Chapter Four

Good morning! It's another bright sunny day in Houston. I'm at work, not writing, but I suppose it could be worse. At least they pay me here :) I still know all of my followers, but a high school friend of mine who is in marketing has offered to help me promote myself and my writing. I have high hopes that my 3 followers will soon blossom to unheard of proportions. Thanks, Adam, if you read this!

Last night was another unproductive night, but the excuse yesterday was 2nd grade orientation for my 7 year old. It was dull and repetitive and generally mind-numbing. I needed to go, though. First, I needed to explain to the teachers why my daughter will often come to school wearing make-up on Mondays. Elementary schools tend to frown on 2nd grade make-up, but Macey is a competitive cheerleader, which requires stage make-up. I've found that it's a good idea to communicate with the teachers prior to her getting sent home for breaking rules. See, look at me being proactive. Unfortunately, I also needed to explain to the teacher that my baby is still mourning the loss of a wonderful woman who was a motherly figure to her. Claudia died of breast cancer a little over 2 months ago. Macey still cries sometimes, and Claudia's own 7 year old (Macey's best friend) is in the same class as Macey. The teacher needed to understand that sometimes Macey might be sad and that sometimes Macey and Carley might talk about her Mother's death. Heavy stuff... Believe me, it's not fun to help your baby mourn.

On to happier stuff. Chapter 4. Well, happier than the end of my last paragraph. Actually, it's practically joyous in comparison. I hope everyone is enjoying the book so far. Let me know your thoughts via comments or email. My email link is in my profile.

Chapter 4

It was almost noon when I finally left my room. The sun shined brightly through the wispy white curtains that covered my window. Rather than getting up right away, I cuddled deep into the numerous pillows that surrounded me. I loved my bed and all its soft edges and colors. Mom had given me free reign and an unlimited budget a few years back. “Create your dream space, Kate,” she’d told me. And I did.
I started with a big canopy bed, added a thick mattress, and covered it all with a down comforter in shades of blue, pink, and white. A thick, cushioned chair and ottoman sat in one corner, upholstered in a fabric that matched my comforter. A large vanity sat in the other corner; a mirror on its wide top. The room was topped off with a dresser sporting a top of the line stereo system and a flat screen TV. It was perfect, and if I could have managed it, I doubt I would have ever left its peaceful sanctuary.
Today, especially, I wanted to hide.
The doorbell had rung indecently early. I refused to wake up though I knew what it meant. Mom’s script had been delivered. Right now, she’d be curled up on the couch reading it. Deciding my future.
Maybe if I hid long enough, the monsters invading my serene life would go away. A child’s dream was easy to believe here in my room. Everything would change once I stepped out the door. So I stayed and hid. At least I tried, but my body soon demanded I get up. It was having none of this nonsense. The day was late, and it had business to attend to.
A long shower helped extend my avoidance, as did the care I took in getting ready, far more than the lazy Saturday deserved. By the time I emerged from my room, I’d managed to kill another hour, but my stomach was growling anxiously. I bypassed the living room, avoiding Mom, and entered the kitchen from a back hall. My toast had just popped up from the toaster when mom called to me.
“Kate?? Are you finally up?” Mom’s voice was even. Its tone gave me no clues.
“I’m up, Mom.” I spread a thick layer of peanut butter on my toast, placed it on a plate, and grabbed a napkin prior to heading into the living room. I was going to need sustenance to get through this conversation. My feet dragged, and my legs felt like lead as I walked the short distance between the kitchen and the living room.
Mom was curled up on the couch, just like I’d expected. With her hair piled high on her head in a loose ponytail, short pajama outfit, and no makeup, she looked to be twelve years old rather than 42. It was obvious she had done little else but read since the early morning script delivery; the only evidence of movement was a half empty coffee cup in front of her.
I sat down next to her on the couch, cuddling into her side and laying my head on her shoulder. She looked up from the thick bound book in her hands. Her look, like her earlier words, was even.
“Well??” I said without lifting my head. I’d been a coward long enough. It was time to face my fears.
Her gaze finally lost its neutral look. The violet depths of her eyes sparkled with a restrained pleasure. “It doesn’t suck.”
I could do this. I needed to do this for Mom. My Mom was everything to me; she did everything for me. It was time, after sixteen years of giving, for her to receive something.
