Stitched Together: The Fairchilds, #1

By B Morgenroth

A secret is going to change Izzy Sloane's life forever.

 

Independent and self-reliant, after college Izzy finds work in television. When the show is canceled, a bridge to Izzy's next job may be as an assistant to a once-famous film star. After meeting Robin Mitchell in the Catskills, it all seems perfect.

Until Robin's grandson arrives. Mackie believes Izzy is using Robin to further her career and wants her gone. While he's the most handsome man she's ever seen, Mackie's also the most intractable.

Izzy adores Robin and feels more at home with her than she ever did with her own family, the conflicts with Mackie are as sharp as the growing attraction between them.

After a festive Thanksgiving, a startling revelation shakes the foundations of everything she has known. Izzy wonders if this is where she belongs or is she destined to be an emotional nomad forever.   

• Language: English
• Publisher: DashingBooks
• Release date: May 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201774301

Book preview

one

This is bad news but not unexpected. The show is being canceled. The producer stood in the middle of the room, uncomfortably shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

There was resounding silence in the read-through room where the harsh light made everyone look like ghouls, with blue-white skin with dark circles under their eyes. No one had been sleeping well for the last weeks but they hadn’t been to make-up either, so it was understandable why they could have passed for extras in Zombies of Central Park.

We can try to look at it philosophically. Everything has to end eventually.

Even daytime dramas that have been on for fifty years, Alden Wright said sourly. Fresh out of drama school, he had been on the show from the beginning. Besides some off-off-Broadway plays, this had been his only job. Hired as a young leading man, he had become what was termed a tent-pole character. Alden was the patriarch, the beloved grandfather, who doled out good advice and read The Night Before Christmas to the grandkids for the yearly very special holiday episode.

We’ve lost our audience, Evie Pastore commented sadly. And I mean lost in that they’ve died.

Let’s be morbid!

No, that’s true. The audience and the world have changed. No one wants to sit in front of the television all afternoon.

We used to finance the entire evening line-up!

We’re too expensive. Talk shows cost less.

Don’t try to tell me that Brie Blackstone doesn’t get millions a year. You know she does!

Freshly unemployed actors began arguing across the table.

How many sets does Chatterbox have? One. How many do we have? Twenty-seven in storage!

Apples and oranges! Kenneth Brock roared.

Some people were holding back tears; others didn’t have that much control, which was why they had been nominated for Emmys over the years.

Are you okay? Quella Ramos asked

Izzy nodded. I’m not a long-timer so I guess this hasn’t been my life the way it had been for the… she thought for a moment, perennial favorites she replied using the term from the entertainment magazines.

Quella was a long-timer on the show, having started as the walk-on maid with no lines thirty years ago. Then she became an under five and her line was often one word, Mrs. said in a more profound Spanish accent than she normally had. Soon the audience was responding to the character and the producers gave her a family and her own unsolvable life issues to stew about. You would have been.

I would have been a contender?

Quella smiled. Although this was the first time she had lost a job, one could not work in the industry without having friends lose theirs with unfortunate regularity. She had saved her money and invested wisely so was far less shaken by this turn of events than some of the others.

Izzy was taking it well so far but that was probably because she was in clinical shock. According to the medical consultant on the show, it was rare to cry while in that state. As she surveyed the room and saw so many of her castmates reaching for tissues, Izzy wondered why she was in shock and they were all crying just fine.

It’s good to cry, she said. Isn’t it?

One should express their true feelings whatever they are.

Izzy wondered what her true feelings were concerning Life to Its Fullest. Reflecting on her interior emotional status then realized unlike everyone else, she wasn’t experiencing the oversized emotions they were.

Internalize the situation, her college dramatic instructor would have said. Feel it. Be it.

It all seemed like a waste of energy. The show was canceled. Everyone on the crew had been talking about it for the last six weeks. It wasn’t a surprise. The network’s ratings were plummeting with people streaming content on their handheld devices. Daytime serials were dinosaurs returning to the tar pits. In fifty thousand years, someone would find the bones and display them in a museum.

