Split Black /#Wattys 2021

Chapter Thirty

Only one thing traveled faster than bad news, and that was news that had anything to do with Hollywood. Old friends, close friends, friends he and Lizzie didn't really like very much, people from work, and people they hadn't seen in years called up if they lived at all close, and the house party to end all house parties cobbled together for that weekend. Lizzie picked up the wrong phone call when she got back from her audition, spoiling the surprise.

The local sci-fi movie fan club, since they could accurately be said to have had a hand in Lizzie's success, invited itself to join in, but since they offered to bring all the food, John wasn't going to argue. He remembered the taste of the spiced roast chicken he'd sampled at Gary's mother's, and that spaghetti hadn't smelled bad, either. The only bad thing was, they'd have to chase all the minors out at some point, or else they couldn't serve alcohol at all.

In all the excitement of the past few weeks, Lizzie still hadn't seen herself in the fan film that had gotten her the commercial audition. Gary had had a DVD made and offered to bring it over and play it at the party, since even though John's computer was ready to be picked up, the TV screen was so much bigger.

Saturday finally arrived and even before the party's start time of three p.m., the row house overflowed with geeks. Costumed geeks. John counted several Jedi, among them Lizzie's friends Cameron and Patty, a Tusken raider who carried her mask under one arm like the severed head in Sleepy Hollow, and an adorable young Darth Vader who stood maybe three feet tall. Tempting smells stirred the senses. Someone had brought a crock pot of tangy meatballs in barbeque sauce. There was home-fried chicken, cubes of cheese, crackers and spinach ranch dip, a lasagna, potato salad, a fruit tray, and someone made an incredible macaroni and cheese. Lizzie had to set up her card table to hold the plates of cookies and brownies. Gourmet cupcakes from the new specialty cupcake bakery down the street held court in the center of the table.

Friends poured in: squadmates of John's who had a couple of hours or the day off, Lizzie's boss at the modeling agency, and all the tall, lustrous young women Lizzie knew from work, who certainly beautified the crowd. The geeks stared, practically drooling in their macaroni. Music boomed in the background, and guys John knew from the squad or from patrol who had "just stopped by for a few minutes" lingered trying to chat up Lizzie's friends.

When everyone had dished up a plate, Gary announced that he would play the DVD in a few minutes. The skinny short guy in glasses who had written the screenplay stood up and began reading humorous recollections of the filming that had been submitted ahead of time by the cast and crew.

John found himself lingering in the doorway next to Gary, looking on as waves of laughter erupted from the costumed filmers in the living room. Gary looked around. "Where's Lizzie? She wanted to say a few words to thank everyone before you play the DVD."

Lizzie stuck her head out of the kitchen. "We're out of ice," she announced. "And Pepsi."

"Can't have that," said Gary. "7-11's right down the street, right? I'll go get some more. Won't take but a minute."

Gary had had to park two blocks away. John fished his keys out of his pocket and said, "Take my car. It'll save you a walk."

"Thanks." Gary took the keys and headed for the door, stepping over people seated on the floor. He went out and shut the door behind him.

An explosion pounded the house five minutes later like five hundred cannons going off outside. A window shattered; the whole house shook. The boy reading from notes in front of the TV staggered and fell down. Lizzie screamed and grabbed John's arm.