Turn for Home

by Lara Zielinsky

  Brenna rose quickly and swept her sons into a hard hug, one boy in each arm. She kissed both boys on the cheek before pulling back. "What on earth are you doing here?"

  "Well," Thomas started, "we haven't seen you in almost two days. I thought we should." He held up his bus pass. "So, after school we got on the Transit."

  Brenna hugged and kissed him again.

  "Besides," James added wryly, "there seem to be fifteen zillion reporters who figured out where we live." He looked around. "They can't come up here, right?"

  "Oh no." Brenna brushed her fingers over James' cheek. "I'm sorry." She urged the boys closer to Cassidy's bedside. "What did they say to you?"

  "'What's it like to have a gay mom?' 'Did she date anyone before this?' And, 'What do you think of Ms. Hyland?'" James shrugged. "You know — the usual stuff."

  The usual stuff? She was surprised by his nonchalance. "What did you say?"

  James studied Cassidy for a long moment before he answered. "I haven't had one long enough to know. Yeah, guys. And, Ms. Hyland's better 'n all of 'em."

  "You are amazing." Brenna shook her head in disbelief.

  He shrugged again. "No. Man, you are. Mom, I saw the news. That man is enormous, and you just attacked him?" The unspoken "I'm impressed" was clear in James' voice.

  "You saw Mitch on the news?" Brenna asked.

  "Yeah. He was arraigned this morning. Battery. He was given a fifty thousand dollar bond and a court date next month."

  "He's out of jail?" Brenna's voice conveyed the same alarm Cassidy felt. "Only battery!"

  Thomas nodded. "Actually, I...we thought you should know. The police came by as a courtesy to report that he made some threats against you during his release."

  "Then why isn't he still behind bars?" Brenna asked.

  "Apparently making a threat isn't sufficient grounds. You have to go down and press stalking charges before they'll take him in again."

  Cassidy watched Brenna sit down hard, hand covering her mouth, her eyes pained. Supportively she squeezed her hand, frustrated the bandage prevented full contact. She cursed Mitch for the shivers she felt from Brenna.

  So focused on Brenna, it took Cassidy another minute to feel Thomas' scrutiny. "Yes?"

  "What exactly happened? Are you going to be all right?"

  "Your mom probably knows more details, but I can tell you I hurt pretty much everywhere." Energized by the concern of people she knew cared, Cassidy tried to shift herself up so she could talk more normally.

  Brenna's hands were abruptly on her shoulders. "You better stop moving so much," she chided, easing her back down again. She reached up and pulled Ryan into her arms from the chair. "Come on. Why don't we all go and let Cassidy sleep?"

  "Bren, wait." Cassidy turned to the boys. "You go on ahead. She'll be right there."

  "What's up?" Brenna asked, leaning close as Cassidy looked up. She could see the shadow of the other woman's attempts to cover her anxiety.

  "Please be careful," Cassidy urged. "Mitch is resourceful."

  "I'm going to call the studio and request a security detail for you."

  "Not me, you. Bren. The news reports...he knows where you live." She gestured toward the silent TV on the opposite wall. Brenna looked up. They both saw the tag line at the same time: KTLA News. Live. The neighborhood's welcome sign was clear in the background.

  "Thank God, Thomas and James came here," Brenna breathed.

  The captioning revealed the rest of Don Deering's story:

  "Fantasy took a turn into reality as colleagues became lovers. Ex-husbands, ex-boyfriends, even neighbors and friends are stunned as two stars emerge from the closet."

  Deering had obviously done some digging. Cassidy recognized footage from interview sessions the Pinnacle PR department wouldn't have approved for print, of her and Brenna answering questions, standing casually, even intimately close. Deering had also covered Ryan going missing at the Sports Warehouse. Video rolled of the women and their sons in the parking lot after the ordeal.

  "Was this the beginning?" the caption read.

  More recent video followed. For the first time, Cassidy saw the pandemonium surrounding Mitch's attack. The playback froze on a shot of Cassidy's untreated, battered face and Brenna holding her bruised hand just at the edge of the frame.

  "Will this be the end?"

  Deering concluded his sensationalist report with a few actual facts, notably their public roles and respective ages.

  Brenna groaned. Cassidy brushed her fingertips through the woman's soft hair as Brenna lowered her head. Cassidy whispered, "It doesn't matter to me. I love you."

