Stop looking at that screen and listen up!
I looked up from the computer screen. Annabelle looked down at me from behind the computer.
What, Missy? I asked her.
I was talking to Stella just now, and you are in troble.
I am? What did I do? I asked.
She told me that while I am scene studying –
Napping? I asked.
No, I am scene studying.
Admit it, Annabelle, I laughed. From ten a.m. to four p.m. you’re napping in your office.
I’m a serious actress. I am scene studying.
OK, if you say so.
I did say so . . . and if anyone says otherwise, they are lying. Especially Thatch.
I kept quiet. Thatch was the one who told me she goes into her office in the linen closet and lies on the copier and sleeps.
So, Missy, you were talking to Stella?
Yes, I was. And she told me that while I am scene studying, she’s been lying in your lap.
I laughed. She does! And she’s so cute.
Well, this has to stop. Only I can lie in your lap –
Now wait a minute, Missy! Thatch also lies in my lap occasionally. I like it when you babies want to cuddle a bit.
Not any more! That lap is mine. I’m the boss.
Oh, God, Annabelle, I moaned. You sound like Donald Trump.
I don’t likethis situation, so- She was interrupted by the telephone ringing.
Hold on, Missy Belle; let me answer the phone. Hello?
Mr. Moore? It’s R.U. Fémos. How are you?
I am fine, thanks. I saw one of your clients pick up a Tony Award last week. Congratulations!
Why, thank you. Yes, it was an exciting night. He laughed. Of course it was probably more exciting for my client.
I’m sure, I answered him. I did enjoy the broadcast.
I’m calling because I’ve had an offer for Annabelle to do another commercial, if she’s interested.
A commercial?
Tell him yes! Annabelle cried as she danced around the telephone sitting on the computer table. Tell him yes!
CAn you hear her? I asked.
R.U. Fémos laughed. I think the whole world heard her. It’s Kitty Treats, the same company as before. Their advertising manager loves Annabelle. I’m sure it’s the very same deal: a car service will drive us – I’m coming along –
Oh, that will be fun, I responded.
So, the car service will drive us to Hartford; we need to be there by noon; then, Annabelle will go into makeup and have an hour to meet the children and work with the director. They’ll most likely begin shooting around 2:00 or 3:00, finish up around 5:00 or 6:00, and the car will drive us back to Manhattan.
It’s a long ride, I said. I wish they shot in Manhattan or one of the boroughs.
Well, since the company is in Hartford, we have no choice.
I understand.
Well, I’ll take care of the contracts for our little girl, and I’ll be seeing you soon. Give Annabelle my love.
I hung up the phone.
A month later, Annabelle, Thatch, Stella, and I waited outside the building for the car taking us to Hartford.
It’s too early, Thatch moaned.
Don;t you remember, Thatch, how long the trip is to Hartford? I asked him.
Sorta. That was several years ago.
Yes, it was, Annabelle told him. Just after we got home from Ohio?
I hated Ohio! Thatch responded.
I did, too, Annabelle answered. I’m never going back there.
And two cats, looking straight at me, sangm “‘Why, Oh, why? Oh, Why-O?”
When they finished their lament, I said, Well, I couldn’t leave you here while I went back. I’m really sorry you had a bad time.
And then, Annabelle said, they shelved the commercial because of that stupid plague, I thought ut would never show on the TV.
Oh, that’s right! I told them. I had forgotten that! It was a nice commercial. Annabelle, you were so pretty in it.
Yes, I was. This is going to be a fun trip. I like the people who run Kitty Treats.
Well, just behave, all of you, I told the three cats sitting at my feet. Annabelle has her work, and the rest of us are here to support her. Thatch, Stella, listen to me: no shenanigans, no romping, okay?
Yes, Daddy! Thatch answered.
Stella? You gonna behave? She gave me a why-should-I-listen-to-you look.
She’s still angry at you for taking away her tambourinne, Daddy, Thatch answered.
Well, Thatch, I didn’t need her shaking that thing all day These commercial shots aren’t a romp in the park.
That’s right, Annabelle told us. I have to concentrate on what I’m doing.
We’ll st stay out of the way, Annabelle, I told her.
I know you will, Daddy.
At that moment, I saw a car turn from Broadway onto West 82nd Street. Oh look! I said. I think this might be our car.
The car pulled up to our building, and R.U. Fémos opened the back door. Come on, come on! We don’t want to be late, he told us.
Three cats scampered ahead of me and leaped into the seat with him.
No more room, Daddy! No room! Annabelle laughed. You have to stay here, Daddy!