“It’s great Kate. Perfect. Amazing! They want me on location next week if I’m interested. The director left this change to the last minute. Pre-production is almost over, and they’re getting ready to start shooting. The studio is going crazy.” Mom pulled away from my embrace, gently pushing my head off her shoulder. She stood up and began to pace in front of the living room window.
“Next week,” I echoed. I grabbed my toast, shoving a huge bite in my mouth to stifle the groan threatening to burst out. Next week. How could I say goodbye to everyone in a week.
“Next week. They need me in Texas right away for the three months of location work. We’ll be shooting in the Gulf of Mexico and around the oil refineries. That’ll be followed by another couple months in LA.” Mom stopped her pacing to stare out the window and across the street to Mrs. McDaniel’s house, so lost in thought I doubted she actually saw anything. Her mind was already in Hollywood, already lost in the world of her youth.
“Three months in Texas. All summer.” Another bite of toast followed the words to occupy my mouth once again. I didn’t want to ruin my strong supportive act now. Mom didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes. It’s perfect timing. You could spend the summer with me in Houston. You haven’t been to Texas since you were a baby. It’s a shame you never got to spend time there. You’ll love it. Come fall, you can come back and stay with your Dad. I’ll have to get Pam some help at Chic, but I’m sure she’ll be able to handle it.” Mom had obviously worked out the logistics in her mind while I slept.
I wasn’t so sure I agreed with her assessment of time in Texas. The Minnesotan in me had visions of cowboys riding through the streets on horses. Mom’s parents, Grandma and Grandpa Brown, had died before I could even walk. I hadn’t visited the state since their funeral.
“So you’ll call Peter and tell him you’re in?” My voice finally broke. No amount of toast could keep it calm.
“How can I tell him that, Kate? It’ll change our whole lives. Even when you return, it’ll never be the same. I always wanted to give you a normal life. This will ruin all my best intentions.” For a moment she looked at me with such uncertainty that it felt as if I were the mother and she the child.
She was right. She’d always tried to keep my life normal – exceptionally normal. But in the end, could I ask her to give up her dreams? Could any of us throw away what was so badly wanted? In the long run, despite our good intentions, the deepest of our desires always surfaced.
“You tell him yes because you can and will. You deserve it Mom. We’ll make it work.” My voice settled, gaining confidence and conviction.
“Are you sure, Kate? This is your decision. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. You’re the most important thing in my world. You come first.”
But it wasn’t my decision, not really. I was old enough to realize there wasn’t actually a decision to make. This was about Mom and my love for her. This was about doing the right thing.
“Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be fun. A three month vacation. I can’t wait.” I uttered the lie without blinking.
Suddenly, Mom’s whole demeanor changed. Her previously stiff shoulders visibly relaxed, her face lightened, the lines of stress disappeared, and a huge smile spread across her face. “Oh my goodness, Kate! We’ll have the best time!! Houston is amazing! It’ll be fantastic to be back in Texas. I haven’t been there in years! Houston is cosmopolitan – in a southern sort of way. And wait until you see the stores! With all the oil money, there’s a ton of great shopping. You’ll need new clothes, of course. Lots of them. Bridgette Broucheriou’s daughter has to have the best!” Bridgette Broucherious’s daughter? I suppose I would be. Bridgette Swanson would disappear, wouldn’t she?
Mom continued, practically vibrating with excitement, “A new car too. You can’t drive your ugly sedan in Houston. We’ll sightsee and eat at the best restaurants. You can learn all about making movies. It’s fascinating! Oh, just wait until you find out who the rest of the cast is; you’ll DIE! It’ll be the best summer vacation ever.”
Before I could respond, Mom ran over and pulled into a huge hug. I pasted a smile on my face and joined Mom’s celebration. Although I wasn’t entirely convinced, I wouldn’t let her see my doubts. This was her time. I couldn’t ruin it.
And, well, when explained that way, it didn’t sound all bad. There could be benefits. A new car. New clothes. Celebrities (real ones – Mom didn’t count!). Nice! I could live like that. It would only be three months… I could live that long without Erik and Melanie. I could live that long without Dad.
Maybe it would be fine. Maybe I could survive.
When Mom calmed herself down enough to speak rationally, she called Peter. Saturday or not, he was excited to hear from her. While Mom talked, she started pacing again. Now that the decision had been made, she seemed nervous. I wasn’t sure if it was more about the prospect of re-launching a long dead career or the upcoming task of telling Dad. My vote was on Dad. He was unlikely to take this well.
