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HEATHER

F or some reason, seeing her dyed hair wet after her shower was more unsettling than seeing it dry.

At least when it was dry, Heather could convince herself that it could be a wig.

But now, watching the water gather at the dark blue tips of her mermaid-colored hair and drip down her bare skin made it impossible to mistake.

This was her hair, dyed every shade of blue and turquoise and green to match the main character’s style.

As a stunt double, she’d never done a role like this one, and she’d thought it would be fun at first. But now she was feeling the pressure for real.

Heather Bennett was the newest stunt double on the set of the feature film, Revenge is a Dish .

The main character was a young, attractive hacker with a punk-rock style and a background in martial arts.

She was just shy of a superhero, fighting powerful men with just her wits, her motorcycle, and a preference for wearing black leather.

The only problem with any of this was that Heather’s personality was the polar opposite.

She looked the part, but could she act it?

The lead actress fit the bill perfectly, personality-wise, as far as Heather was aware.

But Heather had always been a rule follower, a list maker, and definitely not a risk taker. At least, not since the accident.

So, how does a risk-averse, type-A personality get into the stunt double business?

Heather had one person to blame for that — her mother.

Stephanie Bennett had grown up with big theater dreams she never quite realized, though she always insisted she would take nothing back, having thoroughly enjoyed her life on stage just the way it was.

When her mom suggested that Heather try acting, just to pull herself out of the depression she’d fallen into after the accident, Heather had shrugged and gone along.

Little did she know it would eventually become her whole world, and the skills she’d honed from her destroyed career as a competitive gymnast would be put to good use.

At the same time, she would be able to choose the roles that would be gentler on her injury.

It was a perfect fit, really. The trouble with perfect was that Heather always felt the pressure of it, no matter how much her mom tried to talk her down.

She toweled her hair and tied it into a quick bun.

They’d wet it, dry it, and style it at the studio anyway.

Then she went to her room to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

No point in dressing up when she was only going to get into costume right away.

Her stomach churned at the thought of her first day on set.

She tried to stuff the feeling back down so she could avoid having to eat breakfast twice.

Then her phone rang, and it was probably the sweetest sound she had ever heard. “Mom!”

Stephanie Bennett’s voice was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. “So,” she said, “have you finished having your panic attack yet?”

“Not quite,” Heather admitted. No one knew her as well as her mom, so she didn’t bother arguing with her. “This role is just not me, you know? I don’t even look like myself.”

“That’s the whole point, honey,” her mom said. “You get to be someone else for a bit, just for fun. You’re not supposed to be yourself.”

“I just don’t think I’m good at being anyone else, though.

” Heather started packing a bag with everything she might need throughout the day.

Her mom used to tease her about carrying what amounted to a diaper bag without diapers, but it gave Heather some sense of control over situations in which she felt otherwise helpless.

At least, if everything in her life collapsed because of one stupid mistake, this time, she would have snacks.

“Bring cheese,” her mom said, and Heather didn’t even question how her mom knew what she was doing at this exact moment. It was just tradition at this point. “It’s got protein.”

“I have some almonds, Mom. Gotta watch my waist for this one.”

Her Mom groaned. “Used to be you could get a fit guy in a wig to double for you. Now, everybody’s pausing and looking for ‘mistakes’ frame by frame. What ever happened to just enjoying a movie for goodness’ sake?”

“Times change, Mom.” Heather laughed. She knew her mom wasn’t nearly as perturbed as she pretended to be. She was just trying to get Heather out of her own head. “Anyway, I’m all out of cheese.”

“A terrible state to be in,” Stephanie said, and Heather could just about hear her smile. “You need some cheese charity. Should I stop by the store on my way over tonight?”

“Mom!” Heather brought out a bag of birdseed to refill the feeder outside her window.

She lived in a third-floor studio in the city, but she’d always loved to watch the birds.

So she covered her windows in those stickers you can get to make your glass bird safe, and added a feeder for the songbirds.

Her apartment was tiny, but it had been hers for the last three years.

The bird feeder made it feel more like home.

“I’m doing it,” her mom threatened. “I might even bring pizza.”

“No pizza, Mom.”

Stephanie sighed over the phone as Heather put the bag of birdseed away and started pouring coffee into one thermos and juice in another. “Fine,” she conceded. “No pizza. Just some flatbread with sauce and cheese.”

Heather’s mom was always a pro at distracting her from whatever she was freaking out about at any given time.

“You’re hilarious,” Heather said with an eye roll accompanied by a great big smile.

She pulled the phone from her ear and brought up the list of items to pack, which she’d spent far too much of last night assembling.

“I’m not forgetting anything am I?” she muttered to herself.

But her mom was on speakerphone and heard her regardless. “All you need is attitude, honey. Just put that chin up and walk in like you own the place. Just like you did when you were a little girl and you tried on my feather boa and sunglasses for the first time. Remember?”

“Not really,” Heather answered, “but I’ve seen the picture.”

“My pride and joy,” Stephanie said.

Heather laughed. “Me or the photo?”

“Both and you know it.” Stephanie was quiet a minute while Heather put her phone in her pocket and zipped up her bag.

Then she broke the silence. “You know how proud I am of you, don’t you, honey?

No matter what. You’re a survivor, strong and smart.

I know you’ll pull through, and I know you’re going to— What is it the kids say nowadays? Crush it.”

Heather chuckled under her breath. “Thanks, Mom,” she said. “Really.”

“Okay, now break a leg, honey. And call me right after.”

“You know I will.” Heather hung up feeling much better than she had before her mom had called.

It was nothing new. Her mom was always able to talk her down and give her some achievable goals to reach for.

Today, the goal was to convince Stephanie not to bring pizza when she showed up for dinner.

Very achievable. Maybe a compromise was in order.

Veggie pizza with a thin crust could work.

Heather left her apartment and locked up, thinking all the while about whether she should talk her mom into healthier takeout or compromise on the pizza. Or flatbread with sauce and cheese. She smiled to herself on and off all the way to the studio.

Everything was going to be okay. No matter what happened, she had her mom on her side.

It felt childish having that thought, but Heather was fine with feeling childish every once in a while.

She knew what it was like to lose family, so she treasured anyone who stuck around, and she didn’t see anything wrong with that.

The stylist sat Heather in front of a mirror and began combing out her damp hair.

Then she dried it and worked one braid into the upper-left side of her head.

The braid pulled the hair on the bottom half of her head tight on that side, and the stylist teased the upper half to give it more volume.

The style gave her hair the vague appearance of an asymmetrical undercut, just enough of an edge without being intimidating.

Her character was meant to go against the grain, but the director wanted her to look relatable, too, since the film was primarily from her perspective.

Heather turned her head to the left and to the right and appreciated the style.

It really did look fantastic on her, even though it wasn’t something she would have chosen on her own.

The streaks of blues and greens complemented the green of her eyes, although that wouldn’t likely be anything anyone would notice, considering she was the stunt double and not the star.

“Let’s get you into costume,” the stylist said, holding up a pair of black leather pants.

The dressing room was bursting with clothes racks full of costumes.

Heather often wondered how the costume people kept everything straight, but they seemed to have a system that worked for them, no matter how chaotic it came across.

Heather began to strip out of her loungewear and squeeze into the leather costume. “I swear I didn’t gain weight since you took my measurements,” she joked.

The stylist laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s meant to be tight. It stretches. You’re going to look so perfect in it, and once it’s on, it’s surprisingly comfortable.”

“Have you been lounging around in this or something.” Heather winked at the woman helping her.