Very funny, Annabelle! Move over. Let me in.
There was a lot of shuffling. Annabelle settled in R.U. Fémos’ lap, and he ended up sitting behind the driver. Thatch took my lap, and Stella – ever the odd cat out – crawled into the rear window and went to sleep.
Everybody ready? R.U. asked. Okay, next stop Hartford!
The ride back from Connecticut was hell, the complete opposite of the joyous morning trip from Manhattan to Hartford. As Annabelle quietly wept, I was happy to be out of a tense situation and heading home. Thatch tried on occasion to cut through the tension with feeble attempts at humor, but the car was too saturated with the atmosphere of failed chances and defeated dreams. Stella, aware that the situation was grim, wisely stayed out of the way and slept in the space just inside the rear window. The only sounds in the car were the driver’s radio, the whispered phone calls of R.U. Fémos as he took charge of damage control, and Annabelle’s whimpering.
Very angry over the events of the day, I stroked the back of the wrrping Annabelle and thought, O God, I wish I were drunk.
R.U. Fémos, closed his phone and turned to me. Well, I think things will be okay, he told me. Of course, things will be in limbo till tomorrow. It’s too late to do anything more tonight. How’s our little girl?
I wish I was dead! she wailed.
Annabelle, listen to me, R.U. told her. This was a rotten day, but you did nothing wrong.
I’m really glad you stood up for yourself, Annabelle, Thatch whispered to her.
Awww, Annabelle, I told her, you have to stop beating yourself up over this. She remained curled up in my lap. At least her crying had ceased. You’ll feel better when we get home, I told her, but I didn’t believe it.
Yes! Thatch said. We can watch the DVD of CATS! That always cheers you up, Annabelle. I
just want to die, Annabelle moaned. I am so ashamed.
It wasn’t your fault, Annabelle, R.U. spoke up, so stop blaming yourself. His phone ran g; he looked at the number. Oh, Jeez, he muttered. It’s the Tony winner. I’ve gotta take it.
It was late, nearly 10:00. I stared out the window and thought about the day.
We had arrived in Hartford just before noon. The president of Kitty Treats, Josh Outlands, and the director of the commercial’s director, Scott Marks, were waiting inside the door of the studio to greet our star with much affection.
How’s our favorite kitty? Josh hugged Annabelle. Welcome back, sweetheart.
Annabelle! Scott exclaimed, I’m so happy you’re back for another shoot.
Thank you! I’m delighted to be here. Are we going to have fum today? I hope so.
Hello, Josh, R.U. Fémos shook his hand. Do you remember Mr. Moore?
Hello, Mr. Moore, Josh shook my hand. Nice to see you again. I see you brought the whole family.
I’m afraid to leave them home alone, I laughed. You haven’t met Stella, I told him. We adopted her just before the pandemic, but you may remember Thatch, my boy.
I do, vaguely. We’ve got lunch set up just outside the studio, so, please, go eat. Then Annabelle can meet her cast and get into makeup. He turned to R.U. Are you free to discuss a few things?
I am, but I’d like a bit of lunch first, if I might?
Of course. Scott, I’m going back to my office. I’ll be back in an hour. You’re in charge.
Fine, Scott, who had been holding Annabelle, replied. Okay, Annabelle, heasked her, You ready for lunch? Come on. The studio we’re using today is just down the hall,
As he walked away with Annabelle, R.U., Stella, Thatch, and I followedm
This is going to be such fun! Annabelle laughed.
Next to the studio, there was a small green room in which lunch had been set up. When we entered the room there were two young children, a boy and a girl, noisily running about, and two ladies that I assumed were their mothers. As soon as the children saw Annabelle, they ran up to Scott.
Is this the cat? the boy, who looked to be around ten or so, asked him.
Yes, Scott answered, This is Annabelle.
Can I pet her? the little girl — I guessed her to be around seven or eight — asked.
They’ve just arrived, Scott told her, so let’s let them have some lunch and calm down from their trip. You’ll have plenty of time to visit with her after that.
At that moment, the boy saw Stella and Thatch and yelled More cats! He and the girl ran toward me. Thatch immediately panicked and wet the floor while Stella climbed up my leg to get to my shoulder. I lost my balance and stepped back into the table, knocking a pile of paper plates to the floor. I grabbed a handful of paper napkins and dropped to the floor as Stella jumped off my should and ran, pursued by two laughing children. The ladies looked up from their tête-à-tête at the noise.
What’s going on? one lady asked sharply.
