Fast Glamour - Part 10
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Part 10

"Because, sister dear, the only person that Kiley Kepner hates more than you and me is her ex-husband, who absolutely doesn't want this film made. The enemy of your enemy is your friend and right now, you and me with The Lady's Regret are definitely in opposition to Dad."

"Kiley is using our film and this role to mete out her revenge on Dad," Amanda said. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "This is a Shakespearean tragedy waiting to happen." She turned her gaze toward me. "I've always pictured Mom in that role and if the choice is between the film never getting made and Kiley playing the role written for Mom, then Sterling, I have to say let Tom destroy the script. I won't even be able to watch the film with Kiley in Mom's role." Amanda rubbed water up and down her arms. "Plus, if we let Kiley play that role? Daddy is already p.i.s.sed that we're pursuing the film; he'd blow a gasket if we put Kiley in Mom's role. The ink on the divorce decree is barely dry."

"They were married for, like, three months."

"Right, and in those three months do you recall all the things she did to me and to Daddy, not to mention Lane and even you? This is not the woman I want in the role that I've always pictured Mom playing. We both own half of the option and I don't want Kiley to play this role."

Dread thickened in my chest. We were running out of time and actresses. "If Tom would give us more time." My gaze drifted over my shoulder to Rhiannon who sat silently behind me. "Would you ask your father?"

"I will," Rhiannon said. "I'll call him in the morning."

"It's after noon in Dublin," Maeve said. "He'll already be three pints in and you want a sober Tom Bliss for this conversation."

"I can tell you both from the way Papa talks about The Lady's Regret, he's not inclined to give you more time," Rhiannon said. "He blames The Lady's Regret for most of the bad things that have happened in his life." Rhiannon's lips were pulled down at the corners. "He thinks the script is cursed."

I frowned. "Why does everyone think this script is cursed?" I looked from Rhiannon to Maeve and back to Rhiannon. "Don't tell me you believe it, too? That The Lady's Regret is never meant to be made?"

"I don't know about cursed, Sterling, but I do know that some bad things have happened to people involved with the project. I mean, just look at our two families."

Unlike everyone else, I'd disconnected the script from the events of that summer. The Lady's Regret was actually finished before Mom had been diagnosed. The fighting had escalated and the separation of our parents had happened immediately after the script was completed. Tom and Gayle separated soon after Mom and Tom returned from Montecito, and Dad moved out of the house until we found out Mom was sick.

My gaze flashed up and I caught Rhiannon's eyes. A shadow slipped across her face. Did she know why Gayle and Tom and Dad hated this script so much? A question formed in my mind-a question that I didn't want to ask.

Chapter 14.

Rhiannon.

"You're leaving your family, for her?" Mama stood in the hallway just outside her and Papa's bedroom. She hugged her torso. While there were no tears, a horrible sadness claimed her face. Maeve and I had been banished down the hall to our room, but the house carried sound. We both sat in the hall and listened as our parent's marriage came to an end.

"I'm not choosing Joanne over them, or even over you."

"That's a laugh." Bitterness wove through Mama's voice. "You know she won't love you. She can't love anyone. She's much too damaged to love."

Papa's shadow flashed backward and forward across the white wall as he packed his bag.

"She may be damaged, but at least she needs me."

"Needs you? What the h.e.l.l does that mean? We've been married for nearly twenty years. How can you think...? We need you. The girls need you. Even I..." Her voice trailed off into nothingness.

"You can't even say it, can you, Gayle? You've not needed me for years now. You see me as another child to feed and clothe and take care of. When did I stop being the man you married and loved and, instead, became the boy you took care of?"

"I guess when you stopped being a husband. How many years has that been?"

"Far too many," Papa said. His footsteps thudded through their room and we heard the slam of a drawer in their bathroom. The soft sounds of Mama's crying filtered down the halls. Maeve scooted closer to me and pressed her face to my shoulder. Her hot tears soaked through my shirt.

"Gayle." His voice was softer. His anger gone. "I can't stay. I can't be here with you any longer. It's not that I want Joanne more, or even love her; it's simply that I no longer love you. At least not the way you deserve to be loved."

Thwapp.

The sound of a hand striking a cheek came down the hall. I jumped and Maeve pressed her face harder into my shoulder. A mewling sound like a scared kitten came from Maeve. I rested my hand on her head.

"You f.u.c.ked her. You f.u.c.ked my best friend. How? How could you do that to me, to us, to this family? You've destroyed everything because of your own midlife crisis. Because some lovely little bauble of Steve Legend's felt alone and abused. You know what you are to her, don't you? You are nothing but a mechanism for revenge. Revenge for the public affair, revenge for all the b.a.s.t.a.r.d children she's discovered. Do you think you're the first one? The only one? I am her best friend. I know about all of her dalliances."

The snap of a suitcase being closed. My father's steps thundering toward the hall.

