Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries Boxed Set by Lois Winston

Author:Lois Winston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lois Winston
Published: 2015-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

TWO

I laughed until tears streamed down my cheeks and I couldn’t catch my breath.

“What’s so funny?” asked Mama. She scowl-stared at me as if trying to determine whether I was making fun of her or had gone completely non compos mentis.

“You are.” I swiped at my face and broke into another chortleathon. I had little enough to laugh about these days, and besides, sometimes a girl just has to bow to the absurd and let it all hang out. “Come on, Mama. Be serious. Me on TV? Not unless You Heard It Here First is a reality show for middle-aged, pear-shaped, financially strapped single parents.”

“I am being serious,” she said, hands planted on her hips. “Lou thinks it’s a marvelous idea. Just what the show needs, he said.”

That sobered me up. I tossed the chicken casserole in the oven and turned to her. “Forgetting that I have absolutely no acting experience, what’s what the show needs?”

“Fresh blood.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. “So You Heard It Here First is a daytime Buffy rip-off? And Vince and Monica are the resident vampires?”

“I don’t know about anyone named Buffy,” said Mama. “The stars are Vince Alto and Monica Rivers. I told you that already. And they’re certainly not vampires.”

“And now I’m one of the stars?”

“Well, you and some of the others.”

“What others?”

“The other people from the magazine, of course.”

“Of course.” Silly me. The sound of boiling water drew my attention back to the stove. I dumped the dry macaroni into the pot, gave it a stir, and lowered the flame. Then I turned my attention back to my mother. “Let’s start from the beginning, shall we, Mama?”

“I don’t know why this is so difficult for you to grasp, dear. Lou wants to revamp his show. Ratings are down. I suggested he think about switching from the sordid gossipfest he’s got now to one of those makeover shows that are so popular.”

I glanced at my body. As much as I could use a makeover, I wasn’t about to engage in one on national television. Even I wasn’t that hard up for money. Well, actually I was, but I still maintained some principles, and making a public laughingstock of myself wasn’t even at the bottom of my list of ways to earn extra cash to pay the bills. Queer Eye for the Frumpy Middle-Aged Widow? “No way. I’m not going to be a guinea pig for a group of fairy godfathers.”

Mama’s scowl-stare returned, her perfectly arched eyebrows knitting together over the bridge of her nose. “What on earth are you talking about? I never said anything about anyone using you as a guinea pig.”

“Then what?”

“You’re not getting a makeover, dear; you’re giving them. You and the rest of the staff at American Woman.”

American Woman was a second-rate monthly magazine sold on the racks at supermarket check-out lines. In my glamorously titled but poorly paid position, I created the various craft projects featured in each issue. “I’m the magazine’s crafts editor,” I reminded her.

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