Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(12)

5


Saturday



Cable guy was young. Midtwenties probably. Short, spiky brown hair, squat in stature. Seemed nice. “Twelve Petunia Lane? Install for Banks?” He passed Holly a business card from Primm Cable.

“That’s me.” Holly swung open the front door. “Thanks for coming out on a Saturday.”

She led him down the hall toward the kitchen, which overlooked the family room, where Struggle stood where Struggle always stood—beside Ella. Struggle was so focused on the My Little Pony horse Ella was playing with she didn’t notice the strange man in their house. Some watchdog. Should’ve gotten a German shepherd.

Holly told the cable guy, “That’s a new TV, and if I don’t get the Hub network, I can’t get My Little Pony, and if I can’t get My Little Pony . . .” She tipped her head toward Ella.

“I have a loose tooth,” Ella told him, wiggling the one on her bottom right.

“Cool.” He gave Ella a thumbs-up. Tossed a treat from his pocket toward Struggle. To Holly, he said, “You know the Hub network is owned by Hasbro.” The expression on his face was one of grave concern. “The toy company. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Um. No? No, I didn’t know that.” Holly scratched at a spot behind her ear. “What’s wrong with Hasbro?” There’s so much to keep track of when you’re a mom. BPA-free containers, safety recalls, deer ticks. “Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “Toys made in China. Melamine! Is that it? No? Hmm . . .” She snapped her fingers again. “Trade deficits!”

“You’re funny.” He set his cable bag down, strapped on his tool belt. “Cable is moving away from creator-driven entertainment and toward company-owned networks.”

“Oh, dear Lord, no.” Holly covered her mouth with both hands, feigned concern, then fessed up. “Sorry.” She winced. “I went to film school, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is Hasbro a front for organized crime or something? Because all I want in this world right now is to sit my daughter in front of the TV so I can unpack. School starts Tuesday. I need the TV—I don’t have a babysitter. The only person I know in Primm is Penelope Pratt, and I doubt she babysits.”

“My name’s Caleb.” He shook Holly’s hand. “Now you know two people. But I don’t babysit, sorry. Where’d you go to film school?”

“Northwestern.”

“American Film Institute.” He shrugged. “But I had to drop out because I ran out of money. What have you done?”

“Beg your pardon?” Holly knew where this was going. He wanted to know if she’d produced anything he’d seen. Well, guess what: she hadn’t. Ella was the only meaningful thing she’d done with her life. “Oh, I. Um. Actually, I . . . ,” Holly stuttered, wishing she knew how to answer his question.

“The Wilhelm Klaus Three-Minute Film Festival is coming to Primm in October.” He pointed a pair of pliers at her. “You should go. Winner gets ten thousand dollars. Do you submit your work to festivals?”

“Me? Um. No. Not lately.” She walked to the couch to pull one of Ella’s pink T-shirts from a pile of laundry to fold it. “I’ve been meaning to, but . . .”

“Oh. But you should still go.” Caleb twisted something into something. “You can watch. They always need people to watch.”

Before she could respond, Jack ran down the stairs, clearing the steps in rapid succession. Thump, thump, thump. “Holly. Ready to start?” He tapped his watch, noticing Caleb reaching behind the TV. “Oh, hey. How’s the cable coming? Any ponies yet?” He checked his watch again. All this watch checking. “Doesn’t it start in a few minutes?”

“No ponies, Daddy,” Ella whined. “No Fluttershy, no Rainbow Dash, no—”

“Nothing yet, Jack.” Holly tossed the folded T-shirt onto the pile. “We’re working on it.”

It was Saturday, and Jack was working. Lately, Jack worked every day. When he couldn’t, he’d get absolutely antsy and want whatever it was that was keeping him from work to hurry up and go away. He had moved to Primm to start work in a new office with Bethanny a month before Holly and Ella arrived. Holly knew what was going to happen: he’d unload a few more boxes, then skip off to work again, and Holly’d have to face the daunting task of finishing the entire unpack by herself. She loved her husband. She also knew her husband.

“No Applejack, no Pinkie Pie . . .” Ella counted on her fingers.

“Ella, honey, shhh. We’re almost done.” Holly touched Ella’s sweet cheeks. “She’s exhausted,” Holly explained to Caleb, immediately wondering why she cared what the cable guy thought.

“Holly?” Jack tapped his watch again. “Boxes. Garage. Can we get started? I’m meeting Bethanny at the office in two hours.”

Bethanny. Holly was so sick of hearing that name. “Go ahead and get started,” she told Jack, feeling agitated all of a sudden by the thought of his advancing his career while she moved further and further from the person she once was. Wilhelm Klaus Three-Minute Film Festival? Apparently, it was something she should watch.

Holly folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t looking at Jack, so she wasn’t surprised when he asked, “What’s the matter with you?”