by Holly Jaymes
She winced slightly. “Except that’s kind of how it started. But now…now I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“How does he feel?
“I don’t know. I think he’s like me and maybe he’s thinking there’s more to this than just fun and games, but we never really talk about it, so I don’t know. I suppose that’s why I wanted to take this trip with you. I need to figure out what’s going on and what I should do.”
“So, it’s possibly something serious?”
“I don’t know. I mean how does anyone know what is serious and what isn’t? Just look at Mom and Dad. They should’ve been serious and now they hate each other’s guts. How does that happen? Two people who swear they’ll love each other forever, they have a couple kids, and now they’d kill each other if they thought they could get away with it.”
I wasn’t sure my parents had murderous intentions toward each other, but there was no doubt that they didn’t like each other and in fact probably did hate each other.
“But look at Gran and Pop-Pop. They’ve been together forever. They’re still happily married,” she finished.
My brows narrowed as I wondered about that. Nadine was right. Why was it that some people came together and stayed together while others grew to hate each other?
“They like each other and respect each other. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for the other. I think most people aren’t willing to be that self-sacrificing for someone else," she continued. “I’m not sure I am. Are you?”
She turned to look at me for a response.
I nodded because to a certain extent, I did agree to her assessment about our grandparents. I thought it was sad that so many people could love somebody, but not enough to make personal sacrifices. I wasn’t sure my grandparents would describe it like that. They wouldn’t say they sacrificed anything for the other. Perhaps it was less about self-sacrifice and more about a total and complete commitment and devotion not just to the other person but also to what they made as a complete couple. I explained this idea to Nadine out loud, wondering what she thought.
She smirked at me. “If this acting thing doesn’t work out, you could become some kind of love philosopher.”
We arrived at our grandparents’ house and as we expected, as we needed, they doted on us. They fed us, lavished us with love, and when they realized we were being smothered, they gave us a moment alone in our room. Perhaps that was selfless love too. Not just to each other, but to us as well, as they seemed to know exactly what we needed when we needed it.
That night at dinner, they peppered us with questions about our lives in Manhattan, Nadine’s work in entertainment, and mine on my new movie set. My grandmother’s eyes sparkled as she asked questions about Theo Wolfe.
Nadine and I shared as much of the surface elements of our lives as we felt comfortable with. Neither of us delved too deep into our lives. In some ways I felt like I was betraying my grandparents by not being completely open with them about what was going on with me. When my parents split and I left the movie industry, both Nadine and I came up here to live with them. So they were more parents to us than our own parents were. I felt like I owed it to them to share myself with them in the same way they shared themselves with me. But I locked the part about Theo away in my heart for a reason. Opening it up would be like opening an old wound at this point and I didn’t want to experience that pain again
Disappointing Everyone
Theo
There was something different about knowing that Madeline wasn’t in the building and instead had left to go visit her grandparents. I hadn’t seen her for a while until today, so it was strange, the sudden and acute feeling of loss that was roiling in my gut.
I supposed before, I wasn’t seeing her, but she was in the building. If I couldn’t stand it any longer, I could go down to the eighth floor and find her. In fact, on several occasions I had nearly done that. The only thing that stopped me was concern about how a relationship with her might impact her career. Me? I was getting to the point of not giving a fuck about what people thought of me. But I didn’t want to do anything that could hurt her. So, I hadn’t gone down in desperation to see her. And now, alone in my penthouse on the twentieth floor where I couldn’t go down and see her, something about that made me feel worse.
I got a call from Blaine right after I arrived back, and apparently he’d seen the dailies from the work Madeline and I had done today. Like Corrine, he wondered what the hell had happened and then reminded me that I needed to keep my eye on the prize and my head in the game.
The problem was, each time I thought about the prize, I’d think about Madeline. But Blaine was right; I needed to keep my focus on this project. There was too much riding on it to let these crazy emotions get in the way of my success.
Since I was already feeling shitty, I decided to call home and check in on my parents. I tried to do so at least once a month because that was what sons should do. The fact that I did it out of obligation, I supposed, made me a terrible son. But in my defense, my parents hadn’t been the best, at least when it came to me.
My older brother, Oliver, was the golden son. The chosen one. There were times I tried to hate him for that, but fortunately for me, instead of gloating and rubbing it in, he did his best to look out for me. His little brother.
Sometimes I liked to call my parents to rub in my success despite my father’s claim that I was shiftless. My father would have been happier had I been a dismal failure, so he could say “I told you so” and then proceed to browbeat me into submission to his will.
I dialed their number and my mom picked up on the fourth ring, as she always did.
“Theo, what a surprise. How are you?” she asked.
I sat on the couch with a bourbon on the rocks. “I’m doing good, Mom.” That wasn’t the first lie I ever told her. And it wouldn’t be the last.
“We saw that you were seeing that child actress. Is it serious?”
I rolled my eyes. She made me sound like a pedophile.
“She’s co-starring in the film that my production company is making.” I was deliberate in mentioning that I had my own production company. I realized that it was my pathetic attempt to get my parents’ attention and approval. I really was messed up.
