Wandering Heart (9781101561362) (7 page)

Everyone at home depended on her. Without the checks she sent, they would be back to square one—living in a trailer park, her younger sisters and brother with no chance to go to college or do anything worthwhile with their lives.

She knew her mother sometimes squandered the money, never realizing it might not last forever. Still, Charlotte had given them a new place to live and a real chance at a brighter future. Maybe she hadn’t won any big awards yet, but that recognition would come. She was sure of it. She just had to keep at it and keep studying her craft.

Charlotte took a sip of tea and stared out at the sea. The fog had begun to melt away and the sky was brightening. It wouldn’t be long now. Someone would be up to get her any minute. She looked over the script pages for the scene they would shoot next on the beach, and placed herself in the head and heart of her character, Alexa. It was almost like meditating, but not quite. It was a matter of opening herself to a well deep within, where the power and authenticity of a performance came from. Some actors were so adept at “getting there,” their performances left her in awe. But she was getting there, too, and starting to live in Alexa’s skin. Sometime soon, even Bradley would have to notice, she thought with a grin.

A short time later, she heard a sharp knock on the door. “Charlotte? It’s Meredith. They want you in makeup. We’re going out soon.”

“Okay, I’ll be right down.” Charlotte grabbed the script and a few other essentials, ready to start her workday.

W
HEN
Judy Kramer told everyone to go down to the beach, Liza thought it looked like an army, breaking camp and marching on.
The movie crew swept out as fast as they had swept in, leaving coffee cups, tea mugs, water bottles, and drifts of scone crumbs in their wake. If this was a mere coffee break, what was serving a real meal going to be like?

Liza and Claire were back in the kitchen, trying to sort out the mess when Nick walked in. “Sorry to interrupt you. Is the kitchen off limits to guests?”

“Not at all,” Liza replied. As if it would ever be off limits to Nick Dempsey! Was he teasing her? she wondered.

“Can I get something for you?”

“You can tell me the secret to those scones. I’ve already eaten two and I’d have two more … but we actors have to watch our weight.”

“It’s one of Claire’s recipes,” Liza told him. She glanced over at Claire, who stood at the sink, rinsing dishes.

Claire gave Nick one of her serene smiles. “It’s a fairly simple recipe,” was all she said.

Liza noticed that Claire did not offer to give him the recipe. This wasn’t really a surprise. Claire was very protective of her recipes, even secretive about them.

“Really? I thought you must have brought them in from a special bakery.” Nick Dempsey stared at her, as if testing the truth of her claim.

“They were baked right in this kitchen, Mr. Dempsey. We don’t buy anything in a bakery.”

“That’s cool. I like to cook, too. And bake. In my spare time. It’s one of my hobbies. Have you seen my website?”

“I’m not a computer person,” Claire replied. Which Liza thought might be the understatement of the year. She wasn’t sure Claire had ever looked at a computer screen.

“Oh, you ought to visit it. You, too, Liza. I’d like to open a restaurant, maybe a whole chain.”

“That would be … impressive,” Claire said evenly.
If it ever actually happened,
Liza knew she meant.

Nick merely smiled and puffed out his chest a bit, oblivious to Claire’s meaning. “Well, thanks for the recipe, when you get a chance. You can e-mail it to me … or well, since you don’t have a computer, just give a copy to Jason, my assistant. I’m sure you’ll see him around.”

Claire looked as if she was about to answer—to tell him she didn’t give out recipes. But Nick didn’t wait for a reply. He smiled again and disappeared out the kitchen door.

Once he was gone Liza said, “Looks like you’ve won another fan, Claire. Maybe
you
should have a website.”

“Oh, that’s not my style, Liza. You know that. Besides, there would be nothing to put on it. You know that I rarely give out my recipes.”

Liza did know. She just wondered if the famous heartthrob Nick Dempsey would prove an exception to that rule.

C
HARLOTTE
walked down the long flight of stairs to the beach, following Nick and Brad. Brad wanted to speak to them about the scene before the first take. Charlotte took a few deep, calming breaths. She had her own ideas for the scene and didn’t want to argue with Bradley. She tried not to bite her lower lip, which was her bad habit. She didn’t want to ruin her makeup. It took a long time to get that natural look for the camera. Even her hair, which was naturally curly in humid weather, had been treated with salt spray and a blower to create loose, wind-tossed waves.

