“I think it was cool that the author only wrote dialogue for one of her characters. Like, there are two characters, but only one of them is speaking. The other one doesn’t say anything at all, but you sort of know what she’s saying just from what she does, physically. Like when she reaches out to rub Savannah’s back. You know she’s being kind.”
Savannah stifled a scream—Trigg had just told everyone the play was hers! She tried to sink farther into her seat, but her butt slipped off the front of her chair and she nearly landed on the floor.
Mrs. Thornbird put up her hand. “Let’s please leave names out of our discussion, Ms. Kline.”
“Sorry, Mrs. T. I meant to say Ellie.”
Savannah put her forehead on the desk. When was this torture going to end?
“Anyway.” Apparently, Trigg wasn’t done yet. “I think the play says a lot, even with only one character talking. Especially because it’s such a mysterious topic. I mean, I know lots of people would like to see their dead loved ones in dreams, but like, Savannah’s mom actually came to her. And Savannah captures that in the play. I’m super jealous of her talent.”
There was no choice now. Savannah had no choice but to curl up and die, right there at her desk. She hadn’t even lifted her head, and already she could feel a whole classroom of faces turning to look at her.
“Is that true,” the girl in front of her whispered. “Do you see your mom’s ghost?”
No, Savannah moaned and rolled her head from side to side. No, no, no.
She’d written a play. A stupid, fictional play—about a grandmother, no less. Not a mother. What was Trigg thinking? Savannah had told her about her mom once, in confidence, in the middle of the night during a sleepover. But now, thanks to her best friend’s big mouth, Savannah was about to become the social punching bag of the entire school.
Parker White leaned over and wailed like a dying teenager in a slasher film. “Help me! I see dead people!”
Savannah kept her head on her desk. “You’re an asshole, Parker.”
None of these idiots understood—what it was like to lose your mom, to have to live with your grandmother because there wasn’t a single other person in your entire family left to take care of you. The closest any of her stupid classmates came to losing a parent was divorce—but even then, they still got to see their mom and dad. Savannah’s mom was dead. Gone. Never coming back. And she’d never even known her father. For all practical purposes, she was an orphan. A pitiful orphan who missed her mother so much she conjured her up in her sleep.
Maybe Thomas hadn’t been so wrong about wanting to find their biodad, after all.
Five
Thomas
“A fully produced, commercially sponsored, episodic search for your biodad. The whole package.” The following afternoon, Thomas sat clustered with Savannah and Maggie at the kitchen table while Sam Tamblin’s voice echoed through the speakerphone.
“More and more, podcast audiences are clamoring for a good mystery. Not only that, they want an active role in solving it. Listeners want to dig their fingers in, find clues, debate conclusions. Do you know how many hours the average podcast überfan will spend on a discussion thread? It’s crazy. You don’t even want to know. Point is, give the audience a regular dose of cliff-hanger crack and those superfans will step in and do half your work.”
Savannah reached over and pressed Mute. “Are we sure this guy’s for real?”
Sam Tamblin carried on, unaware. “We’re thinking, start out with the cast of characters. Introduce the could-be daddies. Give the audience just enough info to believe any one of these men could be the needle in your genetic haystack. We spend a few episodes exploring each father’s potential, only to inevitably uncover the one irrefutable piece of evidence that forces him off the list. By the end, we have maybe two or three viable candidates left and BAM! We hit the world with a DNA-slash-final episode superreveal.”
The three of them stared at the phone in disbelief.
“Just so we’re clear,” Savannah said to everyone but Sam, who was still muted, “I don’t want to do that.”
“Of course not,” said Thomas. “But let’s get a contract first.” He unmuted the line. “Hey, Sam, sounds interesting. Tell us more.”
Savannah hit the Mute button again. “Don’t tell him that! He’ll think we like the idea.”
“I know. I’m just humoring him.”
“Don’t.”
“Well, you’re not saying anything at all.”
“Yeah, but at least I’m not saying anything wrong.”
Thomas heard Sam Tamblin now going on about the evolution of criminal versus familial DNA. He unmuted the line.
“Hey, Sam,” Thomas interrupted. “Let’s discuss all that. But before I forget, I’d like to have a role in engineering the audio for whatever we do. We have a fair bit of equipment from our Dinner Salon podcast and I’d like to build it out into a full studio setup.”
He smirked at Savannah. Let her argue that was the wrong thing to say.
“Oh, uh, cool. Excellent,” said Sam. “We’ll have to test the sound, all that. But if it checks out, we’ll run with on-site recording. Save some money on studio rental.”
Thomas smiled, and a flush of pride ran up his neck.
Savannah muted the line again. “If you get to engineer, I want to produce.”
“All right,” said Thomas. “Tell him that.”
“He’s going to say no.”
“No, he won’t. Just tell him.” Thomas unmuted the line. “Sam?” Then mouthed tell him at Savannah.
She scowled but took a run at it. “How do you determine who gets to produce? Is that just one person, or more than one—”
Thomas gave her a good grief look and pointed at the phone, urging her to try again—this time for-real asking instead of hinting.
As for Sam, he met Savannah’s questions with silence. Nothing. They waited for him to respond, until finally, Maggie spoke up. “Has Savannah’s question taken you by surprise, Mr. Tamblin?”
“I don’t know what she’s asking.”
Thomas felt a small surge of I told you so but kept it to himself.
“I’m sure you’re aware of my granddaughter’s career ambitions and skill.”
Another moment of silence, and Sam said, “Savannah, I can let you write some of the scripts.”
Savannah’s mouth fell open, but no words came. After a pause, she hit the Mute button again. “Seriously? He said yes to Thomas’s requests without a second thought.”