S

plat!

Gabriella swiveled around as a snowball landed squarely on her shoulder blades. Grinning, she dug her gloves into the rich, white blanket covering the Rhodope, preparing to shoot a snowball back at the girls.

Rina was right about filming on the snow-covered mountains, Gabriella thought. She smiled as she watched the giggling girls hopping in the deep snow, tiny against the breathtaking scenery. Coordinated freestyle was what Rina called the choreography, and though Connor kept grumbling about the sun glare on the bright snow, everyone else seemed to be having a blast.

Well, almost everyone.

“Stop!” Rina’s shrill voice, magnified by the mountainous echo, made Gabriella jump. Connor, who’d finally gotten the go-ahead from his lighting guy, gesticulated in annoyance.

“Girls, you look like robots! Some life, please?”

Gabriella raised her eyebrows. The criticism was totally off, but Rina looked grimmer than Gabriella could ever remember seeing her. The characteristic spark in her eyes was gone — and it was only in its absence that Gabriella appreciated how much Rina’s inner vitality and enthusiasm lit her up, and energized everyone around her.

But she didn’t want to let her thoughts go down that path. As it was, the scene from last night kept replaying in her mind. Rina asking to view the documentary, her mood light and playful. Gabriella turning it on, calming her nerves by telling herself that there was nothing really bad in it. Hadn’t she combed through it so carefully, ten, twenty times, making sure there was nothing about Rina that Gabriella wouldn’t want said about herself?

And then, Rina’s reaction. First, her disquietude, then the frantic way she paced the room, and finally, shutting down the film — and herself — completely.

For the first time, Gabriella had begun to question her judgment. She’d sat up for a long time after Rina had gone to sleep, re-watching the documentary. Yes, there were parts that made her wince, quotes she’d been fairly certain she’d cut, and didn’t quite remember putting back in.

But overall, it was fair. Fair and honest. Watching Rina berating the cast, Gabriella kicked a mound of snow hard against a nearby tree. Didn’t Rina understand that a documentary wasn’t just an art form — it was, above all, journalism? Journalism wasn’t about dancing in the sun-flecked snow or singing cheesy lyrics about life being grand. The point of a documentary was to tell a story about real people and their real struggles. Nevertheless, Gabriella’s portrayal of Rina and Huvy was, on the whole, quite positive. She’d made a special effort to ensure that.

She wished she could articulate all of this to Rina. She’d planned on talking it out on the bus this morning, after Rina had slept on her initial hurt. But Gabriella herself had barely slept, waking from her short nap with a raging headache. And then Rina had been quick to invite Huvy to sit next to her. Out of guilt? Perhaps. But if her documentary spurred Rina to make more of an effort to get to know her daughter, well, wasn’t that a good thing?

(Excerpted from Family First, Issue 636)