That step would prove futile. She could already feel her hair curling more tightly as she walked down the steps. Wisps of fog still
clung to the shoreline, and piles of dark clouds had settled on the wide horizon. The fog was not going to clear, after all. If anything, the weather was getting worse.

Down on the beach, Bradley trotted over to the camera crew. She heard them murmuring, strategizing the camera work for the scene. Bradley came over to the actors next.

“Nick and Charlotte, sorry for those last-minute changes in the script. But I feel the dialogue is stronger now. Did you guys get a chance to look it over?” The two actors nodded quickly. “Any questions?”

“I’m ready to go. How about you, Charlotte?” Nick asked her.

“I’m good,” Charlotte replied with a curt nod.

“Great. So, you’ll start off there, in front of the rocks. We’ll take a wide pan of you walking together down the shoreline. Then the camera will move in as you begin to argue. By the time you reach those big rocks, where Jerry is standing with the reflector, it should really be heating up. You stop and face each other. That’s where you’ll throw the ring,” Brad said to Nick. “The water is very shallow there. So you go right in, Charlotte. It won’t even be up to your ankles.”

It would definitely be over her ankles, and probably freezing, but Charlotte nodded stoically. This was her job. She was too well paid to refuse to jump around in ice-cold water.

“This is the turning point of the film,” Bradley went on. “Alexa has just found out that Tom has betrayed her. Everything that happens in the story comes back to this scene, this single conversation in their life together.” He paused and looked at them. “Are you ready?”

Charlotte quickly nodded again, trying not to shiver. The wind off the ocean had kicked up, blowing a cold mist. She wore only a yellow sundress and a thin white wrap.

A gust of wind blew down one of the light reflectors, and a flock of technicians rushed to fix it. “Oh, this is going well,” someone muttered.

Bradley wasn’t fazed. “I know it’s a little raw out here,” he said, “but believe me, it will be worth it. You can’t pay for weather like this. The way the clouds are gathering … it’s a perfect metaphor for the end of this relationship.”

Charlotte had to agree with that. Of course, Bradley wasn’t the one in the skimpy sundress, she noticed. He wore a thick fleece pullover, zipped up to his chin. He then retreated to his position behind the main camera.

Nick and Charlotte found their marks. “Are you okay? You look a little cold,” Nick said quietly.

“I’m okay. But thanks.” Charlotte shot him a quick smile, then went inward to focus on her character. She didn’t take to Nick when she first met him. He seemed shallow and vain. But she soon realized that was just a pose. Underneath, he was a sweet, caring guy. A real family man, too.

“Alexa and Tom, start walking,” Bradley said. The actors started down the beach, exchanging their dialogue as the waves swept in and out. The water and sand rushing at her feet was a little distracting, but Charlotte tried to work it all into her performance as her acting coach had taught her.

A camera and microphone on a special dolly that tracked through the sand followed on one side, and two handheld cameras were filming as well.

The argument between Alexa and Tom peaked at the big rocks, just as Bradley had directed. Nick’s character pulled off his wedding ring and screamed at Charlotte’s character.

“You want this? Here it is. Catch, Alexa. If you can find it, you
can keep it.” Nick angrily threw the ring into the ocean, right at Charlotte’s feet.

She was standing knee-deep in water by now, the bottom of her dress drenched and dragging, her wrap lost somewhere in a passing wave.

“Tom, no … please … Why did you do that?” She delivered her lines as she knelt in the water, grabbing at the ring. Which, of course, was nowhere to be seen. Just as Charlotte had reached the end of her dialogue and action, a large wave rushed in and knocked her over.

“Cut! Cut!” Bradley called out.

Two lifeguards, who were standing by for just such an emergency, rushed in to help her.

Nick was there first, pulling her up from the water with both hands. It wasn’t very deep, but her entire dress was drenched.

“Are you okay? Maybe we should tell him the water is too rough today for this scene. Don’t worry, I’ll back you up.”

The offer was tempting. But the last thing Charlotte wanted was to be branded a prima donna, calling off the production schedule and costing everyone money because she got splashed by a wave or two.

“I’m fine, honest. Let’s just keep going. I think we’ve almost got it.”