Margaret! the other called, you get back here.
Just a minor accident, Scott replied as i wiped up Thatch’s accident with the napkins.
When I looked up, Thatch had vanished. Oh, no! I moaned. Where could he have gone to now? Did anyone see where he went? I need to wash my hands.
I’ll get them! one of the assistants or technicians standing around told me. The men’s room is down that hall on the right.
By the time I returned, the children were with their mothers, who were chatting with R.U. Fémos, and tthe three cats were having some lunch.
Did I miss anything important? I asked Scott. Were the cats any trouble?
No. sir, everything’s under control. Let’s just hope it stays that way. Excuse me, I need to discuss the schedule with my crew. He walked over to several young men and ladies wearing headphones.
I turned and studied the lunch choices, There were a couple of salads and several different types of sandwiches. I took a bit of each salad and selected what I hoped was turkey and Swiss. It was. As I ate, Stella and Thatch finished their meals and joined ,e
Thatch? I asked, how was you lunch? Did you get enough to eat, Stella?
It was yummy! Thatch replied. I think it was fish.
Are you all calmed down? Those kids gave you a fright.
Are they professional? he whispered. Those children in the Irish Rep show were so disciplined. They were nevver noisy and jumping about.
Well, baby, these kids are young. They’ll behave in the studio.
A pretty young lady I guessed to be in her early thirties entered the room. Sorry I’m late, she said to one of the technical crew. I had trouble with my GPS.
All’s good, ma’am, the young man said. I’ll tell Scott you’ve arrived.
Hello, Mary Anne! R.U. said to her. Are you in this, too?
Yes, she replied. I’m playing the role of Mother. She laughed. It’s nice to see you, R.U. How have you been?
Mr. Moore, R.U. said, this pretty lady Mary Anne Jonson. My company did some publicity for her several years ago when she was in a show at Long Wharf? or was it Hartford Stage?
Neither, she laughed. I was at Goodspeed, 2018.
Of course! I remember now. Let me introduce you to your costar.
That would be nice.
Both mothers perked up. Margaret! one called.
Eddie, said the other one. Come over and meet this lady.
Of course, R.U. said to her. This lovely girl is Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Mary Anne Jonson. You will love working with her. She’s very talented.
I assume these are my children, Mary Anne said to R.U. Let me meet them.
A little before 1:00, Annabelle, Mary Anne, and the two children were taken off to makeup. Scott and his crew had vanished into the studio, leaving R.U., Stella, Thatch, and me with the mothers. Thatch and Stella curled up on the sofa next to me and slept. The mothers kept their distance.
Those mothers aren’t too friendly, I commented to R.U.
No, not particularly, Stage mothers are a strange breed. These two are way too anxious to get their children into show biz, so they asked for my advice.
Did you give them any?
I did, actually, but I don’t think they appreciated it. I gave them my card, and I told them that I’d want to see more of what their children could do before I could offer much advice. I am not fond of stage mothers, especially amateur stage mothers.
Josh Outlands came into the room. Everything on schedule? he asked R.U.
Seems to be. R.U. replied. He looked at his watch. They should be shooting by now.
Good, good, good, Josh replied. I have some questions for you, as well as a few papers to sign. Can we do this now?
Of course, R.U. responded.
Excellent. Let’s go out into the hall.
R.U. rose from the sofa, and I watched him and the CEO of Kitty Treats walk out of the green room. I settled back and fell asleep.
Daddy! Daddy! Thatch woke me. Are you awake?
Uh, I am now, Thatch. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Stella? Stella? Are you okay?
I wanna go home.
Oh. All right. We will as soon as the commercial’s finished. It shouldn’t be long. I looked at my watch. It was nearly 4:30. I sat up. My my God! I exclaimed. I thought this would be finished by now. What the hell? I looked around. The mothers were in the room, but there was no sign of R.U. or Josh Overlands. A young man and woman were cleaning up the lunch debris. I rose from the sofa and walked over to them for a small bottle of water. Are they still shooting the commercial? I asked.
Yessir, the young lady answered.
I don’t vremember the last commercial taking so long to shoot . . .tape . . .uh, whatever.
No. There have been some . . . complications.
Really? I asked. What’s going on?
I really don’t know.
I don’t think this is going to work out,. I recognized the voice. At that moment, R.U. Fémos walked out of the studio with Annabelle, followed by Josh Overlands, and Scott. The door swung shut. The mothers topped their endless discussion and looked up.
I am not going back in there! Annabelle stated before she jumped into my arms. Take me home, Daddy! Please!
