“Arthur, please! There is a lady present,” Erik scolded as Camille blushed.
“I am so sorry, honey. I should have said sex, happiness, and then success. Cheers!”
“You are incorrigible,” Erik said, lifting his glass. “So? The script?”
Stan handed them both the thick packet. “Here it is. We hope you like it.”
“Stan? Is this your name?” Camille asked, surprised. “I never knew you were interested in making screenplays.”
“Old man Arthur suggested I try my hand at writing and since I know your character better than anyone, I agreed. Plus, it would give me a reason to hang around you just a bit more. I am gonna miss you, kiddo.” His gruff voice did not hide the catch in the back of his throat or the mist in his eyes.
Camille looked at him strangely. She stood and offered him her hand. “Come take a walk with me. I need to talk to you about something.”
Stan nodded, squeezing her hand as he followed her into the aviary. She offered him a seat and then sat across from him.
“You have been there for me ever since I could remember. You were the one who put Band-aids on my knees and kissed away my tears. You saw to it that I was educated and cared for when even my own mother didn’t care. Why?” she asked gently.
“Because somebody had to, Cam. You deserved someone to be there for you and when your mother and I…”
“Stan? Are you my dad?”
Stan sighed and shook his head. “No, sweetheart. I’m not. I do feel responsible for him leaving though.”
“Tell me the truth. All of it. Don’t worry, nothing is going to change how I feel about you.”
“You are such a good girl, Camille. You always have been. Very well. Your parents had separated when your mother was pregnant with you. Shortly after you turned two, your father miraculously returned and was working as a mechanic in the garage I took my car to. He was complaining about how his useless girlfriend gave birth to a carrot-top and that she was demanding child support. I, of course, wanted to see the picture he was passing around. I hate to say, but you were one, uh, unique-looking kid.”
“Oh, I saw those pictures. I was just plain ugly. Hell, I would have stuffed myself back in until I was done,” Camille laughed lightly.
“It still bothered me how a father could be like that. I had no children of my own and would have given anything for one, even a little carrot-topped girl.” Stan smiled, squeezing her hand again. “But there was something in your features that caught my attention, especially your eyes. They had character, an appeal that I did not see very often in child actors. I gave your dad my business card and told him that if he were ever interested, to call me about setting up a photo shoot. He laughed, needless to say, and made a couple of crude comments that there is no reason to repeat. Several months passed when I got a phone call. It was your mother. She said she had found the card and wanted to meet me.”
He took a breath and paused to stare at a hummingbird attacking the hanging fuchsias. “By that time, your appearance was so quirky that you were cute. Your mother was desperate to make money off you, saying that her husband could barely make the rent and her only skills were those of a lonely housewife.”
“But they weren’t married. Uh oh… I think I know where this is going.” Camille bit her lip.
Stan looked at the floor and nodded. “Your mom was an attractive woman and I was lonely. I also knew that she was not married, but I did not care about the lie. Anyway, we hooked up, making all these great plans for when you became famous one day. I was too naive to see that she was using me, thinking that I had some great power to make that happen. After I sold you on a shoot for baby food, I proudly handed her the cut for a whopping 75 bucks. She hit the ceiling, demanding the entire payment.”
“She wanted your share too? Figures.”
“And yours. In the contract I had drawn up, one third of the payment would be placed in a private trust for you. I explained to your mother that this was industry standards and reminded her that we had discussed that arrangement when she first signed the contract. I also informed her that we had agreed that the money she was given was to cover your expenses, not to make her rich. She told me that your father had left her, and that she was desperate and alone. That was when I confronted her in her lie about being married and refused to budge. She started screaming, very loudly, about how she had given me her body for nothing and that everyone was out to get her.”
“I am very familiar with her screaming and her paranoia. Was this at the apartment?”
“Within earshot of every neighbor. I guess the word got around to your father because he showed up at my office and demanded that he, too, be given a cut of your earnings.”
“What? After he bailed on us? Did he say anything about my mother and you, you know, doing it?”
“Yeah. He said he didn’t care if I screwed the whore until my balls fell off; he just wanted the money you made. I told him no. We ended up in a little scuffle.”
“So both my parents were total losers. Why am I not surprised?”
“I told him that if I ever saw him in my office again, I would have him arrested for trespassing. I also told him that I would have every attorney in the industry to help me protect you and your mother from him. I was a bit hotheaded, too, and might have threatened his life if I ever found out he hurt you. Back then, we could get away with these things.” Stan shrugged shamefully.
“Then what happened?”
