Secrets of a Soap Opera Diva (20 page)

“Wow, that’s good. Have you ever considered writing? We could use you.”

The fan bashfully smiled saying, “No. I’m just a receptionist and catch the stories on my lunch break.”

During my tenure on
R&R
, I rarely watched the air shows, reason being it drove me crazy seeing boom shots, entire walls reverberating when a door shut, or worse, Emmy Abernathy’s eyes frantically reading off cue cards. Since I’d sped off the WBC lot for the last time, especially since Phillip and Emmy threatened to leave the show if I returned,
R&R
had a Season Pass on my TiVo. I had become obsessed with knowing what Edith and Randall planned to do with my character.

“Wow, wouldn’t that be something if Ruby was still out there,” I said. “Well, it was nice meeting you . . .”

“Now Ruby, they
did
find traces of your DNA on a track from your weave off the coast of them Seychelles Islands where you and Dove went on your honeymoon.”

I grimaced. That asinine excuse for a plot point had been Felicia’s vicious way of still punishing me.

“Listen,” I began, “I’d love to talk to you some more . . . what did you say your name was?”

“Etta. Etta Jean Paisley,” she proudly said, extending her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Etta,” I replied, taking it.

“The pleasure’s been all mine. Wait till I tell my sisters an’ ’em that I met Ruby Stargazer in the supermarket.”

“You do that, Etta. So long,” I said, waving as I slowly walked backward, building distance.

“Wait, Ruby!” Etta vroomed forward toward the Chiquita display. “Before you go, could you do me a big favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Would you sign a few autographs for me?”

“Uh, sure, but I don’t have anything to write with.”

“That’s okay; here you go.” Etta Jean whipped out a pen, handing it up to me along with a grocery pad that had been resting beside coupons in the basket attached to her cart.

“Who should I make this out to?”

“First one’s to Apollinaire,” she instructed. “She’s my oldest sister who lives out in St. Louis, never misses an episode. Oh, and can you add ‘Your sister Etta Jean is amazing’?”

To Apollinaire,

Thanks for watching
The Rich and the Ruthless
. . . Etta Jean is amazing!

Blessings,

Calysta Jeffries

“Here you go. Who’s next?”

“Oh . . .” Etta paused, scrunching her face in disappointment.

“Is something wrong?”

“I was just wondering . . .”

“Wondering what?”

“Could you sign them as Ruby Stargazer?”

No matter what else I did in my career, Ruby Stargazer would always be more famous than Calysta Jeffries or any other role I played.

Always grateful to a fan, I rewrote the autograph to Etta’s sister Apollinaire in St. Louis, and one to Lovey in El Dorado, Arkansas, to her specifications. Then Etta called her mother, Metra, holding her cell phone to my ear so I could say hello while finishing the final autograph to Etta herself, all signed, “Ruby Stargazer.”

Making my way up to the checkout counter, I looked over to the magazine rack out of habit at the tabloids. The usual suspects were front-page news. Just a little farther down on the rack I got a kick out of counting how many “Is Ruby Stargazer Returning from the Dead?” headlines I could find on the cover of the soap rags.

If I had a nickel for every
Cliffhanger Weekly
and
Soap Suds Digest
cover that had my face plastered on it since I’d been fired from
R&R
I’d be Bill Gates rich. The same magazine editors who repeatedly told the soap’s publicist and Weezi for fifteen years, “Brown just doesn’t sell our mags,” were now capitalizing on my popularity and the massive outcry for my return.

The soap rags also irresponsibly sent panic across American checkout counters, posturing me “in negotiations” for an imminent return, just so fans would continue to tune in and buy their sudser tabloids. And I knew
R&R
paid them handsomely to keep stoking that fire.

There I was again, airbrushed to perfection on the glossy cover of the latest issue of
Soap Suds Digest.
The caption read: “Mega-Shocker News: Will Ruby Stargazer Return from Her Watery Grave?”

My eyes scanned over to
Cliffhanger Weekly
. The headline read: “Breaking News: Is Calysta Jeffries Being Recast?”

My heart picked up a few beats.

“How are you today, ma’am?” asked the cashier.

“Fine,” I replied, hoping I was doing an adequate job of masking the anxiety attack I was experiencing.

Attempting to calm my nerves, I threw the copy of
Cliffhanger Weekly
facedown onto the conveyor belt along with my packages of blueberries and pomegranate seeds.