Did her fellow actors not understand the gravity of the situation when they had gone through three directors and four head writers since Izzy had been hired to play perky Paisley McBride just two years ago?

I suppose I’m more reality-based, she said aloud but not intentionally.

What do you mean?

Izzy turned to Quella, stunned she had spoken the words held close to her chest for the last twenty months. Maybe I’m not supposed to be an actor.

You’re wonderful as Paisley!

Am I? Oh. I mean, thank you.

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Two weeks later

There’s no production anywhere in North America that needs an actress?

Izzy was sitting at a small table at Stage Right, the famous show biz deli in Manhattan’s theater district. Across from her was Diana Kemmer, her talent agent, who never saw an eye shadow she could resist. She could apply eye makeup more skillfully than any five viewtube influencers and always looked like the most glamorous woman in any room.

Did anyone need to be the most dramatic woman in any room? Izzy rarely wore makeup outside the studio. Her makeup bag contained brown eyeshadow, brown eyeliner, and brown mascara. They passed their use-by date before she reached the bottom of the container.

I’ve spoken to all the casting directors. You’re not, let’s say, an interesting commodity.

Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? I’m a commodity?

Of course. All entertainers are.

None of the shows had anything? None of the streaming services?

There are lots of projects but you’re not a good fit for any of them.

Why not?

Because you’re soapy.

I’m soapy? Izzy struggled to understand this entire conversation.

"Is this a surprise? You’ve been on Life for two years. You’re a soap opera actor."

I’m an actor.

Diana shrugged.

What did that mean?

What?

The shoulders. I’m not an actor?

You’re very pretty and everyone says you’re easy to work with. But you’re no Ethel Barrymore.

Izzy stared at her. If you’re implying that I don’t have any skills as an actor, let me remind you that we’re not performing Shakespeare every day. The writing is melodramatic.

This is an award-winning show. Maggie and Bob have been in the business for twenty years. They’re good at it. Maybe you’re pointing the finger of blame in the wrong direction.

That’s not the kind of thing a friend would say.

I’m not your friend I’m your agent.

Izzy nodded. That’s the kind of thing an agent would say.

Yes.

Izzy placed her thin paper napkin on the plate and stood. Here’s something a client would say. You’re fired. As she walked through the Stage Right Deli, there was applause from the actors who frequented the restaurant and overheard every word.

When she reached the street, it was beginning to rain. It was cold and the fat droplets were taking the shape of pellets. She stepped to the curb and raised her hand trying to hail a cab. They all whizzed past until Izzy decided to take the shoe leather express, being unable to face either a subway or a bus.

By the time she reached her small apartment on a side street on the Upper West Side, Izzy was wet, cold, and miserable. She was also furious with Diana, the network, as well as Maggie and Bob the award-winning head writers who couldn’t tell a good enough story to keep the audience coming back for more.

She hung up her coat on the wooden wall rack with her unused umbrella next to it. Where were you when I needed you?

It didn’t answer.

The mini-umbrella she carried in her bag had turned inside out during the hurricane in August. She only remembered to replace it when she was in bed and about to fall asleep.

Living frugally, Izzy had saved as much of her paycheck as possible, but between paying Diana fifteen percent, the apartment rent at over $3000 a month, and the high cost of living in the city not much was left over. It was not as though she could retire on what she had saved, so it was necessary to get another job.

Every year thousands of performers flocked to New York, and Los Angeles, looking for their big break. They wound up waiting tables, taking bit parts in lousy movies and commercials if they were lucky.

The young woman who played Paisley’s best friend on Life shared an apartment with three other women.

Izzy did a quick calculation. She could afford six months without working but that was assuming everything went in her favor. That seemed unlikely. The city was a mess with the economy the way it was. L.A. didn’t seem to offer greater opportunities and she had no familiarity with Hollywood.

