The Hollywood Tales: Brandon Books 1-4

by Audra Cole

  “I thought I’d take the morning off.”

  “Oh, well that is a nice surprise,” I say, totally taken back. This never happens.

  “What’s a normal Monday look like?”

  “Well I would still be in bed for starters.”

  He laughs. “Okay, well you’re up now. So, then what?”

  I’m totally thrown off by his question, and ramble through an answer. “Uh—well, the farmer’s market is opening today, so I was going to go wander around and see what inspires me.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

  “You want to go to a farmer’s market?”

  “Sure, why not?” he asks. “If we are going to live together this is what we will be doing, right?”

  I shrug. “I guess that’s true.”

  Living together.

  Hmm.

  I guess it is the normal thing to do, but it sounds weird as I let it sink in.

  The timer on the coffee pot chirps. It pulls me away from thoughts of constantly sharing a bathroom with a man…granted a very clean man…but still….

  James pours us big cups of coffee, and I pile a plate full of scones, grab a little container of jam out of the fridge, and follow him to the dining room. He reads through news articles on his phone, sometimes reading portions to me. I listen along but sometimes wonder why he thinks I would be interested in any of it. There’s a reason I don’t read or watch the news.

  Seventeen Car Pile-Up on I-5.

  New Superbug Could Be the End of Life As We Know It.

  Unemployment on the Rise.

  I mean, really?

  I should have more of an opinion, more to say, but I struggle to come up with something. It’s not that I don’t care. I just don’t feel like there is anything I can do about any of the world’s problems. Hell, I can barely make sense of my own life, let alone trying to tackle poverty, world hunger, or rid the world of bad drivers. Watching James pour over it like it’s life or death information mystifies me.

  With a final gulp, I drain my coffee mug and excuse myself to go get ready for the day. After the farmer’s market, I plan to meet up with Ashley for lunch. I can’t wait to reassure her that James and I are going to be fine after all. Just like I said.

  ***

  As we wander around the farmer’s market, James informs me that he will be busy the rest of the week at work but that he made reservations for the weekend to return to the scene of the crime for a re-do dinner. He suggests it as a chance to wipe the slate clean and start again. I agree, mostly because I want another piece of the chocolate cake, since I didn’t get to finish mine the first time.

  He helps me home with the groceries and then changes back into his suit. He adds a new tie from his gym bag, and rushes off to work with a quick kiss and a promise to call when he is finished for the day.

  I watch him drive off and then hurry to get ready to meet up with Ashley. We meet at our favorite lunch spot. We both order the soup and salad.

  “How’s the order coming?” I ask as we find a clean table to sit at.

  “Not as good as expected. I went to three stores yesterday and couldn’t get everything I needed. I actually have a favor to ask you. I know it’s your day off, but would you mind stopping and taking Maci out for a walk after this? I haven’t been home all day, and now I have to drive to Tacoma, so it will be awhile before I get back for the night. And you know how crazy she is with her routine.”

  Maci is Ashley’s golden retriever. She is totally adorable but also totally neurotic. The dog has an internal clock set with all her daily activities and if she doesn’t get what she wants, she tends to get very destructive. It’s ironic because Ashley completely lacks a schedule or routine; it’s more of a crazy dance through life. Secretly, I think Maci has helped her get things a little more stable. Kind of like a life coach…except she’s a dog.

  “Sure, not a problem. I was going to try to get out and walk anyways, since I had company this morning and didn’t get to my workout,” I agree, laughing.

  She shoots me a quizzical glance as our food is set before us. We both dive into our meals, but I catch her up on current events in between bites.

  “You know the weirdest thing?” I say. “I could have sworn I saw Brandon at the farmer’s market. But when I did a double take he was gone. It’s like he’s haunting me or something.” I make dramatic spooky noises accompanied by ghost-like hand gestures. Or at least what I imagine ghost hands would look like. I’ve never seen one.

  Ashley laughs but then cuts off. “Wait! I think I see him right now.”

  “Ghost Brandon?” I ask.

  “No! Real Brandon!”

  “That’s not funny. Be serious, Ash.” I roll my eyes.

  “No, I am being serious! Look,” she hisses, nodding towards the front windows of the restaurant. Sure enough, there he is, walking across the street.

  And heading in our direction!

  I panic, slurp down the rest of my soup, and proceed to stuff my whole roll into my mouth. I have no idea why.

  Ashley looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  Maybe I have…

  The door opens and he strides in. For a split second I consider diving under the table. Ashley, however, has other plans.

  “Hey! Brandon!” Ashley yells across the room, leaning out of her seat and waving to get his attention.

  He looks over just in time to watch me start to choke on my roll. I try to stop gagging and coughing, but the more I try to stifle it, the worse it gets.

  I’m going to kill Ashley.

  I start eying my fork, wondering if that would do the trick.

  “Hi Ashley, Charity,” he says, approaching our table with caution. “You okay?”

  His eyes pierce mine with concern. I sputter and take a large sip of water.

  It takes me a minute to speak and my voice sounds scratchy. “Yep, I’m great.”