“Oh, that’s a disappointment. She’s so pretty. And she seems so grounded. I used to really like that TV show she did when she was a little kid. And if you two got married and had children, maybe they’d have red hair like hers.”
I wondered if I married Madeline and had redheaded kids, whether I would finally win the approval of my parents. See, I was pathetic.
“It’s not like that, Mom.” In some ways, their impression of me that I was always fucking my co-stars, was partly my fault. I never denied it when they would chastise me about it, mostly because I knew it made them crazy. The idea of having a playboy son whose womanizing ways ended up in the tabloids nearly made my father’s head explode. To him, I would never be respectable. Even if I left acting and became a lawyer or doctor like my brother, I was sure he’d never respect me.
In the background, I heard my father ask who was on the phone.
“It’s Theodore, dear. He says he’s not really seeing that woman we saw in the news. Such a disappointment, don’t you think?”
“I find that hard to believe,” I heard my father say. “The boy sleeps with anything with two legs and breasts.”
“Oh honey, don’t talk like that.” My mother wasn’t saying that to defend me from what my father said. She was saying it because she didn’t like that kind of language from him.
“Ask him if he’s heard about that award Oliver is up for,” my father said to her.
I took a long drink of my bourbon as I prepared myself to listen to my brother’s accolades. I wondered what they would do if I told them that Oliver was an even bigger horndog that I was. At least now that I’d somewhat reformed. I shook my head. They probably wouldn’t believe me.
“Yes, Theo, did you h
ear Oliver is up for an award? I can’t remember what it is called. But it’s quite prestigious. We’re so proud of him.”
“He didn’t mention it to me when I talked to him the other day.”
“Yes, well, you know he’s always so careful not to make you feel bad,” my mother explained.
Jesus Christ. I felt it said something about my parents that they didn’t realize just how close Oliver and I were. They tended to look at the world through their own lens, and therefore in their minds, Oliver thought about me and treated me the way they did; with utter disdain.
I’d long told myself that I didn’t give a shit about what my parents thought of me. At an early age, when I realized that there was probably nothing I could do to win their admiration, even if I went to law school or became a doctor, I decided I would go against the grain on purpose. So the majority of my childhood was me poking at them and earning the disdain that they had for me.
Some Midtown Manhattan shrink would have a field day deciphering all the dysfunction involved in that. He might even say that these regular calls were a sad attempt on my part to seek my parents’ approval. Because I was afraid that was true, I decided it was time to end the call.
“I have to go now. But I hope you’re both doing well.”
“No doubt there’s some call girl at the door,” I heard my father say.
I poked the off button.
The next day, I was second-guessing whether I should’ve made that call to my parents because as I walked onto the set, not only did I have the heavy feeling of disappointment about not being able to see Madeline, but heaped on top of it was the disapproval of my parents. Why couldn’t I let that go, at the very least?
Fortunately, today’s shoot didn't involve a whole lot of close-frame acting. Mostly we’d be filming filler shots of me walking or running; wide-view shots, so it didn’t really matter how I was feeling now.
Even so, when I was done and sitting in my trailer, drinking a bottle of water and trying to go over business notes but not having much luck giving them any attention, there was a knock on my door and Corrine stepped in, looking annoyed.
“You know, up until this week, I really thought we had a blockbuster movie that would garner at least 99% on Rotten Tomatoes.” She stood like a nagging mother with her hands on her hips as she looked down on me. “But after what I’ve seen this week. I’m wondering if you’re purposely trying to tank this movie. Maybe that article we read was true and now you and Madeline have had some kind of breakup and can’t stand to be around each other. If that’s the case, you have to suck it up, Theo. You’re an actor, so act like it.”
I massaged my forehead. “It’s not like that." It seemed like I was saying that a lot. Perhaps if I continued to say it over and over, I’d believe it too. I certainly wasn’t selling it very well because Corrine didn’t look like she bought one word of it.
She came in and took a seat at the little table in the trailer. “I don’t know what’s going on. Whatever it is, you need to put it right. Now, I wasn’t a big fan of the idea of you using your charm to schmooze and woo Madeline so that we could be sure to get the performance we wanted out of the both of you, but if that’s what it takes to get this movie back on track, you’ve got to start doing that again, Theo.”
Christ, we were back to that? I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t going to manipulate Madeline, and in fact I never really had. If anyone had been wooed had been me. From the minute I’d seen Madeline walking up the hall in that kick-ass leather skirt, she had bewitched me.
“I don’t need all the details about what is going on with you and her. I am not your shrink. But you need to figure out what is up and put it right. She’s off the schedule until midweek next week and you’re off until Monday. So maybe you and her need to get together and get your shit worked out.”
There was nothing I wanted more than to have a good excuse to run down to the eighth floor and get my shit right with Madeline. The problem was I couldn’t. And even if I could, I wasn’t sure what to do to get our shit right. What I wanted to do was to be able to see her and hold her again, but we both agreed that that just wasn’t a good idea.