  Despite the bandages and the pin in her jaw, Cassidy judged the tender kiss more than passable. She murmured her appreciation before Brenna pulled away.

  Deeply affected, the other woman's voice trembled. "Think you can stay out of trouble until I come back?"

  "When?"

  "After I've gotten the boys in bed. I don't think I could fall asleep knowing you're here alone."

  "Don't," Cassidy said. "Call Rachelle or Terry. Go to a hotel. Don't go home, Bren, please. Not with Mitch out there."

  "He can't scare us if we don't allow it."

  "He's not content with just scaring anymore."

  Brenna's expression as she nodded told Cassidy she had accepted the warning.

  "All right. I'll talk with someone at the lot tonight." She kissed Cassidy's forehead lightly.

  Cassidy let the tears from her physical pain fall quietly as she watched Brenna leave with their three boys. Closing her eyes, she adjusted the covers and tried to sleep, despite the worry plaguing her.

  Chapter 17

  Despite the hot afternoon sun, the boulevard that led to Pinnacle's gated entrance was thronged on both sides by picketers. Brenna's Mountaineer crept carefully through the surging crowd and the microphone-waving reporters. Waved to a stop at the guardhouse, she rolled down her window, making the previously unintelligible din clearer and revealing both support and condemnation. Unable to completely ignore the menagerie, Brenna stole a glance to the left, where, from the positive tenor of their signs, the pro camp was gathered. Many shot her a thumbs up and pumped their fists in the air. Signs waved back and forth proclaiming "Grrl Power" and "Lanigan-Hyland: Pinnacle's New Power Duo". There were also "Get Well Soon, Cassidy" and "Best Wishes" placards.

  An explosive noise went off behind the Mountaineer, making Brenna jump. Looking in the rear view mirror, she saw a protester running away toward the sea of signs decrying her, Cassidy, and the studio. Sentiments such as "God Decrees Time Trails Time is Up" and "No Gay Jakes" were waved at her. More damning and personal were "Play Gay — Play Dead", and Brenna fumed at the most hateful sign: "Mitch Hyland should finish the job".

  "Are the writers planning to write this into the show?"

  Brenna turned away from the signs and looked at her younger son.

  "No. As a matter of fact, we just did an episode where Hanssen imagines a relationship with Raycreek."

  "That's nuts," Thomas said. "Raycreek and Hanssen hardly talk."

  "I thought you didn't watch the show," she teased.

  He shrugged sheepishly. "I've caught it a few times. Enough to know that storyline definitely doesn't fit the characters."

  "Cassidy agreed with you. She asked to rework some of the script and turned it into a delirium. She turned in a very good performance." Brenna held up a hand as the guard came to the window. "What was it?"

  "Firecrackers and pop caps, but nothing up your tailpipe. Go on ahead."

  "Thanks, Randy. Do you know where Victor Branch is right now?"

  "He's been in the main offices with a lot of the production team all day."

  She reached out and patted the guard's shoulder. "Thanks. You have a good day."

  "When you see Ms. Hyland next, tell her we're pulling for her." Brenna smiled. "You be careful too, ma'am."

  Brenna checked her rearview one last time then drove through the opened gate. She
guided the car into the authorized vehicles lot, pleased to see a blue-clad officer riding up and down the parking lanes in a golf cart. Security had obviously stepped up since the attack.

  Should've been better before, she thought angrily.

  "Time to find out how everyone else feels about recent developments," she said, mentally girding herself for the executives' questions. "Stick close, guys," she advised the boys.

  Holding Ryan's hand, she led her sons through the foyer. Nodding at another security guard standing in the entry corral, she turned to the Television Division secretary who sat at a desk near a closed door. "Victor Branch around?" Brenna asked, and Cheryl Little wordlessly pointed toward the back offices. Not a good sign. Tensions must have everyone on edge.

  In the back corridors, Brenna was self-conscious about the stares she received from open doorways. She drew to a stop at the end of the hallway and knocked firmly on the closed conference room door.

  Answering the query from within, she said, "It's Brenna Lanigan."

  Lonny Nickel answered the door. Looking harried and disheveled, he combed his fingers through his dark curly hair as he stepped back, gesturing her inside. He balked at the children's presence. "What're they doing here?"