  Ashley looks back at me and her eyes say it all. She’s pissed.

  I try to silently will her to keep it together, but it’s pointless. Ashley can be a bit of a bulldog when she gets fired up.

  “Having a nice visit?” she asks, her voice dripping with acidic sarcasm.

  Brandon looks like he’s trying to calculate how to step around an angry rattlesnake.

  Smart man.

  “Um, it’s been all right,” he answers.

  “It’s nice to see you, because I actually have a few things I would like to say,” she begins. “I would have said them in context of when things happened, but you ran away, as most cowards tend to do, and you never gave me the chance.” Her nostrils are practically flaring with each breath.

  Ouch.

  Is hiding under the table still an option?

  “I know that Charity has forgiven you for what you did, but I want you to know that what you did to her is unforgivable!”

  “I know it is,” Brandon says. He doesn’t look at Ashley when he says it. His eyes are still on me and my heart feels a sharp twist.

  Ashley stalls, her glance flicking between the two of us, and it seems like her anger gets swallowed up in the thickness of emotion of the room.

  I set my hand on her arm. “Ash, come on, it’s over.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll find another place to go,” he says. His eyes finally leave mine. “Ashley, I am sorry for what happened, and I want to thank you for being there for Charity during the fallout. Knowing you were there for her was a comfort to me.”

  Ashley still looks angry but also completely dumbfounded. Under any other circumstances, the look on her face would make me laugh out loud. But right now, it feels like nothing will ever be funny again. How could it bounce back after a moment like this?

  Brandon turns to leave without waiting for a reply, and we both sit there, watching the door swing shut in silence.

  After a few minutes, Ashley looks up at me expectantly.

  I stop her before she can even ask. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

&n
bsp; She nods and we go back to eating our lunch, although I mostly just find myself pushing the food around on my plate and stirring the lukewarm soup.

  Chapter Eleven

  Keys in hand, I head over to Ashley’s after our lunch to grab Maci for our walk. Ashley rents a small bungalow-style house, just a few blocks away from my townhouse. It’s an older house, but it’s big on vintage charm and she loves it. As I approach, I can hear Maci howling before I get both feet on the front steps.

  This is going to be an adventure. I already know from past experience that you have to be careful to walk Maci, and not let her walk you. She starts scratching at the door as soon as I insert the key, and when the door finally opens, she lunges out and flings herself at me, licking my face as I try to force her back down onto all four paws.

  It takes a lot of work, and a little swearing, but about a half an hour later we arrive at the nearby park where I like to go sometimes to think. It has a small green space and a few wooden benches by a long row of flower beds that make up a small community garden. On the other side, there is a basketball hoop and a half-court layout for the junior high- and high school-age kids. There’s also a small playground with a two-seater swing set for the younger ones.

  My favorite part has always been the small pond right in the center. I like to come here and watch the ducks and geese. Something about it is very soothing to me.

  Maci also likes the pond, but for entirely different reasons. She usually tries to get in the water and splash around.

  Today, she has spotted a duck and looks like she is trying to establish some sort of friendship. The duck just sits and watches as Maci barks and whines at it, getting close and then backing off and jumping around. She’s can’t seem to contain herself from trying to make everyone play with her, including water fowl.

  I guess she doesn’t realize that in another life, she would be the one sent to fetch dead ducks for her master on a hunting trip.

  I laugh as I watch her bounce around but hold tight to her leash. We stand on the bank of the pond for a long time as I let thoughts roll in and out of my mind. Some I keep and ponder on for a while, others I instantly push away. Normally my life is pretty calm, so this drama-filled week has been just about enough to do me in. It’s taking me a long time to process everything and untangle all my emotions.

  Eventually, I pull Maci back away from the water’s edge. It’s pretty chilly outside, and I want to get home before it gets dark.

  I start to turn away and give a slight tug on the leash, but Maci is still on a mission to get the duck and keeps pulling. I feel my heels sink into the soft ground at the edge of the water, and before I can steady myself she gives another sharp pull. I pitch forward and hit the ground, knees first, and yelp in pain and surprise. I land halfway in the pond and halfway in the mud.

  Maci turns at my despair and starts barking at me and licking my face. I curse under my breath and push her off me. My face, hair, hands, and arms are covered in pond water—which probably contains things I don’t even want to think about—and my jeans are covered in patches of mud, especially at the knees. I push off the ground and start to stand, slightly wobbly, when a pair of arms catches me from behind and hauls me the rest of the way out of the muck.

  I gasp and turn my head to see Brandon standing behind me.

  “Brandon! What are you doing here?” I push away, stabilizing myself. I make a grab for Maci’s leash and hold it tightly, firmly telling her to sit before starting to wipe at my face with my other hand. I can’t see my face, but it feels like I am only managing to spread the gunk further.

  Brandon laughs softly. “Saving you from the slow, torturous death of duck poop asphyxiation,” he says. Not even bothering to try and hold back his broad smile.

  One can only hope it’s good for the skin. A duck poop facial. I’m sure it’s all the rage somewhere in New York.

