In retrospect, he probably should have let her see the set.
As the music started to playโthat charming little ditty Walter had paid far too much for and that she already hatedโElizabeth strode out on the stage. He took a short, sharp breath in. She was wearing a drab dress featuring small buttons that ran all the way down to the hem, a stark white multipocketed apron cinched tightly at the waist, and a Timex wristwatch that ticked so loudly, he swore he could hear it over the bandโs drumbeat. On her head sat a pair of goggles. Just over her left ear, a number-two pencil. In one hand she carried a notebook; in the other, three test tubes. She looked like a cross between a hotel maid and a bomb squad expert.
He watched as she waited for the song to finish, her eyes traveling around the set from one corner to another, lips pressed together, and shoulders tensed in a way that signaled dissatisfaction. As the last note played, she turned toward the cue card, scanned it, then turned away. Setting her notebook and test tubes on the counter, she walked to the sink, her back to the camera, and leaned into the fake window to take in the fake view.
โThis is revolting,โ she said directly into the microphone. The cameraman turned to look at Walter, his eyes wide.
โRemind her weโre live,โ Walter hissed at him.
LIVE!!!ย the cameramanโs assistant hastily scribbled on a large board, holding it up for her to see.
Elizabeth read the reminder, and then holding up one finger as if to signal that this would only take another second, continued her self-guided tour, stopping to take in the kitchenโs carefully curated wall artโ a Bless This House needlepoint, a depressed Jesus kneeling in prayer, an amateur painting of ships sailing on a seaโbefore moving on to crowded countertops, her brows arching in dismay at a sewing basket riddled with safety pins, a Mason jar filled with unwanted buttons, a ball of brown yarn, a chipped candy dish filled with peppermints, and a bread box across whichย Our Daily Breadย was scrawled in religious script.
Just yesterday, Walter had given the set designer an A+ for his taste. โI especially love the knickknacks,โ heโd told him. โTheyโre just right.โ But today, next to her, they looked like junk. He watched as she paced to the other side of the counter, visibly blanching at the sight of hen and rooster salt and pepper shakers, hostilely eyeing the toasterโs knitted pink cozy, recoiling from a strange little ball made entirely of rubber bands. To the left of the ball was a cookie jar molded to look like a fat German woman making pretzels. She stopped abruptly, looking above her head at the large clock hanging on wires, its hands permanently fixed in the six oโclock position.ย SUPPER AT SIXย was printed across its face in glittery type.
โWalter,โ Elizabeth said, shielding her eyes as she looked out past the bright lights. โWalter, a word, please.โ
โCommercial, commercial!โ Walter hissed to the cameraman as she started to pick her way off the set down to where he was sitting. โDo it now!ย Now!โ
โElizabeth,โ he said, launching himself out of his chair toward her. โYou canโt do this! Get back up there! Weโre live!โ
โWe are? Well, we canโt be. The set doesnโt work.โ
โEverything works, the stove, the sink, itโs all been tested, now get back up there,โ he said, shooing her back with his hands.
โI meant it doesnโt work forย me.โ
โLook,โ he said. โYouโre nervous. Thatโs why weโre taping without a live audience todayโto give you a chance to settle in. But youโre stillย onโ
as inย on the airโand you have a job to do. This is our pilot; things can be tweaked later.โ
โSo, youโre saying changesย areย possible,โ she said, putting her hands back on her hips as she surveyed the set again. โWeโll need to make a lot of changes.โ
โOkay, wait, no,โ he said, worried. โTo be clear, set changes are not possible. What you see represents weeks of solid research by our set designer. This kitchen is exactly what todayโs woman wants.โ
โWell Iโm a woman, and I donโt want this.โ
โI didnโt mean you,โ Walter said. โI meant the average Jane.โ โAverage.โ
โYou know what I mean. The normal housewife.โ She made a sound like a whale spouting.
โOkay,โ Walter said in a lower voice, his hand waving fruitlessly at his side. โOkay, okay, look, I understand, but remember, this isnโt justย ourย show, Elizabeth, itโs also the stationโs show, and since they pay us, itโs usually considered good form to do what they ask. You know how this works; youโve had a job before.โ
โBut ultimately,โ she argued, โitโs the audience for whom we all work.โ โRight,โ he pleaded. โSort of. No waitโnot really. Itโs our job to give
people what they want even if they donโt know they want it. I explained this: itโs the afternoon programming model. Half dead, now awake,ย you know!โ
โAnother ad?โ the cameraman whispered.