As Charlotte and Nick reached the dry sand again, Meredith rushed up with a huge towel and wrapped it around Charlotte’s shoulders.

Bradley was there in a heartbeat, too, full of concern. “Are you all right, Charlotte? That last wave really knocked you for a loop. I hope you’re okay,” he said solicitously.

“I’m fine, Brad. I just need to dry off a little.”

“What a trouper.” Brad patted her arm. “That wasn’t bad. For a
first take. Nick, I like what you’re doing with Tom. You’ve got that pent-up thing going. There’s real, understated intensity, like a bomb about to blow.”

Nick seemed quietly pleased with the praise but was not one to gloat, Charlotte knew.

She shivered as Bradley turned to her. She could just tell from his tight smile that she was not going to get the same grade as her classmate.

“Charlotte, I love what you’re doing with Alexa. We’re feeling her shock and sadness. But I think you need to go deeper. Alexa is crying … but her real pain, her deep pain and shock at losing this marriage … I’m sorry, but it’s not coming through to me. Can you play it some other way? With less anger at Tom, maybe? More shock and disbelief?”

Charlotte considered his suggestion. It wasn’t the way she saw her character reacting. But she decided not to argue. “Sure, I’ll try that way on the next take. No problem.”

“That’s all I ask. You’re a trouper. I know that.” He patted her shoulder amicably. “Sorry you’re getting all wet. But there are plenty of fluffy towels up at the inn. If we all focus, we’ll be back up there for lunch in no time.”

Bradley strolled off to talk to the camera technicians again, and Charlotte was surrounded by a swarm of makeup and wardrobe staff, who whisked her off to a small tent. She quickly changed into an identical but dry yellow sundress and white shawl.

She sat in a canvas folding chair with her script book open in her lap, trying to rework her interpretation of the scene into what Bradley seemed to want.

Many sets of hands worked on her simultaneously, repairing her makeup and hair. Meredith handed her a cup of hot tea. “Thanks,
pal. I needed that. Did you bring an electric kettle down here or something?”

The movie truck carried big generators so anything was possible.

“I called up to the inn and one of the ladies up there—Liza, I think—brought down a thermos for you.”

“That was sweet. I’ll have to thank her.”

Warmed and fortified, Charlotte went back out to the beach. She’d grabbed a big sweatshirt in the tent and planned to keep it wrapped around her shoulders until the absolute last possible moment. The wind was even stronger now, and whitecaps tumbled one after the other into the shoreline. The wind had whipped up the sea and the tide was coming in.

A few minutes later, the second take began rolling. Charlotte pushed herself to give Bradley what he asked for—showing what her character was experiencing through her tone of voice, her physical gestures, her expressions and reactions.

Acting wasn’t a costume and words on a page, her coach always told her. It was behavior. The transformation into another person from the inside out. Maybe she hadn’t done a good enough job of that on the first take. Charlotte was determined to get it right this time.

But they hadn’t even reached the moment when Nick threw the ring into the water before Bradley stopped them, yelling over the pounding waves. “Cut … Cut … That’s fine, folks. Let’s stop right there.”

Once again the crew rushed in with towels and sweatshirts for Nick and Charlotte. They weren’t nearly as wet this time, but Charlotte felt even more frustrated. It was not unusual to take several takes before a director was happy with a scene. But Bradley wasn’t even letting them get warmed up.

Of course, it was Charlotte’s performance he honed in on when he came to talk to them.

“Charlotte, we’re just not going in the right direction here. Alexa is desperate. Shocked. Heartbroken. I’m sorry, but I’m not seeing you build toward that. When Nick throws that ring, you have to be there emotionally, one hundred and ten percent.”

Charlotte thought she was there. If he would just let her play her part and stop talking, maybe she could show him how she interpreted this woman’s feelings.

Charlotte sighed and pulled the big towel tighter around her shoulders. “I was trying for something a little more understated, Brad. This is how I interpret Alexa. She holds a lot inside.”

He stared at her. “I’m sorry, I disagree. I think she’s a woman of strong emotions. I think she puts it all out there. She acts out and regrets it later. That’s why he’s leaving her. See?” When Charlotte didn’t answer immediately, he said, “Trust me on this, Charlotte. Please.”