What the hell is going on? I asked.
We’re taking Annabelle back to New York, R.U. said to me. This shoot is over.
What happened? I asked.
I will not work with these children, Annabelle stated, I have been chased, pinched, shoved, and hurt, and I cannot work with these little beasts,
I’m sorry, Annabelle, Scott told her. Let’s just do one more take.
No. They’ve pulled my tail, they won’t take direction, and I will not work with amateurs. Take me home.
Annabelle, Scott pleaded, please . . . just one more. I think we can piece together-
Those children have worn me out. I ‘m outa here.
Are you sure, Missy? I asked her. What happened?
R.U. spoke up. I must protect my client, Scott. I’m sorry. Would you please call for the car?
R.U., Josh interrupted, are you sure this is the best solution?
At the moment, yes, I’m sure. We’re ready to leave.
I’m sorry, Scott, Annabelle told him.
Annbelle, I love you, but I am very unhappy with you, Scott told her.
Scott! As she reached out to him, he turned away. She burst into tears. I’m sorry, Scott!
Okay, Annabelle, I said, let’s go home; let me get my things. I turned back to the sofa and retrieved my tote bag and book I had intended to read. Thatch! Stella! you ready?
The car’s outside, one of the crew told Josh.
Thank you, he responded. Okay, Scott, you can close down the set and send the kids home.
That led to a fliurry of activity and protestations from the mothers. We’ve got a contract! one of them protested.
You’re letting a stupid cat destroy my Margaret’s first commercial? cried the other.
Stupid cat? Annabelle haughtily asked. Those “children” should be made into rugs! Where’s the car? I am outa here.
By the time we arrived home and I had dealt with emails and messages, settling the cats down and giving them their bedtime treat, I got to bed a little before midnight. Annabelle settled next to me, and most of my night was spent listening to her whimpers and sobs. Around 3:00, I turned on the light and held her.
Annabelle, baby, please, please calm down and get some sleep.
I can’t, Daddy. I’m too upset. I didn’t mean to spoil today’s shoot.
I know, Missy.
Is this the end of my career?
Of course not, I replied, hopng she didn’t hear my fear that it was. I think you should get some sleep, and we’ll see how things stand in the morning. We can’t do anything more until we hear from R.U. Fémos.
I guess so, she whispered.
Then let’s get some sleep. You know what Scarlett O’Hara says about tomorrow.
As I turned off the light, I heard Annabelle say, No, I don’t.
The next morning, shortly after 10:00, while I was working the ballet score, the phone rang. Hello? I asked.
Mr. Moore? R.U. Fémos here.
Good morning, R.U! You know, after all this time, you can call me Larry.
Social calls are one thing, but this is a business call to my client’s manager.
Oh, God, I thought, this bodes no good. Instead, I said, Yessir, I understand. At my feet, Annabelle was holding onto my pants leg. Just a minute, sir. Annabelle, I whispered, calm down, Missy, please!
I’ve just had a long call with Josh Outlands of Kitty Treats.
Let me sit down for this. Okay, tell me how it went.
Well, he’s very unhappy about the wasted money yesterday . . . Kitty Treats is a relatively new company, so he’s worried about costs . . .
I can understand that. I hope he’s not asking Annabelle to pay for the day. Her grip on my leg tightened.
R.U. laughed, No, luckily our little diva has not been found guilty of anything.
Really? I relaxed.
No, they love Annabelle. After we left yesterday, Josh had a meeting with Scott about the mess, and this morning he spoke to Mary Anne Jonson, the young lady who played the mother? She confirmed the two children were horrible to Annabelle and very undisciplined; Scott only said they were difficult.
You know Annabelle loves working with people.
I do, and the Kitty Treats folk know it, too. They really love Annabelle, so the gist of this whole issue is that they will cast new children and redo the commercial with Annabelle in a couple of weeks . . . if Annabelle is willing.
I think she might be.
Josh will be sending her a token of their apologies in the next few days. Can I tell them Annabelle is willing to come back?
I think she’ll agree, but let me confirm that with her before you call them back.
Tell her not to keep me waiting too long.
I won’t, I promise. I’ll talk to you soon.
I hung up the phone and Annabelle jumped onto the computer table. What’s happening? What did R.U. tell you? Am I in trouble?
No, Missy. It’s all good news. They want to recast the children and reshoot the commercial with . . .
Plot twist! Thatch yelled.
With me?
Yes, Missy! With you!
They like me! They really like me! I feel like Sally Field!
©2026, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 