โUnnecessary,โ she said quickly. โSorry everyone. Iโm ready now.โ
โWeย areย on the same page, arenโt we?โ Walter called as she made her way back onstage.
โYes,โ Elizabeth said. โYou want me to speak to theย averageย Jane. The
normalย housewife.โ
He didnโt like the way she said it. โIn fiveโโ the cameraman said.ย โElizabeth,โย he warned.
โFourโโ
โItโs all written out for you.โ
โThreeโโ
โJust read the cue cards.โ
โTwoโโ
โPlease,โย he begged.ย โItโs a great script!โ
โOneโฆand action!โ
โ
โHello,โ Elizabeth said directly into the camera. โMy name is Elizabeth Zott and this isย Supper at Six.โ
โSo far so good,โ Walter whispered to himself.ย SMILE,ย he mimed at her, pulling at the corners of his mouth.
โAnd welcome to my kitchen,โ she said sternly as a disappointed Jesus peered over her left shoulder. โToday weโre going to have so muchโโ
She stopped when she got to the word โfun.โ
An uncomfortable silence followed. The cameraman turned to look at Walter. โGo to commercial again?โ he motioned.
โNO,โ Walter mouthed. โNO! GODDAMMIT. SHE HAS TO DO
THIS! GODDAMMIT ELIZABETH,โ he continued soundlessly as he waved his hands.
But Elizabeth seemed to be in a trance and nothingโnot Walter waving his hands, or the cameraman preparing for commercial, or the makeup person mopping her own face with the sponge reserved for Elizabethโsโ could break her spell. What wasย wrongย with her?
โMUSIC,โ Walter finally mouthed to the soundman.ย โMUSIC.โ
But before the music could start, Elizabethโs ticking watch caught her attention and she came back to life. โIโm sorry,โ she said. โNow, where were we?โ She glanced at the cue cards, paused a moment more, and then suddenly pointed at the large clock above her head. โBefore I get started, Iโd like to advise you to please ignore the clock. It doesnโt work.โ
From the producerโs chair, Walter let out a short, sharp exhale.
โI take cooking seriously,โ Elizabeth continued, completely ignoring the cue cards, โand I know you do, too.โ Then she pushed the sewing basket off the countertop and into an open drawer. โI also know,โ she said, looking directly into the few households that had accidentally tuned her in that day, โthat your time is precious. Well, so is mine. So letโs make a pact, you and I
โโ
โMom,โ a little boy called in a bored way from the TV room in Van Nuys, California, โthereโsย nothingย on.โ
โShut it off, then,โ the little boyโs mother yelled from the kitchen. โIโm busy! Play outsideโโ
โMmoommโฆMmoommโฆ,โย the little boy called again.
โOh, for heavenโsย sake,ย Petey,โ a harried woman said coming into the room, her wet hands holding a half-peeled potato, the baby crying in the high chair in the kitchen, โdo I have to do everything for you?โ But as she reached to turn Elizabeth off, Elizabeth spoke to her.
โIt is my experience that far too many people do not appreciate the work and sacrifice that goes into being a wife, a mother, a woman. Well, I am not one of them. At the end of our thirty minutes together, weย willย have done something worth doing. Weย willย have created something that will not go unnoticed. Weย willย have made supper. And itย willย matter.โ
โWhatโs this?โ Peteyโs mother said. โDunno,โ said Petey.
โNow, letโs get started,โ Elizabeth said.
โ
Later, in her dressing room, Rosa, the hairdresser and makeup woman, stopped by to say goodbye. โFor the record, I liked the hair pencil.โ
โFor the record?โ
โLebensmalโs been screaming at Walter for the last twenty minutes.โ โBecause of a pencil?โ
โBecause you didnโt follow the script.โ
โWell, yes. But only because the cue cards were unreadable.โ
โOh,โ Rosa said, visibly relieved. โThat was it? The type wasnโt big enough?โ
โNo, no,โ Elizabeth said. โI meant the cards were misleading.โ
โElizabeth,โย Walter said, appearing at her dressing room door, his face red.
โAnyway,โ she whispered, โgoodbye forever.โ She gave Elizabethโs arm a little squeeze.
