“So, what would that make my future grandchildren?” Aurora charged. “Oh, I forgot. You’re not having children.”
“I never said that I don’t want children. I just…haven’t got around to it yet.” Again, her present quandary reared its ugly head. After spending so much time with Kevin’s boys, she wanted a child of her own more than ever. Hell, she’d even babysat on a few occasions since she returned to Los Angeles. Every time, she left Kevin’s house with a longing in her heart. “Maybe you’ll have a grandchild from me in the near future.”
“But am I going to have to travel halfway around the world to see the child?” Aurora asked. “Jan, you know I’m a practical woman. And what about all of the cousins? They’re so close. Wouldn’t you want that for your own?”
What Aurora didn’t realize is that her daughter took every factor she’d noted into consideration. January wanted her parents to be happy with her choice of a partner, and she needed a man who cared enough to make sure that she involved her huge family. She remained determined to repair her rocky relationship with her mother and father. Now, she had to prove to them that she was serious. Going home was a start, but not nearly enough. January had a lot of work ahead of her, but she’d prepared herself.
“Listen, Mom, I still have a few things to do tonight, but I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Tell Charlie not to worry. I’ll be on that damn plane, come hell or high water.”
“There’s no need to swear,” Aurora admonished her. “And, Jan…?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
She’d finally reached the bottom of her pile to pack. Lovingly, she caressed the strap she’d saved from the wine cellar at the de Sade chateau and tucked it inside her small makeup pouch. She’d also pared down her cosmetics, keeping only the essentials.
“Please travel safely tomorrow, and keep in contact with your brother, if you run into any trouble,” Aurora said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom,” January said. “And whether you believe it or not, I am really looking forward to coming home.”
“You know, for once I believe you.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
As she hung up the phone, January thought that maybe it was going to be a good trip after all.
# # #
“Woo-hoo! Look who’s finally here…”
“Glad you could fit in the little people in between trips to France, Jan!”
“She’s a busy gal. She’s got two men to keep entertained…”
“Mwuah…. Mwuah …Mwuah…” One by one, January went around the table to buss her girlfriends on the cheeks. “And I am not dating two different men!”
“Says you,” Mary Jo retorted and took a sip of her frozen margarita. “That’s not what TMZ tells me.”
Over the years, this small circle of friends had formed when January met M.J. in New York doing some horrific evening of one-acts. They often joked that the show was so far off Broadway, they got lost in New Jersey. Along the way, she met Jackie at the same time she met Kevin, while they were all sharing the spotlight on their late-night comedy show. Ellen somehow joined the bunch after they’d all started working in films.
Although they didn’t see each other often these days, they’d all remained close in a town where loyalty wasn’t necessarily considered a virtue.
Stretching her arms to hug the three of them at once, January said, “Oh, I missed you guys.”
“Hey, we even picked the Chateau Marmont to make you feel at home,” Ellen said.
“I thought we picked it to get noticed and get some work in this damn town,” Jackie groaned, prompting a burst of laughter from their table.
Chateau Marmont was indeed a Hollywood legend itself. The notorious hotel hosted as much tragedy as it did celebration. John Belushi overdosed in one of the bungalows, and Lindsay Lohan notoriously trashed one of the rooms. However, nothing seemed to deter the stars from frequenting the property, which took its inspiration from a castle in France’s Loire Valley. Jim Morrison, Heath Ledger, Liz Taylor and even the elusive Greta Garbo had all spent time within the landmarked walls. The place simply oozed with Hollywood history.
True to its lore, Bar Marmont continued to draw an A-list clientele. The infamous watering hole brought the feel of a Paris bistro to Sunset Boulevard. Thick banquettes adorned with silk cushions lined the main room, and each table was furnished with a small table lamp to enhance the intimacy. Deals were often made and signed at those very tables. That night, though, January was just there for some merriment.
Rolling up her sleeves, January ordered a gin and tonic and got down to business. She wanted to hear the latest from everyone. “So, what’s been happening? I feel like I’ve been gone forever.”
“Did you see the pics from my last red carpet?” Although she’d just finished a movie over the summer herself, Jackie had noticed that her film offers had dwindled since the birth of her first child. Every woman at that table had faced some sort of age discrimination since they’d reached their mid-thirties. January knew she was next, but that was merely one more worry on her list—what the hell to do with her career when Hollywood no longer wanted her.
“I did not see your latest red carpet, but tell me, Jack…”
“I must send you the photos.” Jackie took a toast and loaded it with caviar as she gestured to January to indulge with them. “So, my right nipple was poking against my dress. Only it wasn’t my nipple. It was the baby’s fucking pacifier that she shoved down my bra right before we left.”
Joining in the feeding frenzy, January nibbled at her caviar, washed it down and then reached for a second toast. However, she nearly spit her food out as Jackie’s story unfolded.
“And these boobs are so big now from breastfeeding, I didn’t even realize it until the paps had their way with me,” Jackie continued. “Now, everyone in Hollywood thinks I have one giant nipple.”
More than ever, January wished she had that one nipple to discuss with her girlfriends. The conversation with her mother only heightened her desire to have a child. Although she wasn’t jealous of these ladies, she certainly wished she had those crazy parenting stories to tell.
