“I’m not allowed to discuss details yet, but the director’s name rhymes with Bess Panderson,” I reply, reaching across the table to fill Athena’s glass of punch all the way to the rim so that if she moves it a millimeter, punch will spill down her hand. “And no. It isn’t a vanity project.”

She and Felix emit identical noises. It’s the sound you make when you miss your flight by twenty seconds, and now your dream vacation’s canceled.

Pleased, I continue: “Jane takes a job as the nanny of a rich man’s daughter, but she’s hiding dark secrets about her past. The little girl is evil. And a ghost. Mr. Rochester is murdered by his previous nanny, who he’s stuffed into the attic. Then the two nannies live together in the house by themselves, throwing lots of parties. Also, the location is a reimagining of the Bellagio and there’s a whole makeover montage as the nannies get their groove back.”

“What?” Felix slams his fork onto the table. “When does it release? What stage of production are you in? I haven’t heard anything about this!”

“What’s it called?” Mom wants to know.

“My Eyre Ladies.”

Kaia, who is busy flipping cards, pauses with an Ace of Pentacles in the air when she hears this, snort-laughing. Grandma taps a different card, The Fool, and they share a grin.

Felix shoves to his feet. I watch him consider flipping the table. “That is the stupidest movie title I’ve ever heard.”

“Felix!” Mom cries. “Don’t be rude.” She leans across Dad to pat Hall’s hand. Dad’s watching me closely. “It sounds wonderful, dear. Felix, apologize right now.”

“But I’m doing a Jane Eyre movie.”

“I’m sure yours is nice, too,” I tell him calmly, cracking the turkey wishbone in half.

His face is red as burning coals. “You’re making this up. You heard about my movie, and now you’re fucking with me.”

“Why can’t you just be supportive?” Mom rebukes with a long-suffering sigh. I have become electric. This phrase has historically been used almost exclusively to me re: my siblings. I fix my brother with a wounded look.

“I support you,” I murmur in a small, quivering voice.

“Congratulations,” Dad forces himself to say during an awkward lull that follows. I think he’s been holding out hope that I’d do something normal with my life, or maybe follow in his footsteps as a photographer. The most excited I’ve ever seen him was when I was briefly fascinated with his camera when I was about sixteen. Then I broke it. “An actor. Suppose it’s fitting.” I assume he means that he shouldn’t be surprised because acting is somewhat of a family affair, but then he adds, “You’ve always been a bit melodramatic.” With a meaningful look from Mom, he hastily adds, “Which is a good thing, if you’re an actor.”

“The only acting she’s doing is right now, pretending she’s in a movie,” Felix shoots back. Then he points accusingly at Hall. “Did she hire you? Who are you? Tell me where you went to college.”