Not only was she out of work, she had just fired her agent. Sure, it felt fantastic and was so satisfying but getting representation hadn’t been easy three years ago and would be worse.

Izzy hadn’t made a mark on the show. She had been promised a terrific storyline in which her character would be featured, but when the actor who was supposed to play the love interest signed to do a film in Vancouver, the producers of Life lost interest in the perky Paisley McBride and they relegated her to family birthdays, shopping on Black Fridays with the McBride relatives and generally getting herself into scrapes that required someone else bailing her out.

I won’t miss you, Paisley, Izzy said. Oh great, now I’m talking to myself. I hate it when characters on soaps talk to themselves and here I am doing it. What other stupid Paisley tricks will I do?

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They were all still going to the studio because the show was still airing. The faces told the story, no one was happy. No one was smiling. Eyes were red from crying in the dressing rooms and then being exposed to the bright lights on set.

In the corridor, people talked about looking for work. There was little in New York. Some wondered about Toronto, others about North Carolina. It was a huge change in everyone’s life and everyone was going out on interviews.

Izzy went to a commercial audition. Twenty-five women were waiting to read lines that were beauty-pageant gorgeous. After two hours of hearing actors practicing When time is at a premium, potatoes can make the meal, Izzy turned to the woman next to her. Who wants to eat dehydrated potato casserole? Yes, it’s quick and yes, it’s filling, but is it any good?

It tastes like wet cardboard but I need the work, the woman replied.

Standing, Izzy shook her head. I can’t do this.

Can I take your place in the queue?

Izzy handed her the number she was holding. You certainly may. Best of luck to you.

On the street, the wind had picked up and was carrying dirt into the air. Feeling as though she was being sandblasted by every vile substance conceivable, Izzy entered a little antiques and collectibles shop, Savoir Flare. The bell jangled on the door as she opened it.

A middle-aged woman looked up. Do you need any help?

Izzy glanced around the store, shelves filled with unique items, old jars, hand-painted lampshades, teacups, glasses, and mirrors. The store was a veritable hall of mirrors in all sizes, frames, and shapes.

You’re very intuitive if you can sense I need help.

The woman studied her for a long moment. You look like you were hit by a bus but I don’t see any tire tracks.

Izzy laughed. That’s just this week. I collect the kind of things that defy reason. Even I don’t understand it.

Have a look around and see if you can find anything you can’t explain.

Thank you.

For the next half hour, Izzy looked at everything on display and touched most of it. Not knowing why she settled on an old photograph of Coney Island Amusement park.

That’s a good choice, the woman commented as she wrapped it well against the weather. Are you from New York?

I am now, Izzy replied.

We are a city of vagabonds. People from all over the world call it home.

That seemed to be true.

The woman handed her the photo.

I love old amusement parks, she said.

You should go to the Coney Island Museum. It’s wonderful. There are many old artifacts, posters and a documentary.

I didn’t know there was such a place. I’ll have to make the trip out there. Thank you. Izzy walked back onto the street.

A museum dedicated to an amusement park sounded like the perfect way to spend a day. Once the weather cleared, Izzy promised herself to take the subway to Brooklyn and see everything.

A stop at the Chinese take-out on the avenue provided dinner and she studied her lines for the following day. By this point, she was wishing the show had been canceled and ended immediately. Going to the studio was like attending a wake every day. Her castmates were so devastated it was as though they had been through a tornado and lost everything.

Izzy was an ingénue compared to most of them at Life to Its Fullest, but even in her short life, she knew how unpredictable the present was and the future was absolutely baffling. But she always landed on her feet or stumbled briefly until she got her balance. This time would be no different.

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The writers had endeavored to wrap up storylines but not too well because there were rumors a production company in Brazil might buy it. There was a flicker of hope at that but few believed it entirely. The issue of how a cast that generally did not speak Portuguese or even Spanish could continue on the show shot in Rio de Janeiro was ignored.