“He went straight to your apartment, broke in, and began to beat on your mother. A neighbor called the cops and he was arrested and put in jail. She was sent to the hospital and, because of the provision in the contract that would place you in my custody in the event anything happened to your mother, I was permitted to take care of you. When she was discharged, she… She refused to take you again unless I signed her over as your power of attorney. I fought her, letting her know that child abandonment would be pursued and that I would exercise my rights as your legal guardian. I informed her that I would have her declared an unfit mother if she refused to take you back and provide for you. It was a lot of Hollywood smokescreen, but it worked. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you, it was…”
“Not your responsibility,” Camille said softly, understanding.
“But I still felt responsible. Even though you didn’t live with me, I still wanted to make sure you had everything you ever needed. I bullied your mother into signing over your career to me until you turned eighteen. I promised her that all her base expenses would be covered, including a generous allowance to take care of your needs. You know the rest.”
“My father?”
“After he was released from jail, facing charges of domestic violence, he disappeared from the face of the planet. He skipped bail and a warrant for his arrest was set. I helped your mother make provisions in an uncontested fraternity suit that he would have no claim to either your, or her, income if he ever bothered to return.”
“Stan…” Camille looked at him suspiciously.
“Okay, he might have been given a one-way ticket out of the country and some pocket money. But he will not be coming back to make any claims. He is too afraid of me.”
“I never figured you to be such a bully. And I love you for it.” Camille wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek as she settled herself on his lap. “Thank you, for everything. If it weren’t for you, I would not be here today. Stan? I was wondering… would you please walk me down the aisle and give me away as father of the bride?”
Stan’s tough exterior melted and tears fell in joy as he hugged her tightly. “That would be the biggest honor of my life. Thank you, Cam. This… This thing you have been doing with Erik, it has changed you. Made you softer and more confident. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Go sit with the boys and I will show you. Just no laughing, okay?”
“Are you sure? I know it is very personal…”
“Which is why I will share it. I will be in there in a
few minutes.”
Camille wandered to the nursery and looked around, taking in all the changes that had happened. She loved this little part of her life, a part where she was free to just laugh and play. A part free from hurt tears and a broken heart. She felt her stress of being an adult melt away as she dressed in little pink overalls and a long-sleeved shirt with hearts on it. After slipping on white ankle socks with tiny pink bows and her favorite sparkly pink sneakers, she turned to the mirror.
With a smile, she parted her long, red hair down the middle and then tied it into two high ponytails, complete with pink bows. She grabbed her stuffed panda and gleefully skipped back to the living room. She giggled as Stan’s jaw went slack. Arthur merely grinned as he raised another glass of champagne in her direction, and Erik… The look of love and pride upon his face was undisguisable. He held his arms out for her and pulled her to sit upon his lap.
“Daddy? I’m thirsty. Can I have some of that?” she asked, pointing to his glass.
“You may have a taste and then I will get you some juice. Did you have a good talk with Uncle Stan?”
“Yes, sir. He loves me lots,” Camille said, completely comfortable in her little-girl persona. Little Cami was now truly a part of who she was.
“Yes, he does. We all do. I was telling him and Uncle Arthur about our play days and how much fun we have had.”
“Does this mean we have to go back home now? I don’t want to. I like it here,” Camille pouted, suddenly realizing that her ‘training’ was complete and the time to film was close at hand. It saddened her.
“Yes, baby girl, but…”
“No, Camille, honey,” Arthur interrupted. “You don’t have to leave. I have decided to give this house to you two as a wedding gift. Just keep my room for me for when I come to visit.”
“Really? Oh, Uncle Arthur! Thank you!” Camille squealed, throwing herself at him and covering his face with kisses. “I hope you come lots! You too, Stan!”
“I intend to, so don’t you worry. I knew I saw something special in you, little girl. You have not only made my grumpy foster son the happiest man on the planet, but you proved his theory to be correct. You enjoy this, don’t you?”
“Most of it. Not when I’m in trouble ‘cuz he is wicked mean.”
“Mean?” Both Arthur and Stan growled, eying Erik.
“Yeah, mean,” Erik chuckled, unbothered, “like when you told me I couldn’t drive the truck when I was ten. Mean like when I was grounded for two weeks after you busted me for lying. Mean like…”
“We got it,” Arthur groaned. “Daddy mean. Erik? If you are still interested in life-coaching, I am aware of several couples who would be interested. Would you like me to contact them?”
“Are you serious? I would love that. Cami? Would you like to do that? This is an important decision. It could risk us being outted.”
“Erik, darling, you and I have spent our entire lives in role-play. The only difference is that these roles are real. And I don’t care who knows. Not as long as I have you beside me.”
“Then I have an idea. A reality series. We can call it Role Play, hosted by Erik and Camille Renault. Well?”
“A new Crenshaw Production?” Arthur asked. “Well, girl? What say you? Are you up for a little adventure?”
“As long as you don’t make me wear Pippi-tails, I will do anything!”
“No more Pippi-tails, honey. From now on, you will wear Cami-tails.”
The End
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More Books by Breanna Hayse
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Playing a Little Page 17