Thursdays At Eight by Debbie Macomber

didn’t go unappreciated, and Karen found herself warming to her sister. “Me, too. What I’m really hoping for is a part in a commercial. I’m trying out for another spot next week. The director liked me the last time and wants to see me again.”
    Her mother’s eyes narrowed and she put down her fork.
    â€œNaturally, I’d love a role in a weekly series,” Karen added. “But according to my agent I need a few credits first. She thinks I should get my feet wet doing commercials. Plus, the pay isn’t bad, and there are residuals. Then she wants me to audition for a part in a situation comedy.”
    With great deliberateness, her mother smeared a dollop of sour cream on the quesadilla, and Karen saw that her hand shook as she did so.
    â€œEven if you got a part in a commercial, you’d go back to substitute teaching, wouldn’t you?” Catherine asked.
    â€œWell, yes, I suppose, but teaching is only a means to an end for me. I—”
    â€œI thought you were finally putting your college degree to good use. Your father and I paid a great deal of money for your education. You can’t imagine how much it distressed us to hear that you’re more interested in…in cleaning toilets than in making something worthwhile of your life.”
    â€œIt wasn’t exactly a housecleaning job,” Karen muttered. “Not that there’s—” She stopped abruptly, forcing herself to swallow the rest of her retort. “I deeply appreciate my education, Mom.” Which was true, but only because it allowed her to support herself while trying out for acting roles.
    â€œAre you seeing anyone?” Victoria asked, once again diverting the conversation to a different subject.
    â€œJeff and I went out the other night.”
    â€œJeff Hansen?” her mother asked. “Isn’t he the boy from your high-school drama group?”
    â€œYes, he’s teaching aerobics classes at Body and Spirit Gymnasium, and wants to get back into acting. I hooked him up with my agent.”
    â€œOh, dear,” Catherine murmured. “I play bridge with his mother…. She was so pleased when Jeff got a real job, and now this.”
    â€œWhy do you think acting is such a horrible career?” Karen burst out. “Can you explain that to me once and for all?”
    Her mother sighed as though the answer should be obvious. “You mean you don’t know? Just look at the class of people who become professional actors! They’re all involved with drugs and not a one of them stays married. These women get pregnant and most don’t even bother to marry the child’s father. They have babies by a bunch of different men. They take their clothes off for the whole world to see. They have absolutely no morals, Karen—and everyone knows the successful ones sleep with their casting directors. The unsuccessful ones are just unemployed.”
    â€œThat’s so unfair,” Karen cried, not caring that she’d attracted attention to herself. “You’re judging me by what’s in the tabloids. There’s more to being an actress than what those headlines scream and furthermore, you can’t believe everything you read!” The only true thing her mother had said was that remark about unemployment, which Karen chose to ignore. “Besides,” she added, “not all actors use drugs.”
    â€œI’ve read about those Hollywood parties with the drugs and sex and God knows what else. I don’t want my daughter mixing with that kind of crowd.”
    â€œMom, you don’t know what you’re talking about!”
    â€œI do. They’ll lure you in. Weird cults and casting couches…”
    â€œI’m not doing drugs,” Karen insisted. “I’ve never come across a cult, weird or otherwise. And I’ve never even seen a casting couch, let alone done anything on one.”
    â€œWhat about this