life. And her sister's eyes. Which was why she was sitting in his office. But it wasn't his fault. He was a nice man, and had been a decent boss. And she loved the show. It had been her baby for all this time. And now she had come to give it back. It was like giving up her child. Tears filled her eyes even before she spoke.

“Tammy, what's wrong? You look upset.”

“I am,” she said honestly, pulling a tissue out of her pocket and dabbing at her eyes. “I don't want to do what I'm about to do, but I have to.”

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do,” he said calmly. He could see what was coming, and he was trying to take some of the air out of the balloon, before it popped. But it already had.

“I came here to resign,” she said simply, with tears running down her cheeks.

“Don't you think that's a little extreme, Tammy?” he said gently. He dealt with crises every day, and he was good at handling them. As a rule, so was she. But more than anything, she knew that right now this wasn't where she belonged. She needed to go home. L.A. had been home to her since college, she loved her job and her house. But she loved her sisters more. “It's only a strike.”

“It's not about the strike.”

“Then what is it?” He spoke to her like a child. She was just another hysterical woman sitting in a chair on the other side of his desk, although he had enormous respect for her. A scene like this was totally atypical of her.

“My mother died in July, as you know. And my sister was blinded in the accident. My father is a mess. I just need to go home for a while and lend a hand.”

“Do you want a leave of absence, Tammy?” Normally, he couldn't have spared her, but he didn't want to lose her either. She was vital to the show.