Izzy began to wish that Paisley McBride would simply take a midnight train to Georgia, so she didn’t have to hang around this mausoleum until the last shooting day. And the cast party would involve tearful hugs and promises of lunches and support. Such things would never materialize because this cast made no effort at friendship before the cancellation and wouldn’t after.

The scene being taped on the floor was one Eleanor D'Alesandro couldn’t get through without bursting into tears and then rendering a gulping explanation of how much this show and all the people meant to her.

She’s a liar, of course, Quella commented standing next to Izzy. She’s hated everyone for years.

Why?

She’s mean and has a sour personality.

She did win an Emmy, isn’t that right?

Several. That’s because she wrote her own dialog.

Izzy turned to Quella in surprise. Really?

No. That’s what she told the interviewer on the network’s morning show. They believed it. The truth is that when she wasn’t on the set, she was shopping on Fifth Avenue. She didn’t have time to write her name on a birthday card for Larry as I recall.

You’re funny.

I’m a realist.

They watched Eleanor turn three more tissues into a soggy mess. The tension in the director’s voice made it clear he was losing his patience with her.

We’ll be here all night at this rate.

She’ll quit soon. She would never miss a meal. Speaking of meals, how about going out to lunch with me? We could go to Fidelio.

You don’t have to ask me twice. I love it there!

I remember, Quella replied and moved away into the shadows of the studio.

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The restaurant on a side street was decorated in shades of fresh olives and lemons. Even on rainy days, it was bright and cheery, a welcome sanctuary from the studio where nothing was bright or cheery in the two years Izzy had been there. Melvin Belvin, the executive producer, everyone agreed, was a lunatic. No one expected courtesy since he was still working his way up to political correctness. He seemed to have a mind that was on a washing machine spin cycle permanently and whatever he was thinking came out like water in the drain cycle. There was no filter.

Izzy did her best to avoid him but Liane Pougy, the long-running star of the show, actively sought him out to engage in screaming matches that rocked the studio. At first, like any rational person, she took it seriously. After a few months, she realized no one in the building took their battlefield conflicts with anything but amusement, so Izzy began to be entertained as well. Still, it was difficult to concentrate on the job at hand with all the noise.

The cute Italian waiter brought menus and freshly baked breadsticks then departed.

I suppose this is the last time we’ll have lunch together, Izzy said resting the menu on the table.

We can have a going-away lunch before I leave for Miami.

You’re definitely going home?

I’ve been in New York longer than I thought. I tried to keep one foot there and one foot here for years. It’s time to be with friends and family.

Izzy sighed. You have friends here, don’t you?

Of course I do and that’s what I want to discuss with you.

I’m curious now.

I keep in contact with an old friend who was on the show when I first arrived. She’s been asked to write a book and she wanted to know if I knew anyone who would like to be her assistant through the process.

I don’t know anything about writing a book.

Neither does she.

Who is it or must I say yes in order to find out?

Not at all. It’s Robin Mitchell.

Robin Mitchell? The Robin Mitchell?

Yes.

"Robin Mitchell was on Life to Its Fullest?"

Yes. Is that such a surprise?

It sure is. I didn’t think a serious actor was ever on the show.

Quella made a face at her. Lots of people. Maybe not for an extended run, but when someone arrives in New York trying to do Broadway, they sometimes get a part on a daytime serial. Or did when there was still production in the city.

Things have changed, haven’t they?

Everything does. But let’s talk about Robin. She’s a dear. You’ll love her.

"I’ve seen several of her movies. Distant Fires. She was brilliant in that."

Did you see me in it?

No!

Robin got me a part as the neighbor lady. We had fun on that shoot. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. Most of my scenes were cut.

Acting seems to be a very disappointing business, Izzy replied.

"It can be. That’s why she quit years ago. She was getting older. It’s hard