The next week involved a lot of preparation of our home. It was a team effort between my mom and me to get the house Shake the Weight–filming ready. A big part of my role to get the house whipped into shape was purely keeping Fiyero entertained and out of all the new houseplants we’d bought. Apparently, they really touted the benefit of having plants in the home on the show, but Mom hadn’t been able to keep a plant alive for more than a few weeks for my entire life. It was a wonder she raised two semifunctional children.
On the morning of, Mom and I sat in front of my closet, tilting our heads, trying to figure out the perfect outfit. The film crew had sent over a list of patterns and colors to avoid on camera, and in this moment, it seemed like those were the only clothes I owned. The subtle gene of the family totally went to Ashley. My philosophy was always the more color, the better.
“Do you have just a nice, plain blouse?” she asked. “Even a button-down?”
“Are we looking at the same closet right now?” I asked. I started scrounging through my drawers with my appropriately dubbed “boring clothes” until I found a denim button-down. “Can I at least wear red pants with this? I can’t bring myself to do denim on denim. It’s a fashion sin.”
“Sure, whatever, they probably won’t get much of your pants anyway,” she said. “Come here; let’s work on your hair.”
I sat down on the edge of my bed while she worked her magic. She was always incredibly patient when it came to doing our hair or makeup, like it was a chance to step away from her stress and breathe for a second. Her fingers worked deftly on my hair, making the messy pile of blond curls into a French braid.
“Are you nervous?” I asked her.
She was silent for a few beats, threading my hair between her fingers. “Not as much as I thought I would be. I’m more scared for it to air than anything else.”
“People loved you on that show,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about.”
She rested her hands on my shoulders, leaning around so that she could face me. She pecked a quick kiss on my cheek. “You mean that, baby?”
“I mean it,” I said. “And I’m sorry about how I acted about the show earlier. I know how much it meant to you. Means to you.”
“Thank you, sweet girl,” she said. She rubbed her hands up and down my arms before declaring my French braid perfection. I looked down at my phone that blared with a fifteen-minute warning before the crew would be showing up. Mom rushed downstairs in a flurry, and I could hear her rearranging some last-minute things.
I decided that now would be a good time to send a quick text off to Ashley, to warn her that our family would be out of commission for the next few hours while the film crew was here.
Me: Getting ready to welcome the demons into our home.
Ashley: How’s Mom?
Me: A little nervous. I’m trying to keep her calm.
Ashley: Try and keep it positive, k? For Mom’s sake?
Me: I’m on my best behavior. Pinkie swear.
Ashley: Good. Love you. Proud of you. Call me when it’s all done.
Me: Obvs. Love you, Sissy.
Ashley: Right back atcha. <3
The doorbell rang and Fiyero started to bark his head off from the next room. Apparently, he would be featured in a few clips in the video package, but for most of the shoot he would be banished to Ashley’s room. If only we could trade places for the day. I’m sure America would love his little fluffy face more than having to look at mine during an interview.
I looked into the mirror on top of my vanity, which I’d had since my fifth birthday. All that I’d wanted that year was to have a princess bedroom, equipped with a canopy bed, a vanity, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The canopy eventually became a safety hazard because I tangled myself in it as I slept, and the chandelier had been knocked down during an epic pillow fight from sleepovers past, but the vanity had stayed intact. It was this weird relic from my past that I somehow didn’t hate. The perfect and intricate French braid and the makeup made me look like a stranger in my own mirror. This fake person I was about to become, the person who would smile and congratulate my mom for her success on a show that had done so much damage to her, was not something that I felt comfortable with.
“Savannah!” Mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs. That was my cue, whether I liked it or not. As I made my way downstairs, three men with camera equipment started bounding through the front door, setting up lighting in front of the couch in the living room. There was a woman wearing a headset with her cell in hand who was directing them to different parts of the house. A few other people flitted around our crowded entrance, waiting for instructions from the woman who was obviously in charge.
“Kim! It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” the woman said, kissing both sides of Mom’s face like she was an English socialite. You can’t expect people to take your fanciness seriously when you’re wearing Birkenstocks and shorts.
“Arden,” Mom said back, pulling away. I knew it was taking everything in her not to wipe her cheeks off. Mom had a thing with germs. “Great to see you, too! Can I get you all anything?”
“Just your beautiful smile!” Arden said. She instructed a few of her minions still lingering around her to go wait in the living room with the cameramen. She finally took me in, and I could feel her eyes tracking up and down my person. I suddenly felt completely exposed, even though I was completely covered.