“Paper or plastic?” the bag boy asked.

“Ah, paper, please.”

As the cashier handed me my receipt, the sexy young bag boy, resembling hip-hop sensation Mario, flirtatiously asked me, “Do you need a carryout?”

Since I never looked my age, it wasn’t uncustomary for younger men to make passes. I wanted to say,
Sweetie you can carry me anywhere you want to
, but behaved
.

“Love one.”

After a few minutes of searching, I retrieved my Jag keys from my 2007 D&G jacket. Times were tight and I shopped my closet like a Filene’s Basement closeout sale. Naturally it was in excellent condition.

I tipped the scrumptious bag boy a fiver after he shut the trunk. “Thank you, ma’am.” He beamed. “My grandma loves
The Rich and the Ruthless.
”

I instantly wanted my money back; the thrill was gone.

I climbed into my sports car with the rolled
Cliffhanger Weekly
in my fist, anxious to find out about the potential recast of my signature role. Couldn’t believe Edith and Randall would be stupid enough to go there.
R&R
’s
online viewers had cyber-tarred and feathered Yancy St. Martin, the
So You Wanna Be a Supermodel
winner who’d replaced me during Ruby’s honeymoon death scenes.

Before I could flip open to the magazine’s first page, I was interrupted by Eldar’s “Nature Boy” ringtone.

“Hello?”

“Calysta, where in the hell are you?” my ex-husband Dwayne Jeffries aggressively shouted into my ear.

“Who do you think you are asking me where I am? Last time I checked I hadn’t been your wife in over six years.”

“Did you forget Ivy has a major lacrosse game tonight? It starts in thirty minutes.”

“No, I didn’t forget. But did you forget I’m the one who juggles a real job and pays the tuition while you’re out juggling two or three video hoes a week? You show up for one of Ivy’s events on time and come off as a hero. Pathetic.”

“The fact of the matter is, our daughter’s in her first playoff game and her mother is nowhere to be found,” he replied smugly.

Dwayne met me when Ivy was just five years old. I had appeared on his low-rated daytime talk show to promote
The Rich and the Ruthless.

At first I thought he was charming, the sex was mezza mezz, and he had nice teeth. It turned out he was arrogant, argumentative, a freak in bed, and the teeth were veneers. However, he and Ivy had formed an undeniable bond. We married and Dwayne became a paternal figure in her life, even after we split up.

“You know what, get off my back. Tell Ivy I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Pressing the End button and putting my key in the ignition, I knew I’d have to read about the Ruby Stargazer recast later if I was going to make it to Santa Monica in time to catch at least some of my daughter’s game.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the Pacific Coast Highway. As I sped along, my thoughts kept drifting to the magazine sitting next to me. I wanted to tear it open so bad and read about the recast.

Come on, Calysta, get real, this is only a soap tabloid, it’s not
Rolling Stone.
How many times has the magazine touted my return to daytime in the last six months, turning out to be totally false? I don’t know why people bother picking up these stupid rags.

It was probably all just a silly rumor created on one of those anonymous soap blogs
.

Something up ahead was stalling traffic. Probably another mudslide or a wreck.

No matter how long I lived in Southern California, it never ceased to amaze me how traffic could crawl to a complete stop over roadkill, road rage, or rubbernecking.

Frustrated, I grabbed the mag and quickly thumbed through it.

WBC President of Daytime Television Edith Norman and Randall Roberts, Co-Executive Producer of
The Rich and the Ruthless,
are reportedly moving ahead with plans to bring back the wildly popular heroine Ruby Stargazer in time for February Sweeps, in honor of Black History Month and the WBC’s new diversity rollout led by Josephine Mansoor, hiring more young African Americans due to a firestorm of ongoing criticism. There has been no official word as to whether or not the sudser has approached Calysta Jeffries to reprise the role, but according to respected soap reporter Mitch Morelli the character of Ruby Stargazer is likely to be recast.

I reached for my BlackBerry and auto-dialed Shannen, putting the phone on speaker, not noticing that traffic had begun moving again. The driver of the SUV behind me honked, startling me.

“Dammit,” I spat, accidentally dropping the rag.

“Hello, Calysta?”

“Hey,” I replied, straining to sound cheerful while reaching between my legs.

“Something wrong?”