  "We're about to head home for some dinner. I thought you'd all..." She gave the room a visual sweep, finding Victor Branch at the far end, flanked by Michael Sassman, Susan Strom, and Cameron Palassis. "...like an update on Cassidy's condition."

  "Media's doing a fine job of that," Lonny snapped. "A domestic dispute has left one of our stars in Intensive Care, unconscious. Though," he conceded, "Terry did tell us she's awake."

  "Off and on since about four-thirty this morning, yes." Brenna settled into a chair and gestured Thomas and James to take a seat on either side of her. Cringing from the sharp tone in Lonny's voice, Ryan pulled himself up in Brenna's lap. She automatically rubbed his back soothingly. "She's still in CCU here, rather than where her parents wanted her moved."

  "What?"

  "They wanted to move her to Missouri, but it's been worked out."

  Cameron cleared his throat. "She's stable now?"

  Brenna detected worry in his voice and provided more details. "Surgery went well. The EKG didn't show any lasting damage from her two heart attacks—"

  "Two heart attacks!"

  "Yes," she replied solemnly. "She had a lot of internal bleeding. Some of it put pressure on her heart. The surgeon spent most of his time plugging holes and draining fluids."

  "God," Cameron exhaled, resting his face in his hands.

  "I did a lot of praying," Brenna admitted unashamedly.

  "But you're here, which must mean her prognosis is good?" Victor prompted.

  "They'll probably move her to a general room on Monday. She'll be in the hospital for at least another full week."

  "After that?" Lonny asked.

  "She's got broken ribs and wears out very quickly. She'll need at least a month of at-home convalescence and a brace when she comes back to work."

  "So, no stunt work, then." Brenna shook her head. "Damn," Lonny fumed. "How are you for work?"

  "I'll be taking care of Ryan for her, but I can report."

  "Turn the kid over to his grandparents—"

  "No!" Ryan exclaimed. "Not going with Grandma and Grandpa." He hugged Brenna hard.

  She whispered in his ear, "I promise you'll be safe. I promise." That seemed to soothe him.

  "What's wrong with him?" Lonny interjected.

  "He witnessed some disturbing arguments between Cassidy and her parents," she explained vaguely. "And not only today."

  "Oh." Lonny put his hands in his pockets. "We've moved childcare into an office next to Props. You can leave him there while you work."

  "What have you got so far?"

  "We're doing all the fill shots first. We gave one of your sequences with Brady — the first apprehension — to Chapman. Will can play it just as well."

  "All right."

  "Otherwise we're stuck. Could you come in Saturday to work with Brady on your other shots? His contract time is very narrow. We can't get him next week."

  Brenna nodded. She had expected that. "Saturday bright and early, I'll be here."

  "Are you going back to the hospital?" Cameron asked.

  "Tonight." She remembered the most important thing she had to put in place. "I have a request."

  "Something you want us to tell the press?"

  "I don't want to issue any press releases until after I've talked with Cassidy again and we decide exactly what we want to say." She shook her head. "No, what I need now is someone for Cassidy's protection. Mitch got out of jail on bail this morning. If you don't hire a bodyguard for her, I will."

  Victor tapped a folder in his hands against the tabletop. "You think he'll go after her again?"

  "I'd bet on it."

  Cameron added, "I agree. Before Cassidy's divorce became final, he was always calling, and he does fit the profile of a stalker."

  Branch nodded. "All right." Brenna exhaled in relief. "There'll be someone at the hospital by third shift," he assured her. "Now, we need something from you."

  The group fell silent as she looked from face to face. Seeing mostly consternation, she grabbed the subject by the proverbial horns. "I don't want to do a press conference."

  "You need to give us something," Branch insisted. "The studio's being overrun."

  "From what I've been able to piece together, Cassidy went to visit her family in Missouri over the holiday break. We'd begun seeing each other outside work. Her parents found out about it."

  Lonny was flabbergasted. "So it's true? You're dating?"

  "Wow," said Susan Strom, one of Time Trails set coordinators, who had been sitting quietly in the furthest corner. "This is going to be hot to handle. It crosses that fantasy/reality line fans have a hard time remembering exists anyway."

