“I have money,” she said. “Not a lot, but it should be enough to pay for the tests and Dr. Baine’s visit this evening.”
He wasn’t disgusted, but was bothered, hurt, that she thought he wasn’t willing, or able, to pay for Grace’s needs. He wasn’t completely destitute. “I’ve already paid for tonight’s visit and will pay for the tests. Why wouldn’t I? She’s my niece.”
“Yes, she is your niece, but she’s not your responsibility.”
“Yes, she is,” he insisted. “She became my responsibility the moment you introduced me to her. Before then actually, I just didn’t know about her.”
Sorrow filled her eyes. “I’m not trying to upset you.”
Guilt stabbed him like a prop knife. He hadn’t meant to sound angry. He wasn’t angry, just frustrated. “You aren’t upsetting me. I just don’t want you worrying about it. The money. I have more than enough to provide for her.”
“Until you find your brother.”
He bit his tongue. There was no telling what Joe would do about the situation. He might come to California, or he might want to have Grace delivered to him—wherever that might be. That stuck Jack dead center. Joe couldn’t know any more about taking care of babies than he did, and like him, would most likely want to hire Helen. Joe would take advantage of that. In more ways than one. “It’s been a long evening. We should get this one into bed.” He held out his arms. “I’ll hold her while you fix her bottle.”
Helen was hesitant, but then handed him Grace.
He carried her into the living room. Turning either of them over to Joe would never be to his liking, but he didn’t have any control over that. Holding Grace a bit tighter, he sat down on the sofa.
Grace cooed.
The sound warmed his entire chest cavity, and damn if that didn’t make his eyes burn. He held her up, in front of his face. She gave him one of her toothless grins. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized the immensity of the barriers he’d put up around himself, the ones that were breaking loose, threatening to tumble all the way down. A tiny shiver tickled his spine. Had he focused so hard on work for so many years because he’d been afraid of this? Of loving someone. Because when you loved someone, your life wasn’t your own. You owed that person your everything...your responsibility. He knew that firsthand, and had been trying to escape it for years.
He was still contemplating that when Helen arrived, bottle in hand. Passing Grace to her, he stood. “I’ll be back.”
Helen frowned, but didn’t ask where he was going, even though her eyes demonstrated she wanted to. He didn’t offer an explanation. Didn’t have one. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just knew he had to get away for a while. Clear his mind.
Once in his car, a six-cylinder Chrysler that he’d bought brand-new three years ago, he closed the door but didn’t start the engine. He’d paid cash up front for the car, believing everything had been on the right track. The studio had released four movies that year, starring Joe. Money had started to roll in. Real money, and the future had looked bright and clear. Then the debacle with Joe had struck.
Jack started the car and shifted into First. Exiting the parking lot, habit had him turning left. Joe had been the reason those four movies had done so well, he’d been the star fans had flocked to the movie theaters to see. Other studios knew that, and Joe should have known that meant he had to keep his nose clean.
Joe had known, just hadn’t worried about it. He’d never worried about consequences.
Jack shifted gears again, heading toward the studio. That had been his destination. He rarely went anywhere else. Didn’t have the time to. It had taken all he had to keep the studio from going down with Joe.
As they had years ago, a plethora of emotions rolled through him. Anger. Frustration. Blame. He’d thought he’d come to grips with all that. Evidently, he’d just buried it. Or maybe those emotions were part of the reason he’d pushed forward harder than ever. To prove that he wasn’t his brother. Something he’d been doing his entire life.
For as long as he could remember, he’d been compared to Joe. Told to be more like him. Joe had lit up while on stage, and their parents had wanted him to do the same. Claimed they’d make more money if he could make the audience respond the way Joe did.
He’d tried, for their sakes, but it had been impossible. Acting just wasn’t in him. That’s what made it easy for him to spot it in others. It took more than just wanting to be an actor, it took an ability that was as natural as walking. Because even that, how they moved, had to fit the character they needed to portray.
His chest was heavy when he pulled into the studio lot. His mind had shifted, too. Was on Helen now. There was nothing false about her. She couldn’t hide her true self. Nor could she hide how much she loved Grace. She had been truly petrified at the idea of the baby being ill.
He’d never met someone like her. Probably because she was as far away from the world he’d lived in his entire life as a person could get. The acting world was full of players, and Helen wasn’t a player.
He climbed out of the car and entered the studio, going straight to his office. At his desk, he opened the script lying there, tried to focus on the section they would film tomorrow. This film was different than all the others he’d created. It was a drama. The story of two men returning from the war. There was a touch of comedy, here and there, and a small amount of romance. Melodramas weren’t new, but this one was different. The plot focused on the challenges the two men faced attempting to make it home against everything the world threw at them, including a blinding and deadly snowstorm, which was going to be an extra challenge to film in sunny California. That’s also what made it different. People who hadn’t experienced a snowstorm would be drawn in wondering how the men would survive, and those who had would be able to relate and empathize with the men’s life-threatening obstacles.