Wanting to get Corrine off my back, I nodded. “I’ll be sure to take care of it. I promise. I’m as invested in this project as you are, Corrine.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Are you, Theo? Because this week, I’m not so sure.”
I jolted up to stand, now feeling angry. “I’ve got a lot riding on this. I don’t need you riding my ass. I hear what you’re saying and I will take care of it.”
She stood, waving her hands in a surrender position. “Fine, good. That’s all I need to know.” She tossed a couple of scripts on my table. “There’s some changes in here that you and Madeline need to go over. Make sure that when you guys come back next week, you’re on top of your game again.” With that, she turned and left my trailer.
I looked down at the scripts, not feeling very motivated to read them. I figured I could leave one with the manager of the building and he could arrange to deliver it to her. Or if her sister was home, I could leave it with her.
But then I had an idea. I picked up the scripts and carried them out to where my car was waiting. My driver drove me back to the condo and I went straight up to my room, packing an overnight bag and tossing the scripts on top. I hurried out to the garage and picked up my car to head out of Manhattan toward Woodstock.
I was following orders, I told myself. I’d go see Madeline and deliver the script and attempt to fix our shit. I had no idea what that meant, but I did know that I wanted it to include the ability to be with her again.
A Wolfe in the Woods
Madeline
I woke with a start in a pitch-black room. It took me a moment to realize where I was. Home. I was home in the room that I’d grown up in.
Feeling a sense of calm, I pulled the covers back over me and settled down back to sleep. When I woke again, sunlight was beaming into my room. I looked over at the old-fashioned alarm clock with hands and a bell on the top and saw that it was just after eight in the morning. I’d slept in and it felt so wonderful and decadent to be able to do that.
It also felt warm and cozy to wake up at home. I could smell coffee and bacon, and I knew my grandparents were up and preparing breakfast. The only little niggle of discomfort I felt was in missing Theo. I wondered what he would think of my grandparents and their place here in the middle of the woods.
In the short time I’d known him, I learned only a little bit about his childhood. I knew he grew up in a suburb of California to fairly wealthy parents. I knew he had an older brother who was a plastic surgeon. But my sense was that his family and childhood were topics that he didn’t like to talk about much. So I really didn’t know what it was like for him growing up.
For me, the time after I left New York at eleven, and Nadine and I moved in with our grandparents, felt very idealistic. It had given me a security and stability I hadn’t had before that.
I pushed the covers off and got out of bed, putting on my robe. I went to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Then I headed downstairs. It was the morning routine I’d had for years. There was some comfort in going through it again.
I found my grandmother in the kitchen, whipping up a bowl of something that looked suspiciously like pancake batter.
“Oh, good morning, Maddie. How are you this morning?” my grandmother asked me. She put the bowl down and came over to hug me. It was another one of those things that I loved and missed about being here. As a child, and even on my visits home, she never missed stopping whatever she was doing when I woke, to give me a hug.
“I slept in. So I feel really good.”
“I was beginning to think you were going to miss my very special pancakes for breakfast and have to skip right to lunch,” my grandfather said, entering the kitchen from the family room.
I went to him and gave him a hug as well. “I would
never miss your pancakes, pop.”
For them, everything was a partnership. She made the batter, he cooked it into pancakes. She shopped for groceries, together they emptied the car and he put them away.
“The coffee is brewed, if you want to grab a cup and go sit with your sister out in the sunroom while your grandfather and I finish breakfast,” my grandmother said.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want me to help you with?”
Both my grandparents shook their heads. “No. You’re home for rest, so you go enjoy the beautiful morning,” my grandmother said
I grabbed a cup of coffee and then I walked out to the sun porch where Nadine was also still in her jammies, tucked away into one of the chairs with coffee and looking out to the woods behind my grandparents’ home.
She looked up and smiled. “We really are spoiled here, aren’t we?”
I nodded and laughed as I sat in one of the other chairs and tucked my feet up underneath me. “We definitely are.”
“Do you think a part of their success is that they’re out here, away from all the craziness of the city? I mean, here, they can be themselves.”
I thought about what Nadine was saying. “I don’t know. Maybe.” It was an interesting thought. In New York, the city moved so quickly. And particularly in my line of work, nothing was real. After all, it was called acting. But even out in the real world, I had to maintain a certain type of look and attitude, which meant even when I wasn’t working, I was still acting. Still not truly myself.
“So, what do you think we should do today?” Nadine asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“I was thinking maybe we could go for a walk in the woods.”
“It’s going to be hot and humid here. If we’re going to do it, we should probably go soon before it’s too sticky hot.”
“Maybe we can take a walk to the pond and go swimming,” I suggested. That idea brought a flood of warmth inside me. It was another one of the things I loved about my childhood. It made me think that Nadine really was onto something about being able to be oneself up here at our grandparents’ house. When I was living here, I was just a kid living free and having fun. There were swims in the pond and even fishing. Sometimes Nadine and I would try to catch lightning bugs and keep them in a jar.