  "I..." She looked at Cameron, who particularly seemed to be trying to ignore her. "We'd have liked it to come out under different circumstances." That was an understatement but these were not close friends, Brenna reminded herself. Details were not required, and in Cameron's case, unwelcome.

  Lonny looked at his papers. "We'll help you draft a statement to the press, something to keep them occupied."

  "I'll call my agent and give you something for tomorrow."

  Victor Branch shook his head. "Today. Your agent and also Cassidy's are cooling their heels in my office."

  "I'm not going to get out of this, am I?" Brenna said with a sigh.

  James spoke up. "Why is any of this anyone's business? They chased us out of our house, man."

  Brenna put a hand on James' shoulder. "It's all right. He's right; I have to do this."

  "All right, let's get the kids to Karen and sit you down with the agents. I'll tell PR they can assemble the press in media room seven."

  "Understood." She pushed to her feet. "First I'm going to Cassidy's trailer to collect her appointment book. She needs to have her agent cancel her commitments for the foreseeable future."

  "We'll send a runner over to take care of that. Get into my office," Branch snapped.

  Brenna had been hoping for at least a short reprieve during which she could marshal her thoughts. She had no idea what she could say in answer to all the press questions. "All right. She's at Pasadena City General, CCU room 408." Brenna scribbled the room number on a scrap of paper and slid it across the table to Branch. "Can I at least talk to the rest of the cast first?"

  Victor's expression told her he wasn't sure she wouldn't bolt. Brenna was about to reassure him when Cameron spoke up from across the table.

  "I'll walk with her," he volunteered. Turning to Brenna, he repeated, "I'll go with you."

  Why on earth would you want to go anywhere with me? Brenna knew she was "the next man" after Cassidy ended her relationship with Cameron. If they were alone, he could say or do a lot of things Brenna was unsure she could deal with right now. Charitably, she did recall he wen
t pale at the news of Cassidy's heart attacks. Maybe he only wanted private confirmation Cassidy was recovering. "All right."

  The walk from the executive offices over to the sets for Time Trails had never seemed quite so long. Brenna wanted to both hurry to see the others, and hang back, because she was still trying to piece together where to begin in the press conference. She knew that no matter what prepared statement she gave, the media would harangue her with all the questions she didn't want to address, unless she gave them something else to satisfy them. Pack of dogs, she thought uncharitably. Have to throw them a reasonably tasty bone so that I can jump in the other direction while they're gnawing that to bits. Cameron shuffled along, his hands shoved in his pockets, his head down. Thomas kept looking from her to the writer, stumbling occasionally as he shortened his strides to avoid tripping over either of them.

  Ryan circled, occasionally catching Brenna's hand and asking to see Mrs. Grinaldi. Finally Brenna stopped. "Thomas, do you remember the way to the Prop department?" She caught Ryan's hand and put it in Thomas'.

  Thomas nodded. "You're sure?"

  "We'll be there shortly, but I think maybe we'll be quicker if Ryan gets some playtime in, instead of crawling on the rigging." Bending over, she hugged Ryan. "You be good." She brushed her palm over his cheek. James held back for a moment, looking from Thomas to Ryan, who he clearly didn't want to spend a lot of time with, and his mother and Cameron. She raised her eyebrow at him in question.

  "You need someone with you, though," he said.

  Brenna shook her head. "I'll be fine. You don't want to face the press any more than I do."

  Cameron stood in silence until James was also gone, having followed after his brother. "You're pretty good at that," he said. "No wonder Cassidy appreciates you."

  "Cameron, don't do this. To me or yourself," she advised kindly.

  He tried for nonchalance. "I'm just saying that I...I can see why she loves you." He shook his head. "I don't...I just can't get into kids."

  "That isn't why she stopped seeing you," she said quietly.

  "How could you know? Have I been the topic of some pillow talk?" he jabbed.

  "It isn't like that."

  "Damn you," he growled. "One stupid script, and she's crawling into your bed." He stabbed a finger at her. Brenna ignored his anger, knowing it stemmed from his hurt. "I used to be the hero. Me. I collected her from that airplane when she was barely able to walk. I saw to it she got treated. She cried on my shoulder every night as I helped her in and out of the brace. Don't you wonder why no one ever saw her out of makeup or out of costume that first month?" He inhaled. "The costumer was the only other person who knew."