“This must be one of your lovely daughters,” Arden said, smiling.
“This is my youngest, Savannah,” she said, putting a hand on my back.
“I’ve heard so much about you and your sister,” Arden said, collecting my fingers into a vise grip. “Now, my idea is to do the interviews first, then we’ll get B-roll. Let’s start with Kim. It will remind you of shoots during the show. Then we’ll bring in Savannah.”
She definitely picked up on the flinch and look of fear that came across me when she mentioned my being interviewed.
“Don’t worry, dear, it won’t take long. Ten minutes with you, max. I promise.”
Even ten minutes sounded a little bit torturous. Regardless, I plastered on my best fake smile and hoped that it could last through this entire day.
I sat on the love seat kitty-corner from the couch, the official “on deck” position, as Arden called it. They had been interviewing Mom for the past ten minutes and were starting to get into the nitty-gritty of the questions.
“So, Kim, tell everyone how the show has changed your life at home,” Arden prompted.
“I feel like I have my head on straight nowadays. I’m focused and determined to meet my goals each week and keep up with what Shake the Weight taught me. I keep inspirational messages sprinkled throughout the house for me and my girls to look at,” she said.
“And how have your girls responded to your being on the show?” she asked.
My palms started to sweat waiting for her answer. The smile that Mom had so perfectly been keeping up faltered for a moment before it shone even brighter.
“My girls have been incredibly supportive and have been making life changes alongside me. It’s important to me that we are making changes that will keep everyone healthier for longer, and they seem to be taking to it really well,” she said.
The lies spilled out of her mouth and sounded just like she’d probably rehearsed them so many times in front of the mirror. How was I supposed to follow up to that? Say that the thinspirations around the house were good for everyone? That her tiny backhanded comments about my weight inspired me to become fit? All both of those things did was make me feel worse and completely discourage me.
“Good, Kim. Can you say that quote again with a bigger smile at the beginning?” Arden asked.
Mom repeated the same sentiment, this time with more enthusiasm. It sounded true. It sounded like we were a family who rallied behind her extreme weight loss and wanted to follow suit. It was kind of a beautiful picture she painted, and for a moment, I wished it were true.
“Great. Okay, Savannah? It’s your turn, dear,” Arden said.
Mom came up from the couch and squeezed my shoulder as we traded spots. I wasn’t sure if it was out of support or a warning to stick to the script. I suddenly felt like I might get sunburned under the harsh lights. I tugged at my denim button-down, wishing suddenly that I’d worn a color that didn’t wash me out so horribly. That’s what I get for grabbing something out of the boring clothes drawer.
“All right. Savannah, can you tell us about what it was like for your mom to get the call from Shake the Weight that we wanted her to be on the show? Do you remember that day?” Arden asked.
I could feel Mom’s eyes boring into me. With the mixture of her gaze and the shining lights, my vision started to go fuzzy. My panic bubbled at the bottom of my stomach and started shooting itself through my veins, making me hyperaware of the amount of people staring at me. I took a deep breath through my nose and out of my mouth, in an effort to keep my anxiety at bay. It was hardly working.
“You need some water, dear?” Arden asked.
“I’ll grab her a glass,” one of the cameramen offered, sneaking away to the kitchen.
“I swear, I’ll get you in and out as quick as possible, all right, sweetheart?” Arden asked.
I nodded my head, embarrassed that I was suddenly being pitied by this entire crew of strangers. The cameraman handed me a glass of water and I gladly took it, gulping about half of it before setting it down on the coffee table in front of me.
“Feeling good? Good. Let’s start again,” Arden said. “Tell us about the day that you found out your mom was going to be on Shake the Weight.”
“Uh, um, yeah. That day she got the call. It was … Mother’s Day, I’m pretty sure. We were all eating dinner that Ashley had cooked when the phone rang. Mom dropped the phone when you guys told her who it was. After she was done talking to you guys, she went upstairs and started packing her bags for her screen test. We started packing our bags to stay with our dad for the weekend,” I said.
Arden frowned at me, then motioned for the camera to quit rolling. The lights dimmed a bit, and I felt like I could breathe again.
“Can we make it a little bit more peppy, dear? We don’t need the play-by-play. What were you all feeling in that moment? What was her excitement like?” Arden asked.
I nodded, and she motioned for them to start rolling again.