His mind went back to Helen and the obstacles she’d faced. He couldn’t say that he knew another woman who would do what Helen was doing. Give up her own life for the infant of someone she’d barely known.
He had to wonder if he should release her from their agreement, before she was exposed to the reality of Hollywood. The reality that was kept hidden.
The ringing of the phone surprised him. It was late. Almost ten. Long ago, he’d refrained from answering the phone. That’s why he had a secretary. To field all those calls of people wanting an audition.
His heart froze for a split second and then he grabbed the receiver. “Hello,” he said, half expecting Helen on the other end.
“Jack?”
It wasn’t Helen, but a voice he knew. “Joe.”
“How are you?” Joe asked, before saying, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Yours too,” Jack answered with a sense of dread pressing down on him. “You must have got the message I left for you this morning.”
“I did. And am so glad you called. I’ve missed you, Jack. Missed you.”
Chapter Nine
Helen thought she’d lived through the longest nights in her life. Those where she’d been too full of worry and fear to sleep to even close her eyes. She’d been wrong. The night that had just passed went beyond all those of the past. Jack had never returned to the apartment. As if she realized that too, Grace hadn’t slept, either. She’d fussed and cried, harder than ever. No matter what Helen had tried. Diaper changes, bottles, even the spoons Jack had put in the refrigerator, nothing soothed her.
She had walked the floor all night, holding Grace, and every moment that hadn’t been focused on comforting the baby had been fixated on Jack. She imagined the absolute worst. Everything from a car accident to a run-in with the mob or police. She also fretted over whether he’d regretted bringing her and Grace here. To his apartment.
She hated this feeling of helplessness more than ever. Which had to stop. She’d survived the last two years on her own,
and would again. Fact was, she wasn’t on her own. She had Grace, and right now getting her to the hospital for the tests was the most important thing.
Most likely exhausted from her rough night, Grace had eventually fallen asleep. Helen laid her in the drawer and carried their suitcase into the bathroom. After changing her clothes, she put up her hair and then stood in front of the mirror to tie the scarf snuggly beneath her chin.
The image reflected in the glass showed the bags under her eyes, but her glasses would...
She no longer had her glasses. They had been her disguise for over two years. She never went anywhere without them.
Huffing out a breath, she closed the suitcase. This wasn’t Chicago. Nor was this about her. She had to put her fears of being recognized by a member of the Outfit behind her—for Grace’s sake—this morning.
It was far more important that she find a taxi driver who knew where the hospital was that Dr. Baine worked at, and would take them there.
Suitcase in hand, she opened the bathroom door. The case almost slipped out of her fingers at the sight of Jack standing near the apartment door.
“Good morning.”
He was smiling and acting as if, well, as if he’d been there all night. A bolt of anger struck inside her like lightning.
“I spent the night at the studio.” He hung his suit coat on the coatrack. “Had to make sure everything was ready for filming since we don’t know how long Grace’s tests will take.” He turned and walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll fry us some eggs. We’ll have to leave in an hour, the hospital isn’t far, but there is plenty of traffic this time of the morning.”
Helen was floored, but the anger was still there, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Especially as her heart thudded against her rib cage.
“How did Grace sleep?”
He’d disappeared into the kitchen. “She didn’t.”
He poked his head out the doorway. “She didn’t?”
“No. The teething kept her awake all night.”
“And therefore you, too.”
She had to look away. He appeared too concerned, not only for Grace, but for her.
“Why don’t you lie down then, just for a little bit? She’s sleeping now, I checked on her.”
Why hadn’t she heard the door? Heard him? Maybe he’d arrived while the water had been running, which meant he’d been there awhile. Tossing those thoughts aside, she shook her head. “There isn’t time.”
“I could call Dr. Baine. Ask if we can come in later.”
“No. I’m not tired or hungry.” Frustrated, she added, “Grace needs those tests this morning.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was questioning her reaction. She didn’t care. Anger still simmered inside her.
“All right, then. What can I do to help get Grace ready?”
She walked to the bedroom. “Nothing. I changed her right before she fell asleep and have a bottle ready.”
He followed her into the bedroom. “Then we might as well leave.”
She stepped in front of him and lifted Grace out of the drawer.
He attempted to make small talk, asking questions about Grace, if she’d found the spoons he’d put in the refrigerator and if they’d helped, but must have tired of her one-word answers because they drove to the hospital in silence.
Helen knew she had no real cause to be angry with him. It was out of the goodness of his heart that she and Grace were at his apartment. Yet, she was angry. In a way she hadn’t been ever before. It made little sense, especially when she should be focused on Grace.
Upon entering the hospital, they were escorted down a long corridor. Everything was stark white and the smell reminded her of the bleaching powder she’d used to wash Vera’s bedding and handkerchiefs.
