The Chicken Sisters(111)
“Now, love,” he said, and Sabrina kicked him in the shin.
“Don’t ‘now, love’ me,” she said. “We can start this over, and we can do it right, because you all agreed to provide conflict, and conflict is Food Wars’ bread and butter. I don’t care what stupid shit you do on your own time. You can nail your two crappy chicken shacks together, for all I care. But this is not what the network wants, and it’s not what we’re giving them.”
Jay stepped forward, smiling as though he wanted nothing more than to meet a famous television personality having a tantrum worthy of a three-year-old. “Sabrina, so nice to meet you.” He extended his hand, and Sabrina took it as if she didn’t know why she was doing it. “I’m Jay Mallick, Mae’s husband. I thought you might be a little distraught that things aren’t working out as you’d planned, so I went ahead and took a look at the contracts the participants signed with the network before filming. You, of course, have the right to frame the footage you record into any narrative you wish. But there’s no requirement that anyone here will do anything specific in the way of continuing a conflict or not.”
Sabrina turned, furious, to her head cameraman. “Is this true? Do we need to double-check this?”
“It’s true, love,” purred Simon, although he took a step away from Sabrina’s stilettos as he spoke.
“Confirmed,” agreed Gordo, remaining safely behind the camera. “They do what they do, we get to film it, you get to cut it however you want. That’s the deal.”
“That’s the deal,” said Sabrina, sticking out her perfect bottom lip and tapping her shoe thoughtfully. “From their contracts. Which I had nothing to do with. And Simon? Doesn’t he have to vote? I thought he had to vote.”
“I’ll worry about me, love,” Simon said.
“Well, then.” Sabrina shook her head a little, curls bouncing, and turned back to Mae and Amanda, this time with that same old friendly smile, so perfectly brought off that Amanda nearly stepped backward in shock. “You took me by surprise, but that’s fine. We’ll make this work. No, we’ll make it great. Why don’t you all come up here together, in front of the chefs’ table.” She stepped back and had a look, then began arranging them as though into a family portrait, tucking Jay unobtrusively behind Mae and moving Andy between Mae and Amanda with a wink, moving Nancy over to Mae’s other side and bringing Barbara to stand next to Amanda, then flanking them all with Gus and Frankie.
“Wait,” she said, and turned to one of the many minions just offstage. “There were other kids, right? Get the other kids.” Amanda saw Mae glance quickly at Jay, and he shrugged as Jessa handed Ryder to him as Madison, released from behind the cameras, ran to her mother. Sabrina surveyed the girl critically, and Mae smoothed the hair that was so like hers and placed her daughter on her hip.
“Perfect,” said Sabrina. “If you’re going to do it this way, we’re going to make it look good. Just one minute.” She stepped away, took her bag off a table, and began the now-familiar routine of freshening her lips and makeup. Mae took a lipstick from her own pocket with her free hand and did the same, then passed it to Amanda, who hesitated.
“It’s just a tinted balm,” Mae said. “You can’t do it wrong.”
Amanda smeared it over her own lips, capped it, and then—why not?—handed it to Barbara, who took it even more reluctantly than her younger daughter had.
“Go ahead, Mom,” Mae urged.
Frankie took the balm, smiling. “Hold still, Grandma,” she said. “It will just look nice. Brighten you up a little.”
Barbara submitted, then turned back to Amanda, looking over at Sabrina. “She’s not ready yet?”
“No,” Amanda said. “She takes a while.”
“Hmm. Not a natural beauty, then.” Barbara smiled, and Amanda, a little tentative, smiled back, and, as their eyes met, laughed.
“Nope.” Amanda laughed, too. She felt warmer toward Sabrina than she had in days; she might be an asshole, but she was clearly surrounded by them as well. Better her than Amanda.
“Her and Mae,” said Barbara, shaking her head. “All this complication. Not like you and me.”
You and me. Amanda nodded, conscious of the cameras, wanting to hug her mother but not quite sure they were ready. She put out her hand instead, and Barbara took it. But her mother was still looking at Amanda as though she wanted to say something. “What?” Amanda rubbed her finger over her front teeth. “Did I get that stuff on me?”
“No,” said Barbara. “No, not that. It’s just—I was wondering if you wanted a puppy.”
“Oh—” Now Amanda did hug her mother. Hard, and probably smearing lip balm, or whatever, all over her shoulder. “Yes. Yes, I do want a puppy.”
Sabrina swirled back into their midst, pointing them back into their places, then went to stand between Simon and Cary. “Let’s turn this into good television, people.”
Sabrina held her practiced pause, bringing on that manufactured smile, but it was Mae who jumped in one last time, stepping out in front before Sabrina could even draw in a breath. With the faintest, fastest possible glance back at Amanda, Mae shot a wholly genuine grin at the camera and spoke. “And, we’re back.”