After hanging up with Peter, she muttered something about pulling the bandage off quickly and dialed Dad’s number. Without telling him why, she invited us over to the farmhouse for dinner. He seemed a bit puzzled by Mom’s sudden desire to visit the farm but, in true hospitable Minnesota fashion, didn’t questioned her motives. I knew Dad would be wondering what was up. Although they’d stayed friendly after the divorce, my parents didn’t exactly hang out.
I opted for the coward’s way out and sent Erik a text message to cancel our standing Saturday night date. It wasn’t unusual for us to not speak on a Saturday until late in the day. Erik typically helped his dad around the farm on Saturday and that meant he was completely tied up until it was nearly time to come get me. I could have called and asked his Mom to find him if I wanted to cancel in person, but I didn’t really want to hear his voice. Right now, I couldn’t risk my reaction if we talked. There was no way I could have kept myself from blurting out my news. Dad deserved to be the first to know.
First things first. Telling Dad was going to be hard enough.
Melanie was a harder to avoid. It was extremely odd for us not to be together on Saturday. I faked a cold (Cough! Cough!) when she called to suggest we head into Mankato for the southern Minnesota version of high fashion shopping at the River Hills Mall. Any other Saturday, I would have jumped at the idea. Not today.
Then, with my evasions complete, I escaped to the blue and pink confines of my bedroom to contemplate the surprisingly pleasant concept of my self-imposed Texas exile. Before I knew it, the day was gone, and Mom’s little sports car was bouncing down the rough country roads towards Dad’s farm.
Before the birth of the incredible screeching machine, dinner at Dad’s had always been fun. In addition to the fantastic food (Laura, like Grandma before her, was an excellent cook.), dinner was a chance to spend some dedicated quality time with Dad. Unfortunately, Matthew’s birth seriously cut into that time. It was truly amazing how much time a baby took! At least the food was still good.
“Waaaaaaaaah!!!!” The melodic sounds of Matthew’s voice greeted me when I entered the house.
“Hey, hon,” Dad reached out to give me a one armed hug. I reluctantly returned his casual embrace, being careful to stay away from the thin line of drool dripping down the baby’s face.
“Hey, Dad. Hey, Matt.” I gingerly patted the baby’s head – the only safe place to touch since poop, puke, and drool didn’t typically make it to the top of his bald head.
“It’s Matthew, Kate,” Laura said, walking up behind me and quickly squeezing my shoulder in greeting. Laura was obsessive about her precious bundle of joy’s name. No nickname was good enough for Matthew Swanson.
“Sorry, Laura.” I smiled at Laura and wondered once again what Dad saw in her. Her pudgy body was covered in loose jeans and a baggy t-shirt. Sure, Matthew had only been born last month, but….. I remember seeing pictures of Mom one month after my birth, and she hadn’t looked like she was still pregnant.
“It’s no problem, Kate. You just can’t be too careful with someone’s name, you know? I wouldn’t want him to sound too common. Matthew Swanson is the name of a strong, virile man. Matt Swanson works at a fast food place. You know what I mean.” She looked at me earnestly, as if she thought I might have an opinion.
“Absolutely, Laura. I know what you mean.” I didn’t. Honestly, who cared?
I could feel Mom come up behind me during this exchange, her beauty almost a physical force in this small space, especially when compared to Laura’s plainness.
Rather than joining the conversation, she turned to Dad. “Thanks, David, for inviting us out tonight.” Inviting us out? Not from the conversation I’d heard. She was either warming up her acting skills or hoping Dad would forget the obvious fact that there was a purpose behind our self-invitation. Of course, when paired with her smile and a light kiss on the cheek, even Dad, who’d lived nearly seven years with Mom and knew most of her tricks, seemed to forget he hadn’t invited us.
The house was filled with the smell of Laura’s roast, combined with sweet scent of apple pie, causing my mouth to salivate. Laura took Matthew from Dad and turning to Mom and me, announced, “Dinner’s ready,”
It wasn’t until I devoured nearly half the roast that I remembered the news Mom and I were going to give Dad. After that, my appetite completely disappeared. While it could have been that I’d eaten half my body weight in beef, I attributed my sudden lack of desire for desert to nerves.
Barely touching her apple pie, Mom seemed to agree. She waited until after Laura placed a steaming pot of coffee in the middle of the table to bring up the real reason for our visit.
