Sex and Death: The Movie: A Lucy Ripken Mystery (The Lucy Ripken Mysteries Book 6) by J.J. Henderson

Author:J.J. Henderson [Henderson, J.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-01-25T05:00:00+00:00

After a lunch break, they gathered to make a plan. “Hey, we’re on a roll, and its already written,” Manny said. “Let’s do this today.”

“Carole?” Paul said. She gave him a look, and shrugged.

“Whatever. Sure.”

“OK, people,” Paul said to the gathered cast and crew. “We’re going to the apartment location. We’re shooting a newly-added scene. You know the one with Conrad and Delia in her apartment? The people I need, you know who you are. The rest of you are done for the day. It’s Friday so see you next week. I’ll post next week’s shooting schedule on the website by Sunday afternoon.”

Fifteen years back Paul and Angwine, his first wife, had homesteaded a one-bedroom apartment in a burned-out, junkie-filled building on 8th Street between Avenues C and D. Now the block had gotten respectable, with kids playing , laundry swaying, and potted plants with geraniums brightening up the fire escapes. The building had twenty-four apartments, all occupied. Paul’s was on the third floor.

This served as Carole’s home in the movie. Conrad’s been staying with her part of the time since his wife died, because their house in Queens seemed so empty without her. Because he needs his daughter now, with his wife dead.

Delia is in the shower, murmuring to herself a Beatles song her mother used to sing to her when she was a baby. “Baby you can drive my car, yes I’m gonna be a star, baby you can drive my car, and maybe I’ll love you. Beep beep mm beep beep yeah,” Delia sang, then turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed a towel as she heard the door in the other room. “Dad. Conrad…Dad, that you?” she called out.

“Hey Sweetpea, yes it’s me. I got your coffee and…”

“Hey Dad,” she said. “Do you remember when mom used to sing me that Beatles song?”

“Drive My Car? Yes,” he said. He paused in the doorway to the bedroom. She stood opposite him, in the doorway between bedroom and bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her long blonde hair wet and falling down round her shoulders. Her unmade bed, clothes strewn across it, occupied the space between them. “I loved that song. That whole album—what was it, Revolver, or Rubber Soul? Both of them were amazing records.”

Her voice tremulous and sweet, she sang, “I told that girl I could start right away, she said listen babe, I got somethin’ to say, I got no car and it’s breakin’ my heart, but I found a driver, and that’s a start…”

They stared at each other across the room. Conrad’s eyes filled with tears. “I miss your mother, Delia. Even though she did what she did, I miss her every day.”

“I know, Dad…Conrad.” They moved simultaneously to the middle of the room, and hugged at the foot of the bed.

Paul shot this from behind Delia. The towel falls away from her body as they hug. The last image is Conrad’s hand on her bare back. Her barely audible voice saying, “Dad, what are you…Daddy, don’t…”

“Cut,” Paul said, and nothing else.

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