One toddler story merged into the next. The women joked that they should join forces now that their acting careers were in the collective toilet and write a book on motherhood.
“I could be a Mommy Blogger in my next life,” Mary Jo admitted. “I can’t remember the last time I was invited to a casting couch…”
“Ah, the things we used to bitch about before we made it,” Ellen said. “Now, we’d blow them for a friggin walk-on.”
“It’s not that bad yet,” Jackie said. “Talk to me in four years when forty hits.”
They were all beautiful women. Jackie was a svelte brunette, and Ellen and Mary Jo were both bubbly blondes. All three of them worked at maintaining their physiques. None of them looked to be in their mid-thirties, but they’d all been around long enough for the studio executives to do the math. The film industry just didn’t have time for older women with children.
Talking to her girlfriends, January felt like she was in limbo, stuck somewhere in the middle of them all.
“What about you, Jan?” Mary Jo asked. “We’ve been yapping about ourselves. What the hell is going on with you? And who was this cute boy you were caught canoodling with in Marseille?”
“Oh, well, uh, that was—” When her phone began to ring, she glanced at the caller ID. “Why, it’s Etienne now…”
“Etienne? What about the other one? You owe us an explanation, lady!” Jackie called out as January backed out of the restaurant to take his call. “And don’t leave out any of the kinky details…”
January had to laugh. Jackie always said she lived vicariously through January’s sex life because she didn’t have the guts to engage in the wild adventures of her friend.
“Hi,” January said once she stepped into the quietude of the lobby. “It’s early for you. What time is it?”
“I had an interv
iew on the radio this morning.” Etienne’s voice sounded as if he’d just awakened—a tone she knew well. “It’s nearly seven. And I worried when I didn’t hear back from you last night.”
To his credit, in the time since she kicked him out of her apartment, Etienne tried very hard to remain in contact with January, even when she didn’t feel like talking.
“So, you’ve finished filming?” he asked. “What are your plans?”
“I told you—I’m going home to Kansas.” Her irritation escalated. Etienne just couldn’t believe that she wanted to return to the farm. For once, though, she didn’t ask him to go with her, and that troubled him. “And I really don’t know how long I’ll be staying.”
“Listen, Janny, I miss you, and I really would love to see you.” There was a sense of desperation his voice that she hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps, he’d finally realized the error of his ways. “I’m playing Paris the second week in October. I’ll leave a ticket for you at the box office…”
“Etienne, I can’t make any prom—”
“Janny, we spent five years together,” he reminded her. “I think we at least deserve to have a conversation face-to-face.”
Because Etienne was finally ready to talk, he expected her to drop everything, as per his usual. Nothing had changed.
However, he did raise the white flag, and she had to consider his invitation. Maybe she was wrong this time. Perhaps these months alone reminded him of how wonderful things had once been between them.
January, though, didn’t plan to give him an immediate answer.
“Look, we’ll talk about this later,” she said. “I do have to go, and I have a flight in the early morning.”
“Please call me when you get to Kansas,” he said. “I don’t care what time it is. Just let me know you are there.”
“I’ll—I’ll talk to you, Etienne.” As far as she was concerned, she owed him nothing but the opportunity to present his side of the story and to let her know where he’d landed. She’d given him more than enough time to think, but any discussion would have to be had on her time. She just didn’t know where she planned to be in October. Hell, she might even stop in New York after going home.
This time around, January upheld her own terms.
While she hurried back to her table, a young man in his early-twenties stopped her midway. “Excuse me…I usually don’t do this, but...are you January Gallimore?”
A grin brightened her face. “Yes, I am.”
“Uh…oh, crap…” He scrambled in a search through his pockets and then turned in panic to the maître d’ to ask for a sheet of paper. “I’m sorry. Can I trouble you for a quick photo and an autograph?”
“Oh, it’s no trouble.” January waved him on to stand beside her for a selfie. When she stepped back and took his pen, he thanked her.
“Can you write ‘Happy Birthday, Joe’ on there?” the young man asked. “My dad is a huge fan, and this would make his day.”
“Your dad?” Her face froze in that famous Gallimore grin. “Well, sure.”
Maybe her time with Nigel was merely a fluke. She couldn’t kid herself forever. She no longer resonated with today’s youth. Overnight, she’d become a dad-crush. Next, she might be waiting tables at this very bar to pay her bills.
“You’re the best. Thank you, Miss Gallimore. Dad’s gonna love this!”
When she rejoined the ladies, she ordered another drink—a double. “A kid just asked me for my autograph—for his father.”
“Oh, now we all need doubles,” Jackie said as the waitress took their latest order.
January dug into the fried green tomatoes and shoveled one into her mouth. “Oh, these are almost as good as my mother’s…”
“January, what’s gotten into you? You’re actually eating!” Mary Jo observed.
“I’m just…I’m done with the film,” January stammered. Lord, she hoped she wasn’t getting fat on top of being old now. “Why not enjoy food for a change?”
“Are you pregnant?” Jackie stage-whispered as she moved closer to January.
“She wouldn’t be drinking if she was knocked up.”