"You're not the only one, Thomas," Mama called. She stood in the hall, her face a mask of sadness and tears. "You'll never be the only one for Joanne. Don't even dare to think that you can be."

He paused in the front room. His gaze wandered down the hall and caught with mine. His anger slid to pain. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Maeve sobbed on my shoulder. I turned to her and put my arm round her. Papa had ruined our family. He had destroyed what we thought to be ours-a family with a mother and a father and happiness and joy. Amanda's mother had taken Papa from us. I clutched Maeve as she cried.

"Make them stop, Rhiannon, oh please make them stop," she begged through choked sobs and tears.

I turned back to where Papa stood, but he was already gone.

"Rhiannon!" My shoulder shook. "Rhiannon, wake up."

My eyes fluttered open. Maeve stood bent over me as I lay in my bed.

"You were crying and thrashing. You were having a bad dream."

In the darkness my eyes focused. The moon cast a silver light into our shared childhood room.

"Are you okay?"

"I was dreaming about when Papa left."

Maeve sat on my bed. "I remember that night. It sucked."

A smile crept across my face. I adored my little sister. She was so honest and so in the moment. She did not ruminate or worry, she simply rushed through life with a joy-filled speed collecting new experiences. Sometimes I wished I could be more like her.

"I don't think what happened between Papa and Joanne is what frightens me," I said. "I think it's also Steve, and what he did and what he continues to do. He's been married four times since Joanne died." I turned my head and looked at Maeve as she slid back into her own bed and cuddled up under her sheets. "And I know Sterling and Amanda have no idea about Sophia, Ellen, and Rhett."

"Oooooh," Maeve said and pressed her finger to her lips. "Shhh, you're going to get in very deep trouble for mentioning those-who-must-never-be-named."

"Right. So those are a load of secrets we've kept from Amanda and Sterling." I turned toward my sister. "Not really the best foundation for a relationship."

"Those aren't the reasons," Maeve said. She flipped onto her back. "You're scared."

"What?"

"You're scared. You don't want to fall that much in love and then have it ripped away because Sterling can't keep it in his pants." She looked over at me. "I mean the inability to be faithful destroyed Steve's marriage and Papa's. That's what you're afraid of."

"Mama and Papa would be furious if I ended up with Sterling. You should have seen Mama the morning after Sterling was here. She was nosy and judgmental and worried."

"Don't let her fool you, you're going to get those reactions no matter who you're with. She's just as worried as you are. Think about it, her best friend of thirty years slept with her husband, destroyed her marriage, and then practically died a saint. Then Mama stays here to make sure that that friend's children don't end up drug-addled or suicidal. I mean, Mama is a bit of a martyr."

"Seems as if you've gotten all our familial dysfunction sorted out while you've been traveling."

"Ha!" Maeve said. "That's a laugh. I can look at everyone else and think I know how to fix them but, as for me?" She glanced up at me and I saw that her lips were pulled down. "As for me, I'm as messed up as the rest."

"Well, little sister, at least you've got company." I picked up my cell phone from the nightstand and flipped it over. It was still early in Los Angeles, but it was early afternoon in Dublin. I tossed back my covers. If I could catch Papa before he left for the pub I had a much better shot of reasoning with him when it came to The Lady's Regret.

I wasn't holding much hope that Papa would change his mind. I'd heard him rail on and on about the script. Once Joanne died he believed the script should have been destroyed because he thought no other woman could, or should, ever play the part he'd written for her. I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. Mama was an early riser. She liked to paint early in the morning, but there was no sign of her today. I made a cup of tea, grabbed a blanket, and went out the front door. Once I was settled in the porch swing I dialed Papa's number.

"Rhiannon!" His voice was happy and light. "What a surprise." He must have had a good morning with his writing. He didn't sound nearly as cheery when things weren't going well.

"Papa, you sound so happy. I love to hear you happy."

He laughed a deep and hearty chuckle. "News of your art show traveled all the way to Dublin, my love. I hear you were a spectacular success."

"Oh, Papa, thank you."

"I'm proud of you, my girl. You know that, yes?"

"Yes, Papa, I do." I pulled my blanket closer to me. We talked about Dublin and Los Angeles, and Maeve's arrival. We discussed my newest series and how I felt stuck in my painting. He reminded me that art couldn't be forced and that it would come when it was good and ready and not necessarily on my schedule. His jovial and kind words buoyed me. But a tingling went through my fingers and my chest grew tight when our conversation was drawing to a natural close. I had to ask him about The Lady's Regret now or not ask at all.

"Papa, there was something else. Another reason that I called."

"What is it my darling? You know I'd do anything for you, my love."

"It's about The Lady's Regret."

There was silence. I could feel the shift in my father's energy from thousands of miles away. It was as though a dark thunderhead had rolled over the sun.