“Good morning,” Dr. Baine greeted them, stepping out of a room to meet them in the hallway. “I figured you two, or three, I should say, would be early. We’re ready for Grace.” He gestured toward a short bench. “You two can wait here. It won’t take long.”
A nurse, a dark-haired woman dressed in white, had stepped out of the room behind him. As she stepped closer, Helen tightened her hold on Grace.
“Don’t worry,” the nurse said, reaching for Grace. “She’ll be fine.”
“She didn’t sleep well last night,” Helen said, attempting to justify not handing over the sleeping baby.
“Teething can do that,” Dr. Baine said.
“Give her to the nurse,” Jack whispered in her ear.
He’d also put his arm around her shoulders. Helen wished he wouldn’t do that. For as much comfort as it provided, it also caused chaos. Inside her. Had last night and did again this morning.
“She’ll be fine,” he added.
She released her hold on Grace and the nurse lifted the baby out of her arms. As the nurse started to walk away, Helen’s heart jolted. “Wait.”
The nurse and the doctor looked at her.
“I have a bottle in my purse. She might need it.”
“You can give it to her afterward,” Dr. Baine said. “This won’t take that long.” A moment later, they disappeared behind a door.
“Have a seat,” Jack said. “You must be exhausted.”
“No,” Helen answered, although she lowered herself onto the bench. Her stomach was gurgling and her hands trembling. “We should have asked them what they are going to do to her.”
Jack sat beside her and stretched an arm out along the back of the bench. “Dr. Baine said last night that it was little more than a pinprick.”
“Yes, but how much more?”
Jack grinned patted her shoulder. “Sometimes not knowing is better. Besides, they’ll tell us all we need to know afterward.”
That was true, but it didn’t settle her nerves.
He tugged her closer to him, and against her better judgment, she didn’t resist. Even when her cheek rested against the side of his shoulder.
“It’s tough, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“We are doing all we can.” He sighed heavily. “All we can.”
A niggling sense said he was referring to something more than the tests. The heaviness that came then nearly crushed her insides. He was a busy man and suddenly learning he had a niece, and having to provide for her, had not been something he’d expected.
“I don’t like hospitals.”
His change of subject was so unexpected, she sat up and looked his way.
He shrugged. “Don’t know how people can work in them. They give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Why?”
“No reason, except for the look of them, the smell of them and the fact they are full of sick people.”
She had to grin at his expression and statement, and then nodded. “I’ve never been in one before.”
“Never?”
“No. Never.”
“I haven’t too often. Never been in one for myself, but have visited them to see people. A friend of mine was in a car accident last year. I went to see him before he passed away.”
“A good friend?”
“Yes. He helped me write the script I’m filming right now. The plot was his idea.”
Interested because it gave her something else to think about, she asked, “What is the plot? And the name, what’s the name of the film? If it has one already.”
His face lit up. “It does. It’s called Home Bound, right now, but I’ve been known to change the name after seeing the final product.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes, after seeing it all together...” He shrugged. “It feels different than the script did, and a new name fits it better.”
She found that interesting, even though a bit hard to understand. “So what is Home Bound about?”
“The journey of two men coming
home after the war.” Thoughtfulness filled his face.
“Do they make it home?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet, haven’t shot that scene.”
His grin said he was teasing. She’d been to the theater only twice, and both films had been funny. Full of overexaggerated car chases and bumbling police officers. “Is it funny?”
“There are some funny parts.”
“Like what?”
He frowned. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Well, in the beginning, when they get off the ship that had brought them back to America, they get their luggage mixed up. The two men are different sizes, so the clothes in their bags don’t fit either one of them. Then they meet up again on the train taking them to their hometowns while wearing the wrong-sized clothes and realize the mix up.”
Images of what he described played out in her head. “I bet that is funny.”
“That’s also when they realize that they know each other. That they live in neighboring towns. And they decide to travel home together. We just started filming yesterday, but it’s already turning out better than I’d expected even. The two actors are great together. They had the entire crew laughing. We were still laughing hours later.”
There was pride in his voice and on his face, as well as delight. He obviously really enjoyed making films. “I’m sure the audience will be laughing, too.”
“That’s our hope. Getting reaction from the audience within the first couple of scenes is imperative. It makes them engage, want more, to the point they become engrossed, wondering what will happen next.”
“What does happen next?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
He grinned and nodded toward the end of the hallway. She quickly turned, and jumped to her feet as Dr. Baine carried Grace through the door. Jack stood too, and as soon as Grace saw him, she smiled and started cooing.
“She did excellent,” Dr. Baine said. “Not so much as a peep.”
“She is a good little girl,” Jack said, tickling her beneath her chin.
Baby On His Hollywood Doorstep (Brides 0f The Roaring Twenties Book 1) Page 10