The drama is over and Cary Deuber is back to life as usual
Until the final two episodes, Preston Hollow surgical nurse Cary Deuber was arguably the most boring cast-mate on “The Real Housewives of Dallas,” which ended its rocky inaugural season last month. She didn’t throw wine at anyone, she had very little to contribute to the fecal-based discussions that consumed the other characters, and she largely avoided the fray.
“It’s kind of embarrassing, a little bit,” she says of the infighting. “For the most part I tried to stay out of it. … I’m just too good for that. Not to be an uppity whatever, but that’s just not me.”
Then fellow Preston Hollow charity organizer LeeAnne Locken attacked her marriage to plastic surgeon Dr. Mark Deuber, claiming she stole him from another woman. That’s when Cary’s claws really came out.
“I’m an opinionated girl, I’m from the East Coast,” where, apparently, people are more opinionated.
Despite the deluge of drama, Cary says, it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities she had to take, or she’d always wonder “what if.” It was something she would always have to look back on, a moment captured forever under reality-TV glass.
“I don’t feel like Bravo comes knocking on your day every day,” she says.
And maybe that’s a good thing. While a decent 1 million viewers tuned in to the first episode, that number steadily declined each week, making it the proverbial poop hat (only those who watched will understand) of the “Housewife” franchise. Are we perhaps reaching the point of over-saturation with reality shows about pretty people being awful to each other? Bravo has showcased iteration after iteration of this formula, and perhaps is now seeing diminishing returns — several of its programs have had a drop in viewership in recent years.
In fact, Cary says the cast members didn’t know they were a part of the “Housewives” chain until the show had nearly wrapped filming. They were initially told the show was focused on women of the city’s elite charity scene, with lavish events and big donors. Seemingly, the “Housewives” brand was too marketable to resist.
“It hasn’t been as torturous as I thought,” Cary says of watching the show. Like all cast-mates, she got a screener a few days before each episode aired so she could prepare blogs that rebutted whatever claims were thrown her way that week. Since she was squarely on the sidelines most of the season, she didn’t have to defend her character too frequently, and is proud of her overall portrayal.
“I just decided I’m going to be myself 100 percent so I wouldn’t have any regrets,” Cary says. “Pretty much, what you see is what you get with us.”
If nothing else, it will likely be good for the Deuber family’s surgical spa business, where they specialize in 24-hour breast augmentations. “The very next day you can be driving or up and walking around,” she beams. “People fly in from all over for it.”
She says that business was always good, and they didn’t see any meaningful uptick after the show debuted. If the Beverly Hills “Housewives” cast is any indicator, it could be very lucrative — two cast-mates’ plastic surgeon husbands landed their own show, “Botched,” on the E! network. And Dr. Mark Deuber, with his one-liners and affinity for spoiling Cary with large boxes from Roberto Cavalli, seems like good fodder for reality TV.
“We wanted to see where it would take us,” Cary says of the family’s decision to do the show.
But whether more time in the limelight is in the Deubers’ future remains to be seen. She hasn’t decided whether she’d sign on for another season of cattiness and couture.
“We’ll have to sit down and evaluate the positives and the negatives,” she says.
For now, she’s happy to get back to her business, her family, her charity work and her favorite Preston Hollow hangouts, without a camera crew. She hits up Meso Maya sometimes twice a week because it’s a favorite of her children, which include a 19-year-old stepson, 15-year-old stepdaughter and her 3-year-old daughter.
“What else? I love True Foods [Kitchen], TJ’s Seafood, oh, and the Gem, I could live off the food at the Gem,” she laughs. “They have $10 juices but whatever.”
When it comes to the seemingly endless stream of snark cast-mates faced in both the media and the message boards, Cary is not weighed down. She doesn’t think she, or the show, is meant to represent the City of Dallas, but is more about capturing a small slice of its colorful life.
“I mean, who does represent the women of Dallas?” she asks. “I went on to represent myself.”