I'm Glad My Mom Died(11)



“Barbara Cameron, Net! Barbara Freaking Cameron!”

“Yay!”

“Do you know who that is?”

“No.”

“She’s the mother of several famous kids. Several. Kirk Cameron from Growing Pains, Candace Cameron from Full House. She’s their mom. And she managed them. So then she started managing kids who weren’t her own. And now she’s one of the biggest youth reps out there. Really cool lady.”

Mom calls Barbara immediately to set up an audition for me and my oldest brother Marcus, who she recently convinced to give acting a try despite his initial resistance.

“C’mon, you’ve got a great smile, such big teeth,” she said. “And lots of moles. Young Matt Damon.”

I secretly envy Dustin and Scottie. I don’t understand why Mom has different expectations of them than she does of Marcus and me. I wish I knew the answer to this, but it feels like one of those things that you just don’t talk about as a family. It feels like one of those things that are just silently agreed upon.

Barbara works from home. The audition takes place at her house. When we arrive, Marcus and I are each given monologues that we have a half hour to work on before coming back and performing them. I don’t know what movies the monologues are from, but Marcus is playing a high school sophomore whose girlfriend committed suicide and I’m playing a little girl who’s trying to convince her parents not to get a divorce.

Mom runs the monologues with us in the car, and then we go back inside one-by-one to do our auditions.

Marcus goes first. He’s in there for about a half hour. When he comes out, he’s in a good mood. He says Barbara and the other woman in the room were both talkative and laughed a lot.

I walk inside. I’m shaking. I do my monologue once. Barbara and the other woman exchange a look, then ask me to do it again, but just “throw it away.” I’m puzzled.

“Be more casual,” Barbara clarifies.

I try it again. The other woman shrugs at Barbara. Barbara makes an “eh” face.

“Thank you,” they say simultaneously.

I walk out as slowly as I can, hoping I can add an extra few minutes to my exit, since I know Mom will be disappointed if I was only in there for as short as I was. Even with my best slow-walk, I only add on a minute. I get to the car and Mom looks concerned.

“Well?”

“It went okay.”

“Were they talkative?”

“Not really…”

“Did they laugh at things you said?”

“Not really…”

“Huh.”

On the drive home, I can tell Mom’s disappointed. She seems proud and excited about Marcus, but I know how to read her, and I can tell she’s forcing it. That pride and excitement in Marcus is overshadowed by her disappointment in me.



* * *



“We like Marcus a lot; we want to take him on as a client. But Jennette—she just… lacks charisma.”

The person delivering the news is Laura, the woman who was in the room with Barbara. Laura is Barbara’s second-in-command and the only other agent working for the company. She’s sharp and quick, a no-nonsense type, with a voice loud enough that I can hear it through the phone as Mom talks to her while stirring our ramen dinner.

“That’s great about Marcus, but what if you just sign Jennette and if she hasn’t booked anything in six months, you can drop her?” Mom pleads, then gives me a thumbs-up like she’s pumped about her own idea.

“We already have a lot of young female talent….” Laura trails off.

“She’s a quick learner and she takes direction well,” Mom says in a singsongy way, like she’s trying to tempt Laura. It’s such a mismatched tone for a beggar.

Laura says she’s going to check with Barbara and call right back with an answer. Mom turns to me.

“Net, say a quick prayer for Barbara to accept you. And fold your arms for the both of us, since I need mine to stir,” she says. I take on proper Mormon prayer form. We both shut our eyes.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” I start. “Thank you for this beautiful day and for all of our many blessings—”

“Shit!” Mom says.

My eyes fly open. Mom drops the spoon she was stirring with and starts sucking on her finger. She turns on the faucet to run the cool water over it.

“Burnt my finger,” she says to me, explaining. “Go on, sweetie, keep going.”

I nod and return to my prayer.

“Please bless that Barbara Cameron accepts me. Please bless that we have a good rest of the night. Please bless that Mommy sleeps well since she struggles with that sometimes. Thank you, Heavenly Father. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

“Amen, sweetheart. Good job.”

Mom starts pouring the ramen into bowls when the phone rings again. She drops the pot into the sink. It makes a loud thud and some ramen broth splatters onto the counter, but Mom doesn’t notice. She’s too focused.

“Uh-huh,” she says, sounding upbeat. I can’t hear Laura on the other end of the phone this time because Mom is pacing back and forth to cope with how antsy she is.

“Uh-huh,” she says again, eyeing me. This whole thing is making me very uncomfortable.

“Great, you won’t regret this,” Mom says as she hangs up the phone. She looks at me for a long time as pure joy fills her eyes.

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