“She was really excited, so excited that she started packing her bags almost immediately after she got off the phone. It was nice to see her get excited about something again. It had been so long,” I said.
“And why is that?” Arden pushed.
I looked to my mom. How personal was I supposed to get? Was I supposed to mention that my dad had an affair with her best friend? That their divorce had been a no-holding-back brawl?
“I mean, since the divorce and everything, she was not quite herself,” I said.
Arden nodded. “What was it like watching her on TV?”
“It was really surreal. It was almost like she wasn’t the same person when I saw her on TV. She acted completely different than she had my whole life. It was really weird to watch, actually. I wondered a lot about what she would be like when she came back. Whether she’d be my same mom.”
“And is she?” Arden pressed.
“Yes and no,” I said. “She’s definitely happier. But she is not the same person who left last year.”
Arden looked back at the cameramen and did the same motion that she had before. She came and sat next to me on the couch, resting her arm behind me, uncomfortably close.
“I feel like you mean that your mom is a better person thanks to the show, right? Do you want to try that clip again saying something more along those lines? We’re trying to keep it positive here, dear, and you’re bringing it down a little bit right now,” Arden said.
“Sorry,” I said, feeling my face burn. I couldn’t look at Mom. This was her nightmare come to life—me not being able to say anything positive like she’d asked. The worst part about it all was I thought I was holding back.
“It’s all right. Let’s just try it again,” she said, leaving her spot next to me on the couch. The lights turned back up to full brightness, and I squinted.
“My mom came back a completely different person after the show. And definitely for the better. I’m proud of all her hard work on the show,” I said.
“That’s more like it!” Arden said. “Now, Savannah, how has your life changed since your mom has been on the show?”
“People recognize us at the grocery store now,” I said, which garnered a few giggles from everyone around us. “Other than that, my life hasn’t changed too much.”
“Has your mom inspired you to be healthier?”
“Inspired? Forced might be the better word. Wait, let me rephrase that. She makes conscious efforts to prepare healthy meals for my sister and me. It’s a lifestyle change that we’ve had to adjust to … For the better!” I added hastily.
“Where’s your sister today?” Arden asked.
“Oh, she’s off being the dutiful college student. I wish I was there with her—learning and school gets me so excited. I’m sure she’s having a blast learning from all the new people she’s meeting. There’s only so much you can do in a small town in Indiana where everyone knows all your business,” I said.
“Okay, Savannah, I think that’s all the questions I have for you. See? I promised. Quick and painless,” Arden said.
I breathed the first sigh of relief I had all morning. As the cameramen set up a different angle for other shots, I sank into the couch next to Mom. I smiled her way, glad to finally be through with the hardest part of this process. She had her arms and legs crossed, and looked straight ahead, refusing to glance my way.
“Mom,” I whispered.
“We’re going to talk about this later, Savannah. I can’t even look at you right now,” she said.
Dread pooled in my gut. I thought I had done pretty well with the interview portion. I wasn’t sure where this hostility from her was coming. Arden made sure that she got the good, positive clips that she needed.
After the crew left, Mom and a couple of her friends from work decided to go out for a celebratory drink. I was supposed to stay at home and watch Fiyero. Immediately after they left, I raced up to Ashley’s room to let Fiyero out of his prison for the day. I nearly toppled over with the force he used to hug me when he saw me. I nestled my face into his fur while he tried to lick my face, one of my least favorite Fiyero tricks.
“I’m sorry you only got to come down for a few minutes, buddy,” I said, scratching behind his ears. “I bet you were confused hearing our voices and not being able to come down and see us. I wish you could’ve been downstairs the whole time. I bet Arden wouldn’t have had to cut off your interview.”
He cocked his head like he was trying to understand me. I always believed that he was formulating his official response in dog language whenever he did that.
I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialed Ashley, listening to the ringtone repeat again and again. It pushed me to her voice mail, and I frowned at my phone, hanging up. I texted her instead.
Me: Hey. Just tried to call you. Lots of dirt on the shoot today.
Ashley: I’m working on a group project. Call you tomorrow?
I sucked in a sharp breath, not realizing how close I had been on the verge of tears until I knew that Ashley wasn’t available to talk me down. To remind me that everything would be okay and that I had tried my best with the interview. Pinprick tears started forming in the corners of my eyes, making my vision blurry.
Me: Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.
No “love yous” or “bye to you, toos” to be seen.