“Nah, just calling to catch up,” I replied, forcing nonchalance. “What’s the latest on the soapvine? Anyone else been let go?”

“Yeah, they fired poor Willie Turner again, and rumor has it the Pattern Cutter could be next,” she squealed. “But that said, things are worse than ever. Alison got her way as usual. Randall hired another hairstylist and Felicia stopped writing scenes for Wolfe and me and brought in a twenty-two-year-old Latin hunk to pair me with named Javier de L’Vasquez, who was a breakout star on the Mexican telenovela
Mi Amor, Mi Odio.
”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“He’s playing the new Pepe.”

“Oh. Well, if nothing else, the soap’s consistent,” I replied. “Always open season for recasting the minorities.”

“Yeah well, Roger’s pissed.”

“Roger? Thought you guys were separated?”

“We were but he threatened to commit suicide. Anyway, sharing scenes with Wolfe was one thing, because Roger didn’t see him as a threat, but the moment he caught a bedroom scene of Javier and me online he went bat-shit crazy. Javier is Mark Consuelos–Mario Lopez
gorgeous,
by the way.”

“Yeah, but you coulda done all right stayin’ in that storyline with Wolfe. He’s still rated the sexiest and most popular actor in daytime. Don’t forget how that silver fox heroically carried you up two flights of stairs out of a burning building like it was nothin’ last year when you were knocked unconscious by that psycho Rory Lovekin, connecting a two-by-four to your skull like she was Jose Canseco on steroids.”

“I know, who could forget? And that was the problem,” Shannen firmly stated. “Alison got her prickly panties in a bunch the moment I had chemistry with Wolfe and we definitely had plenty of that. She knows the only thing that keeps her on the air is their super-couple status fueling her popularity.”

“And don’t forget she married that undie-snatcher Randall Roberts,” I said acidly. “Girl, I don’t know how you’re still doing it. I am
so
much happier now that I’m away from all that poison,” I lied.

I was itching to ask Shannen about the Ruby Stargazer recast rumors but didn’t want it to seem as if that was the only reason I had called.

“It’s
much
worse since Mr. Barringer recently had a turn for the worse,” Shannen reported.

“What!”

“Auggie Jr. is still Co-Executive Producer, but he’s basically never at
the set. He’s letting that ignoramus Randall do whatever he wants. Oh and you’ll never believe, Veronica Barringer’s been hanging around the set lately. How weird is that? Calysta, are you there?”

“Uhh, yeah,” I replied, half paying attention. I was in disbelief that I hadn’t been informed of how ill Augustus actually was.

“You haven’t asked about the recast.”

I was relieved she’d brought it up so I didn’t have to seem desperate.

“What recast?” I pretended not to know.

“Hate to tell you, Calysta, but there’s serious talk of replacing you and Ethan is first in line making recommendations.”

“Figures . . . Shannen?”

“I’m still here. When you left, you told me you never wanted to know if they decided to recast, and here I am bringing it up. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve changed my mind. Tell me everything,” I said as I reached into my handbag for my stash of Xanax, quickly retrieving a couple of pills, swallowing them dry.

“All right.” She sighed. “The word on the set is yes, they are secretly
testing
actresses to play Ruby Stargazer this week, and they’re going for a big name.”

“Like who?”

“I have no idea. Edith and the
R&R
brass are being really tight-lipped.”

My exit off the 10 freeway was still a good twenty minutes away from the Westside Waldorf School. I was feeling calmer, but my head began to swim as I haphazardly straddled two lanes, almost sideswiping an Escalade, causing the Filipino driver to flip me the bird.

Sorry,
I mouthed to the driver.

“Calysta, you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, drivin’,” I slurred. “Shan, you’re such a good friend, I-gotta-go-better-get-off-the-phone-don’t-wanna-get-a-ticket.”

“Okay, please call me later,” a worried Shannen said as she hung up.

I threw the phone into the passenger seat and blasted the music.

A big-name actress . . . those bastards.

I darted into the carpool lane and floored it.

I gotta get to Ivy’s game.

Crossing four lanes in seconds, I headed up the off-ramp. The traffic light changed to red just as I skated under it, narrowly missing an oncoming cement truck. I looked back to see the driver shaking his fist and no doubt yelling obscenities. By the time I looked forward a school bus full of children had stopped in front of me.