Expecting to Die

CHAPTER 28
P
escoli rounded the end of the sectional while the dogs milled around beneath
the counter, where the food still in the bags was probably getting cold. She took
a seat next to her daughter. “What do you mean ‘Lara’s in and you’re out’?”
“Just that.” Bianca flopped back on the couch. “Michelle called.”
“What did she say?”
“She talked to Barclay. Like earlier today. And he . . . he’s thinking about
‘taking the show in another direction. ’” Bianca made air quotes with her fingers.
“After filming just one episode?”
“I guess.”
Pescoli thought the show was already scripted, at least loosely, and this didn’t
make a lot of sense. “What other direction?”
“A direction that doesn’t include me. Or our family.” Bianca sunk lower on
the cushions, her lower lip protruding, disappointment emanating from her in
waves.
“Is he going to play up the feuding families angle?” Pescoli asked. Wasn’t
there something about that?
Sighing, Bianca plucked at a nonexistent piece of lint on the arm of the
sectional. “I guess. But it’s all because of Lara. She’s the last one who saw Big
Foot, and Barclay is all over that.”
“Thinks she saw one.”
“Doesn’t matter. And then that Big Foot Believer guy, Carlton Jeffe, got a
visual of a Big Foot on film with his drone . . . so it’s probably the same one that
chased Lara. She was already on the news talking about it. First at the hospital
and then at her home with her mom and dad there.” Cisco abandoned his
position under the counter and hopped up onto the couch. Bianca absently
stroked his rough coat.
“Okay, I see Lara’s got the media attention right now. But I thought they had
some kind of plot line sketched out.”
“They did. Do. But after the pilot, where I’m the one who is chased by Big
Foot, they’re going to focus on Lara, even make her live with one of the feuding
families or something. They’re going to cut something into what we’ve already
filmed, focus in on her at the campfire or whatever, so the viewers can connect
with her or something. That’s what Michelle said. Then they want her to recreate

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what happened to her, when she went back searching for her cell phone, like she
lost it during the party scene. They’ll make it fit in with the story and then follow
her story line.”
“And what happens to your character?”
Pushing a lock of wet hair from her face, she said, “Don’t know. Michelle said
she’d keep me posted.”
“Michelle still on the show?”
“Yeah. Remember: She’s the cop! She’s you.”
“I know, but if you’re out, I thought they might get rid of your mother as well,
come up with some other investigator, or something.”
“Well, they didn’t,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Michelle
and Barclay are tight.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She said she went to some seminar he gave a few years ago, or
something, and I think they’ve kept in touch ever since, though, I think she kept
it kind of a secret, didn’t want anyone to know.”
This was news. “She knew him before he showed up here?”
“I think.” Bianca nodded, her wet curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Well,
kinda.”
Huh, Pescoli thought, filing the information away. “Well, I wouldn’t worry
about it too much. If the reality show is in this much flux, if the episodes aren’t
set in stone, which seems to be the case, then just do your job, best as you can
and maybe things will change again.”
Bianca lifted a skeptical brow. “You’ve met Lara, right?” she said
sarcastically. “You know it’s impossible to compete with her. At least for male
attention. Just ask Maddie.”
Pescoli remembered that Maddie had been in love with TJ O’Hara, but he,
like most of the other boys around that age, was forever lusting after Lara. “So
you think Barclay Sphinx isn’t immune to her charms.”
“If you mean her boobs? Then no. It’s disgusting.” Scowling, she said, “I
don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Okay. I’ve got dinner. It might be getting cold, but burgers, fries, and a
spinach salad.” Bianca was forever trying different diets and every once in a
while she was off meat, professing to be a vegetarian. But not always, so when
Pescoli brought home takeout, she always hedged her bets.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to your face?” Bianca asked.
“Oh. Well, your mother got into a catfight.”
“For real?”
“Apparently Wilda Wyze doesn’t like how I’m treating her boys. You know,

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like they could be suspects.”
“So she fought you?” Bianca was both incredulous and somewhat impressed.
“Don’t you carry a gun?”
“I usually don’t need a sidearm to pick up takeout.”
“So you just let her claw you?”
“Well, that’s not really how it went down. She took offense to the fact that
we’ve been questioning her sons.”
“And she attacked you? Are you kidding me?”
“It was a . . . scuffle. She came at me, and I . . . convinced her to back off.”
“You mean, like a fight? You’re pregnant!”
“That is a fact. And Terri Tufts commented on it, too.” Without explaining
how physical the altercation actually became, she told Bianca about meeting the
three women in the foyer of Wild Wills, the accusations and the fight.
“Wow.” Bianca stared at the scratches on her mother’s face. “I know Kywin’s
mother is kind of angry all the time, he says so, but wow.” Bianca carefully
touched her mother’s face. “That’s intense.”
“I suppose I’ll live. Without plastic surgery.”
“Are you going to put her in jail?”
Pescoli shook her head. “I probably should, but nah. Wilda’s got enough
problems. Older kids who are borderline hoodlums, an ex who’s a regular in
prison, and two more girls she’s trying to raise. Even though I wouldn’t call her
Mother of the Year, Wilda’s trying and so, just because she’s a hothead with
talon-like nails, I’m going to give her a pass. This time. But if she comes at me
again, I won’t think twice about arresting her and putting her in jail.”
“Good.”
“But I’m okay.” That much was true as far as her face was concerned, but she
did feel a rolling pang in her mid-section, an increased pressure that gave her
pause. It had to be another Braxton Hicks contraction, right? Her due date was
still a few weeks off. Ignoring it, she said, “Do you know if those three are tight?
Wilda Wyze and Terri Tufts and Billie O’Hara?”
“You’d know better than me. I mean, they all were when we were growing up,
weren’t they? The boys were in soccer and Little League and basketball, all
kinds of sports, and on the same teams a lot of the time.”
“Terri made a comment about my pregnancy, and said something like, ‘It’s
going around these days,’” Pescoli revealed.
“Probably because Marjory is,” Bianca said, “You know, Emmett and
Preston’s stepmom? She’s not very far along. Doesn’t show or anything. But I
think Terri is pissed, anyway, Emmett said so.”
“She didn’t seem pissed.”

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“Then I don’t know, but it’s weird for everyone. Especially Emmett. He’s kind
of freaked out about it.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s going to have a baby brother or sister and he’s like me. Almost
grown.” She let her gaze drop to her mother’s abdomen. “I know you and
Santana are all into it, and you should be, but for me and Jer, it’s kind of... well,
upsetting in a way. We don’t like to think of you as . . .”
“Sexual?”
She made a face. “Yeah. And we know you and Santana. . . well, but did you
have to go and get pregnant when you’re, like, almost ready for retirement?”
“Retirement. Geez, Bianca, I’m not in the grave yet.” Another pain was
starting to swell inside her.
“Well, if it’s weird for me, it’s got to be super freaky for Emmett because he
was going with Marjory when she hooked up with his dad.”
“What?” Pescoli said, trying not to wince as the pain increased. “Emmett
dated Marjory? They were a couple?”
“Yeah, for like three or four months, and then she went for the dad or he went
for her. He was still married to Terri at the time. They got divorced and then
Richtor and Marjory got married and now she’s knocked up.”