“Yeah, true.”
“I am not pregnant,” January insisted and reached out for the plate of mini-burgers. “I’m just hungry. And a little drunk.”
“Okay, so she’s not pregnant,” Ellen said. “But how is that Etienne?”
January stuffed her mouth as she answered. “Oh, well…he’s…Etienne.”
“Come on, Jan, we live through you,” Jackie said. “When are you going to tell us about this young Brit you schtooped over the summer? Inquiring minds need to know.”
Thankful for the very faint lighting, January felt her face flushing with embarrassment. “Nigel?”
“Nigel?” Mary Jo mocked her. “Notice how her voice rises a few octaves when she says that name—Ni…gel?”
Suddenly, all three of her friends’ voices came at her at once, and she felt like she was watching a tennis match to keep up with the discussion on her love life.
“Sounds like Nigel might still be in the picture.”
“January Gallimore, what’s going on? Are you two-timing the old douchebag with a pair of young, studly British buns?”
“Come on, guys!” January begged for mercy.
“She is.”
“She’s gaga over Nigel. Look at her face!”
Once January calmed down and stopped laughing, she wiped her mouth with her linen napkin and downed half her drink. “Nigel’s babysitting Lenny.”
“Oh, my God!” Jackie pounded her fist on the table. “He’s got Lenny. This is serious shit here.”
“But you’re still talking to Etienne?” Ellen asked.
January just shrugged.
“Alright,” Mary Jo began and tapped her fork to her plate. “I’m proposing a toast. To January—and to a girls’ weekend in Paris next year. Regardless of whom she ends up with…”
To that, January raised her glass. “Cheers, girls! To Paris…”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Sis!” A familiar voice called out as January hauled her huge suitcase through to ground transportation. “Over here…”
“Charlie!” Arm stretched out wide, she ran as fast as she could and nearly tumbled into that familiar embrace. “Charlie, it’s so good to see you. Oh, I missed you.”
“We’ve missed you, too.” Although a few flecks of silver peppered his brown hair and beard, Charlie was tanned, and he looked like he’d been working out. Growing up, January always gravitated toward him, and in the last few years, some distance had grown between them. She hoped she could repair that now.
Dammit, she had something to fix with everyone.
“This can’t be all you brought with you,” Charlie said with one look at her overstuffed suitcase. He knew his sister well.
“Oh, no. I’m paying to have the rest delivered to Mom’s house later today,” she explained.
From the side, he minded his baby sister with a touch of dark humor. “You just brought enough to get you through tonight in case there’s a delay?”
“A girl’s gotta have her wardrobe…”
“Jan, you’ll never change.” He took the handle from her and began rolling her luggage toward the door. “Welcome home.”
“It’s good to be back.” And she truly meant every word.
One thing she loved about Kansas was the autumn weather, and the familiar fall scent had already pervaded the air. It was a sunny day, but not too hot, and she was so thankful to be out of Los Angeles, in spite of the two-and-a-half-hour drive ahead of them to Baxter Springs.
However, she was thankful for Charlie’s company. Out of her four older brothers, Charlie had taken the least interest in the farm. While he’d done his due diligence and put in his time, he’d always held an outside job until the previous year. He’d dabbled in a number of careers—from newspaper advertising to sales to bank manager. He’d saved his money over the years, and now he had some plans of hi
s own.
Perhaps they connected most closely out of all the Gallimore kids because they had the most in common. Although Charlie didn’t necessarily have the same drive January possessed to leave Kansas behind, he certainly enjoyed his own life outside the family farm. While her other brothers built homes on their father’s land, Charlie bought a small cottage a few miles down the road, and he often kept to himself. He wasn’t anti-social by any means. In fact, he was usually the life of any Gallimore party. He just enjoyed—and protected—his privacy, which January always admired in him.
“So, what’s going on?” January asked once she’d clicked her seatbelt into place. “Catch me up. You quit your job. What are you doing with your time?”
“I’ll give you a tour later,” he said. “I’ve taken some acres that are rightfully mine, and I’m opening a winery.”
How she’d missed this news, she didn’t know, but now her guilt reemerged. This was a huge move for Charlie. January wanted to celebrate his entrepreneurial spirit and cheer him on. “Charlie, that’s an amazing idea. Can you actually make wine in Kansas?”
“You can make wine anywhere you can grow grapes,” he chuckled. “Now, Merlot grapes are out of the question for the climate, but it’s a growing business in the state. I’ve even joined the Kansas Winemakers Association.”
“I am so proud of you,” she said, as he drove along the winding curves of the airport parking lot. “And I think you’re just the person to make this a successful venture for the farm. I’d love to try some.”
“I’d been playing around with it for a few years. I do have a few bottles—our test run, if you will,” he told her. “We just harvested our grapes for this year, so production is underway, but it’s a process.”
“A vineyard on the farm. Well, that’s something I certainly never thought I’d see.”
“You remember that old out building where grandpa used to keep his tools?” January nodded. “We’re working on making that the tasting bar. A little wine, a little cheese. Maybe hire some local bands to play on the weekends…”
SMITTEN (Paris Après Minuit) Page 37