“So, David. Peter Jenkins called me Friday,” Mom casually stated. Dad’s eyes widened. His expression was an imitation of my own when I first heard about Peter Jenkins’ call.
“Peter.” His voice was sharp. His usually friendly expression was replaced by wariness. Dad might be a farmer, but he wasn’t stupid. Peter Jenkins wouldn’t have called Mom if he didn’t have a good reason. Especially after all these years.
“They’ve made some changes in direction for the sequel to Midnight’s Dawn,” Mom said.
Dad’s expression grew more wary. The words Midnight’s Dawn had even more significance to him than they did for me. “How does that affect you? They were supposed to have that troublemaking tart Savannah Sears play Anna.”
Savannah Sears was definitely known to be a troublemaker. Tall with long blond hair and more curves than strictly required, it wasn’t at all unusual to see her beautiful face splashed across the tabloids, usually associated with some sort of scandel. Guys, drinking, fights with the paparazzi, it didn’t matter; if it involved trouble, Savannah Sears was usually there. Although her behavior was scandalous, the public saw it as part of her charm. She was wildly popular, and at eighteen, she’d been the original choice to play Anna in Midnight’s Dawn’s sequel.
“The director has decided to change direction. He wants the old cast back. Savannah’s been re-cast as Anna’s daughter,” she paused. Her casual expression morphed into a mixture of hesitance and expectation. “Kyle’s already agreed to reprise the role of Jake.”
Dad’s wary face darkened, turning stormy.
Kyle had been Mom’s boyfriend when Dad and Mom first met. Though Mom broke off with Kyle before she and Dad started dating, Dad had never liked Kyle. I found it sort of amusing that, after all these years and a divorce, the thought of Kyle Thomas still made Dad mad.
I, on the other hand, was stuck on the fact that I’d get to meet Savannah Sears. Cool!
“They want you back.” Dad stated the fact bluntly.
“They want me back,” Mom responded, just as bluntly. I could tell Dad’s attitude was starting to bother her.
“And?” For a moment, I could see the resentment of lost dreams in Dad’s eyes. It wasn’t often I remembered that life on the farm wasn’t the one Dad originally wanted. At one time, Dad’s dreams were bigger.
“I’m going, David. I have to. I want to.” Mom’s words were unapologetic. Self-sacrificing or not, I could tell she wasn’t going to allow her ex-husband’s attitude to make her feel guilty.
“What about Kate?” Dad first glared at Mom then glanced over at me. I could tell he was waiting for me to throw a fit.
“Kate thinks Mom should do it,” I said. Dad’s attitude was beginning to make me mad too. Kate could speak for herself.
Dad ignored me. “Well I guess she can come and live here. We’ll have to move the baby into our room, but we’ll make it work.”
What?!
“Kate’s coming with me David. At least for the summer,” Mom said, glancing at Laura’s reluctant face while she did so. It was painfully obvious that a teenage step-daughter didn’t fit into her plans for a happy little household.
“I’m going with Mom, Dad. When school starts, I’ll come back and live in town.” Not that I’d run that part of the idea past Mom, but it sounded good to me. I’d be seventeen by then. No way was I moving in with Dad, Laura, and the drooling monster.
“Kathryn Swanson, you will live exactly where I tell you to. Do you know what it’s like out there? Do you know how they’ll eat you up? It’s not like Mapleton. Your Mom’s life will destroy you.” Dad’s face turned a scary shade of red.
Mom and I stood up at the same time.
“I believe Mom has first say in where I live. You might want to remember that before you TELL me anything.” How dare he! As if he’d ever bothered to direct my life in any way. That was Mom’s job. It was always the farm or Grandma or anything besides me. Now it was Laura and Matthew. I could feel all the long buried resentment bubble to the surface.
“Good God, David! Are you ever going to get over the past?! None of us can change what is done.” Mom’s angry words blasted out at the same time as mine. She visibly blanched as she watched Dad turn from red to white. She was right. Dad never recovered from Hollywood’s rejection. It just never occurred to me she would say the words out loud.
“Mom and you have raised me well enough to survive wherever I am. I’m disappointed you have so little faith in me, Dad.” I headed towards the front of the house. Mom followed.
I could hear Dad call my name as I opened the front door. As I stepped onto the front porch, I heard Matthew’s cry and knew that Dad wouldn’t follow. Matthew needed him. The fact that I was hurt and suffering would have to wait. He had other, more important things to attend to.

© 2008 - 2009 Elizabeth Johnson