  In one fluid movement, he takes off his coat and wraps it around my shoulders before removing his button-up, flannel shirt, revealing a tight white T-shirt underneath. Without saying a word he steps closer and starts to use the shirt to wipe the mud from my face.

  I can feel the heat of his body, and I can’t bring myself to move. I don’t meet his eyes as he tends to me, but I don’t try to stop him or back up. My eyes are glued to his chest and biceps. Suddenly, I don’t trust myself not to touch him, so I cross my arms and tightly hold the edges of the coat to create a barrier between us and keep the jacket from slipping off my shoulders. He wipes gently, and we don’t speak for what is probably only a few moments, but it feels like hours.

  “Well that’s a little better.” He stops wiping but he doesn’t back up. I finally meet his gaze and another wave of heat rushes over me. “Ya know, I don’t remember you being such a catastrophe.” He smiles but there is still an edge of sadness in his eyes that I first saw at the café.

  “Well things change, I guess,” I say.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He takes a step back.

  There is a moment of chilly silence before he speaks again. “Is she yours?” He nods at Maci, who miraculously, is still sitting at my feet.

  “No, she’s Ashley’s. I was just taking her out because Ashley is busy today.”

  “Aha.” He nods again. Maci wags her tail as if she knows we are talking about her. “Do you have any pets? A dog?”

  We had always talked about getting a dog together, once we were married. Brandon had wanted a German shepherd and I’d wanted a Boxer. Once upon a time, we had our entire future planned out, and thinking about any part of that—no matter how small—is too painful.

  I change the subject, unwilling to answer further personal questions. “What are you really doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?” I ask.

  “I just needed some air, a little time to think,” he says.

  I see the flash in his eyes again and know there’s something he isn’t telling me. I know I shouldn’t care, shouldn’t be curious, but I somehow can’t help it.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, starting to regret my harsh tone and sarcasm from before.

  He drops his gaze to the ground between us and shakes his head. When he looks back up again there are tears forming in his eyes. “No, not really.”

  For a moment I feel like I am out of my body and have no control of my actions. Impulsively, I step forward and gently take his face in my hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my mom, she—she has cancer.” His voice breaks and a tear starts to slide down his cheek.

  I gasp softly, take the final step to close the gap between us, and wrap my arms tightly around him. His coat falls from my shoulders as he wraps his arms around me. He holds me so tightly that I feel like I can’t breathe, yet I don’t even care. He starts to shake as his sobs become louder. My own tears fall onto his shirt as I press my cheek into his chest. My fragile heart shatters at the full strength of his emotions.

  I don’t know how long we stay intertwined, but neither of us makes a move to separate.

  When we do finally part, I take his hand and lead him to the nearby bench. We sit facing each other and I take both of his hands in mine as he starts to explain everything to me.

  “I guess she was given the diagnosis a couple of weeks ago, but they didn’t want to tell me then, because I was still on set for my last project. They thought it would distract me from my work or that I would back out of the film. God, how selfish does that make me seem? They should have known this was obviously way more important.”

  I listen calmly, not wanting to interrupt in order to reassure him that they know how much he cares.

  “So, that’s why they wanted me to come home immediately after it finished. She is going to have a double mastectomy to try and get rid of it, and hopefully eliminate the chance of it coming back again.”

  I nod along as he explains, suddenly not really sure what to say. I have never known anyone with cancer. My grandparents are still around and, while aging, they are fairly healthy. It’s
hard to imagine the prospect of losing them, let alone one of my parents.

  “So, everyone is at my parents’ house to help out and be there for support. I really appreciate that they are all there, but it was feeling a little claustrophobic. I just needed to get out for a while.”

  “When is the surgery?” I ask, after a pause.

  “Next week.”

  “Wow. I’m so sorry that this is happening. You know how much I love your family.” I pause, trying to push away all the memories that are threatening to swallow me whole. “Your mom is strong though. If anyone can make it through this, you know that she can.” I offer a slight smile and a squeeze of his hands.

  “Yeah, I know. She will.” He returns my sad smile. “She has to. The ironic thing is that I left this town, to chase my dreams. I guess that I got everything that I wanted. I have the movie deals, the money, the fame. But here I am, and not all the money in the world can give me the things that I’m finding mean the most.”

  A long silence stretches out, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Brandon is staring off into space, his eyes are dry but red now, and he looks tired. I doubt he has been sleeping well since returning home and dealing with this emotional bomb on top of everything else.

  A pit forms in my stomach at the reminder that I’ve been causing him more pain in the middle of this struggle.

  I squeeze his hand tighter, as if to wordlessly apologize for adding to his grief. He returns the gesture, and his hands are so warm and comforting that I don’t want to let go.

  I realize that while lost in the moment, I’ve dropped Maci’s leash but when I look back towards the pond, I can see her laying at the edge of the water. The ducks seem to have gone back to their nests for the night. The sky is overcast and rapidly getting dark. I have no idea what time Ashley is supposed to get back, but I know I need to get Maci home and try to wash her off a little so that Ashley doesn’t have to deal with a dirty dog when she has a big jewelry project already looming over her.