Deirdre stood next to each other, together but separate, watching the interchange with interest.
As always, Maddie wanted to step in and mediate, as she’d done when Kyra was a child, but Kyra was no longer a ten-year-old fighting with her younger brother. Or even the twenty-three-year-old who’d fallen in love with a movie star on her first feature film and come home pregnant and unemployed. Maddie held herself back. Ready, but back.
Kyra’s shoulders rose then fell as if she’d drawn in a breath and expelled it. Maddie hoped Kyra was counting to ten, or higher if necessary.
Maddie drew a breath, too, then slowly let it out and was relieved when Kyra said, “It looks like we both have to work on our time management skills.” Her tone turned less conciliatory. “I’m looking forward to talking with the network so that we can clarify who’s shooting what, when.”
Kyra unhooked Dustin from the harness, handed him to Maddie, then raised her camera to her shoulder. “In the meantime, maybe Max can tell us about his personal space. Assuming that hasn’t already happened.”
“No, we just shot his welcome.” The cameraman didn’t add that what he’d really wanted was their reaction, but then he didn’t have to.
“I love to see young people so intense about their work,” Max said with a wave of his cigar that drew all of their attention back to him. “I haven’t worked in years,” he said. “I finished out my comedy career playing lobbies full of retirees. And now I’ve got two cameras pointed my way.”He shook his head as if in wonder, then shot Dustin a wink. “If Millie were here, we could do one of our routines. It never was the same without her.”
“I bet you two were fabulous,” Kyra said, moving toward Max. “Will you show me some of the photos on the wall?”
“Of course,” Max said, opening his arms wide.
“If it’s okay with you, Max, I’m going to scope out the bathroom and make a few notes,” Avery said. “And I think Deirdre wants to get photos of the bedroom suite. It looks custom made.”
“I believe so.” The old man smiled. “Millie loved nice things. She had an interior designer friend who used to practically live here.”
Without further discussion, Kyra began to pan her camera across the photos while Madeline held her grandson close, trying her best to keep him out of camera range. Kyra’s camera froze mid-move. “Oh my gosh,” Kyra said. “Is that Frank Sinatra?” The camera panned to the next photo. “And Jackie Gleason?”
“Why, yes, of course,” Max said, somehow managing to play to both cameras. Deirdre stopped shooting photos of the furniture and came over to stand next to Madeline. They all strained forward to see.
“Millie and I made regular guest appearances on
The Honeymooners.
And we opened for Frank at the Fontainebleau a couple of times.” He beamed at them.
Madeline could hardly believe what she was seeing. There were photos of Sammy Davis Jr., Dean Martin, and Jerry Lewis standing next to an impossibly fresh-faced Max and a small blond woman, who had to be Millie. In another picture Max and Millie stood with Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, arms entwined, smiles lighting all four faces.
“Desi went to high school here on Miami Beach, though nobody was that wild about him. Lucy and Millie went to the same hairdresser,” Max explained. “And they played canasta occasionally.”
“So you actually knew all these celebrities?” Kyra asked as she continued to shoot.
“Of course,” Max said. “Miami Beach isn’t all that big. Back then it was even smaller in lots of ways.” He adjusted the belt of his smoking jacket and his smile slipped a bit. “We weren’t as big, but we were in the same business.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “There are old films of a lot of those years somewhere. If I can find my projector and screen, we can pop some popcorn and have a movie night.”
“We’re in,” Kyra and Maddie said while
As always, Maddie wanted to step in and mediate, as she’d done when Kyra was a child, but Kyra was no longer a ten-year-old fighting with her younger brother. Or even the twenty-three-year-old who’d fallen in love with a movie star on her first feature film and come home pregnant and unemployed. Maddie held herself back. Ready, but back.
Kyra’s shoulders rose then fell as if she’d drawn in a breath and expelled it. Maddie hoped Kyra was counting to ten, or higher if necessary.
Maddie drew a breath, too, then slowly let it out and was relieved when Kyra said, “It looks like we both have to work on our time management skills.” Her tone turned less conciliatory. “I’m looking forward to talking with the network so that we can clarify who’s shooting what, when.”
Kyra unhooked Dustin from the harness, handed him to Maddie, then raised her camera to her shoulder. “In the meantime, maybe Max can tell us about his personal space. Assuming that hasn’t already happened.”
“No, we just shot his welcome.” The cameraman didn’t add that what he’d really wanted was their reaction, but then he didn’t have to.
“I love to see young people so intense about their work,” Max said with a wave of his cigar that drew all of their attention back to him. “I haven’t worked in years,” he said. “I finished out my comedy career playing lobbies full of retirees. And now I’ve got two cameras pointed my way.”He shook his head as if in wonder, then shot Dustin a wink. “If Millie were here, we could do one of our routines. It never was the same without her.”
“I bet you two were fabulous,” Kyra said, moving toward Max. “Will you show me some of the photos on the wall?”
“Of course,” Max said, opening his arms wide.
“If it’s okay with you, Max, I’m going to scope out the bathroom and make a few notes,” Avery said. “And I think Deirdre wants to get photos of the bedroom suite. It looks custom made.”
“I believe so.” The old man smiled. “Millie loved nice things. She had an interior designer friend who used to practically live here.”
Without further discussion, Kyra began to pan her camera across the photos while Madeline held her grandson close, trying her best to keep him out of camera range. Kyra’s camera froze mid-move. “Oh my gosh,” Kyra said. “Is that Frank Sinatra?” The camera panned to the next photo. “And Jackie Gleason?”
“Why, yes, of course,” Max said, somehow managing to play to both cameras. Deirdre stopped shooting photos of the furniture and came over to stand next to Madeline. They all strained forward to see.
“Millie and I made regular guest appearances on
The Honeymooners.
And we opened for Frank at the Fontainebleau a couple of times.” He beamed at them.
Madeline could hardly believe what she was seeing. There were photos of Sammy Davis Jr., Dean Martin, and Jerry Lewis standing next to an impossibly fresh-faced Max and a small blond woman, who had to be Millie. In another picture Max and Millie stood with Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, arms entwined, smiles lighting all four faces.
“Desi went to high school here on Miami Beach, though nobody was that wild about him. Lucy and Millie went to the same hairdresser,” Max explained. “And they played canasta occasionally.”
“So you actually knew all these celebrities?” Kyra asked as she continued to shoot.
“Of course,” Max said. “Miami Beach isn’t all that big. Back then it was even smaller in lots of ways.” He adjusted the belt of his smoking jacket and his smile slipped a bit. “We weren’t as big, but we were in the same business.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “There are old films of a lot of those years somewhere. If I can find my projector and screen, we can pop some popcorn and have a movie night.”
“We’re in,” Kyra and Maddie said while
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