"Anything but that," he said. His tone was clipped and short. "Did that d.a.m.ned devil Steve Legend put you up to calling?"

"Papa, it's not Steve who has the script. It's Sterling and Amanda," I said.

"Half-sp.a.w.n of the devil," he muttered. "There was a reason your Mama and I let you leave Los Angeles when you did and it wasn't just because of me. You do know, don't you my love, that apples don't fall far from the tree that bore them. Sterling is his father's son."

The hypocrisy of my father's words. .h.i.t me in the chest. He too had strayed in his relationship with Mama, and yet, I could not say those words to him.

"Papa, Sterling and Amanda aren't just Steve's children." My half-spoken point of fact caused more silence from my father. I knew that Papa had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with Joanne Legend. Whether Joanne returned his love, I had no idea. I wondered if Mama wasn't right, that Joanne was too deeply damaged to love anyone.

"Rhiannon, the script was written for one person."

"The same person who left the option to her children."

"Children who have no idea what the script means or meant to me and to their mother. The time for the project has pa.s.sed."

"Papa, they have a director, they have the financing, they have an actress and they simply wonder if you'd give them more time."

"What a coward," Papa spat out. "To have you call me. Sterling is a worthless cur of a man. He is just like his father."

My heart hurt to hear my father speak so harshly about Sterling. "Papa, I'm the one who offered to call you. I offered yesterday when they were discussing the project. It's such a beautiful project."

"For those who didn't experience the torture that came with its creation, perhaps," Papa said. His tone was soft, but filled with pain. "The option's not yet run out. They've got time to get into production. If they can't get The Lady's Regret into production before the option lapses then the project is to be finished. I'm sorry, Rhiannon, I've no desire to see the project on the screen."

"Papa-"

"Rhiannon, I won't change my mind, not even for you, and I definitely won't change my mind for Sterling Legend either. That boy is not good enough for the likes of you. Remember, my love, remember what you saw and what you know; a man usually follows in the steps of his father. I don't wish that kind of heartache on you, my girl."

"I love you, Papa," I said. I didn't want to fight with him. I wouldn't get anywhere by arguing with him. Once Papa made up his mind he was an Irish kind of stubborn.

"My love to you as well," Papa said. "Good luck with the art. Come home to see me soon. I miss you."

"And me, as well." I clicked the off b.u.t.ton on my phone. The call had gone as I'd expected. Papa gave me a solid no on the extension of the option that Sterling and Amanda wanted. If they wanted to make The Lady's Regret, they'd have to be in production in the next six weeks.

Papa's other words, the things that he'd said about Sterling, hurt my heart. My back pressed into the wooden slats of the porch swing. I tucked my feet up onto the seat and wrapped my arms around my shins. Was Sterling just like his father? Was it impossible for him to commit to one woman? And why did I care? How had I gone, in a matter of weeks, from being completely sure that nothing would happen between Sterling and me to now contemplating his ability to be part of a monogamous couple?

Was Maeve right? Was I using the past to try and halt my love for Sterling? Panic and uncertainty washed through me. There were so many things that Sterling didn't know about his family and mine. If I wanted to be with Sterling, I had to tell him about Joanne and Papa and Sophia, Ellen, and Rhett.

"How is your father?"

Mama stood just inside the front door with a cup in her hand. She blew on her coffee and walked toward me. I lifted my shoulder and shrugged. Uncomfortable anxiousness drifted through me when discussing one parent with the other. Even in the most innocuous of circ.u.mstances.

"He seems well," I said. "He sounds as if his work is good right now."

Mama settled onto the porch swing beside me. "He's always content when the work goes well. I remember those times as his happiest."

I looked out at the open expanse of the front yard. Gra.s.s kept green by sprinklers sloped into an oval hill.

"Does he share my thoughts on The Lady's Regret?"

"I don't know what your thoughts are," I said. My tone was sharp. Sharper than what I usually used when speaking with Mama.

"Really? Am I that obscure? I would have thought there was great clarity regarding my feelings for that script."

"It wasn't the script that destroyed your marriage."

A sharp intake of breath came from Mama. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together.

"No," Mama said, "it wasn't. Nor was it my best friend sleeping with my husband. Unfortunately, after seven years of hindsight, I should have seen the freight train headed my way. If it hadn't been Joanne it would have been someone else."

"Don't say that about Papa."

"It's not your father's fault, alone. Any marriage requires two people to kill it."

Cool morning air rushed into my lungs. A hard feeling clamped within my chest. I didn't want to discuss my parents' separation. I did not want to discuss either their now-extinct marital relationship, or the flaws of that relationship. Mama had spent seven years ruminating about that here in the safety of the top of her hill. I'd simply wanted to check with Papa about the option on The Lady's Regret. That's all.

"What does he think of you seeing Sterling?"

"I'm not seeing Sterling," I said. Again, that harsh tone. The tone that sounded like me at fifteen.