โHello, Walter,โ Elizabeth said. โI was just making up a list of a few things weโll need to change right away.โ
โDonโt hello me,โ he shot back. โWhat the hell is wrong with you?โ
โWhy thereโs nothing wrong with me. I actually thought it went rather well. I admit I stumbled at the beginning, but only because I was in shock. It wonโt happen again, not after we fix the set.โ
He stomped across the room and threw himself into a chair. โElizabeth,โ he said. โThis is aย job.ย You have two duties: to smile and read cue cards. Thatโs it. You donโt get to have an opinion about the set or the cards.โ
โI think I do.โ โNo!โ
โAnyway, I couldnโt read the cards.โ
โNonsense,โ he said. โWe practiced different type sizes, remember? So Iย knowย you can read the damn cards. Jesus, Elizabeth, Lebensmalโs ready to cancel the whole thing. Do you realize youโve put both of our jobs in jeopardy?โ
โIโm sorry. Iโll go speak with him right now.โ โOh no,โ Walter said quickly. โNot you.โ
โWhy?โ she said. โI want to clarify a few things, especially about the set. And as for the cue cardsโagain, Iโm sorry, Walter. I didnโt mean Iย couldnโtย read them; I meant my conscience wouldnโtย letย me read them. Because they were awful. Who wrote the script?โ
He pursed his lips. โI did.โ
โOh,โ she said, startled. โBut those words. They didnโt sound like me at all.โ
โYes,โ he said through gritted teeth. โThat wasย intentional.โ
She looked surprised. โI thought you told me to beย me.โ
โNotย thatย you,โ he said. โNot the โthis is going to be really, really complicatedโ you. Not the โfar too many people do not appreciate the work and sacrifice that goes into being a wife, a mother, a womanโ you. No one wants to hear that stuff, Elizabeth. You have to be positive, happy, upbeat!โ
โBut thatโs not me.โ
โBut it could be you.โ
Elizabeth reviewed her life to date. โNot a chance.โ
โCould weย notย argue about this,โ Walter said, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. โIโm the afternoon programming expert and Iโve already explained how this all works.โ
โAnd Iโm the woman,โ she snapped, โspeaking to an all-woman audience.โ
A secretary appeared in the doorway. โMr. Pine,โ she said. โWeโre getting calls about the show. Iโm not sure what to do.โ
โJesus mother of god,โ he said. โComplaints already.โ
โItโs about the shopping list. Some confusion about tomorrowโs ingredients. Specifically, CH3COOH.โ
โAcetic acid,โ Elizabeth supplied. โVinegarโitโs four percent acetic acid. Iโm sorryโ I probably should have written the list in laymanโs terms.โ
โYouย think?โ Walter said.
โThanks much,โ the secretary said, disappearing.
โWhereโd the shopping list idea come from anyway?โ he demanded. โWe never discussed a shopping listโespecially not one written in chemical form.โ
โI know,โ she said, โit came to me as I was about to walk out on set. I think itโs a good idea, donโt you?โ
Walter sank his head into his hands. Itย wasย a good idea; he just wasnโt willing to admit it. โYou canโt do this,โ he said in a muffled voice. โYou canโt do whatever the hell you want.โ
โIโm not doing whatever the hell I want,โ Elizabeth nipped. โIf I was doing whatever the hell I wanted, Iโd be in a research lab. Look,โ she said. โIf Iโm not mistaken, youโre experiencing a rise in corticosterone levelsโ
what you call the Afternoon Depression Zone. You should probably eat something.โ
โDo not,โ he said stiffly, โlectureย meย on the Afternoon Depression Zone.โ
For the next few minutes, the two of them sat in the dressing room, one looking at the floor, the other looking at the wall. Not a word passed between them.
โMr. Pine?โ A different secretary poked her head in. โMr. Lebensmal has a flight to catch, but he wanted me to remind you that youโve got the rest of the week to fix โit.โ Iโm sorryโ I donโt know what โitโ is. Says you better make โitโ โโshe consulted her notes againโโ โs*xy.โ โ Then she turned pink. โAlso, thereโs this.โ She handed him a hand-scrawled note Lebensmal had dashed off.ย And what about the fucking cocktail?
โThanks,โ Walter said. โSorry,โ she said.
โMr. Pine,โ the first secretary said, appearing as the other was leaving. โItโs lateโ I need to go home. But the phonesโฆโ
โGo on, Paula,โ he said. โIโll handle it.โ โCan I help?โ Elizabeth asked.
โYouโve helped plenty enough today,โ Walter said. โSo, when I say, โNo thank you,โ I actually meanย no thank you.โ
Then he went out to the secretaryโs desk, Elizabeth trailing behind, and picked up a phone. โKCTV,โ he said wearily. โYeah. Sorry. Itโs vinegar.โ
โVinegar,โ Elizabeth said into another line. โVinegar.โ
โVinegar.โ โVinegar.โ โVinegar.โ
โ
Heโd never gotten a single call on the clown show.