Fast Glamour

by Maggie Marr

  “Seriously?” Rhett asked. He slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it with a silver Zippo. “You come to find me, and now you want to kick my ass? I would have thought Daddy’s money would have bought better psychological services than that. You got some seriously fucked-up shit going up there.” He tapped his temple.

  “We came here because we wanted to introduce ourselves. Because”—Amanda looked from Rhett’s eyes to mine and back to Rhett—“because we just found out about you. About your sisters, about our extended family.”

  Rhett took a long drag on his cigarette and a smile curled across his face. “Family? You’re not my family. You’re the kids my dad had with his wife.”

  “Right,” I said. I took two steps closer to the asshole that was my half-brother. “And you’re the kids our dad had with our housekeeper.”

  Rhett’s gaze slid from Amanda to me. The muscle in his jaw flinched and a cruel wicked curl took over his mouth and his eyes gleamed with anger. “That’s what you think? That’s what you want to believe? That’s all that my mother was to our father? Okay then, you don’t know Dad as well as I thought you did.” He tossed his cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out with his boot. “I’d go check in with Daddy Dearest, because the relationship with my mother is the one thing that’s been consistent in his life for the last twenty-seven years.”

  “What the hell are you trying to say?”

  “What I am saying that our father and my mother have been together since before your ass was born … and they’re still together. The way that they want to be.”

  My mouth dropped open. What the hell? I took two steps back. This was more than I could process. Dad had this entire other family but he was still involved with Anita? He kept his relationship with her after Mom died? After Mom found out? After he’d been married three more times?

  “What the hell?” I mumbled. I turned to Amanda and she looked as surprised as I did.

  “Could we”—Amanda started, her eyes flickered with the want that stemmed from the romantic idea of some Brady Bunch existence that she’d always wanted—“could we maybe try to get together? The five of us? Just us kids.” Her gaze went from me to Rhett. “I’d like to meet my sisters.” Her voice was soft and there was a true need in her eyes.

  The meanness in Rhett’s eyes dimmed for a millisecond as he seemed to relax with Amanda’s earnestness, and then the softening was gone. He hooked his finger into his jeans and stood taller. “There’s nothing I want from you two. Nothing I need. I know who I am. I have my own family.”

  Amanda swallowed. A look of pain passed through her eyes. I wanted to beat the shit out of this guy for making my little sister sad.

  “What is your problem?” I asked. “We haven’t done shit to you, except come here and introduce ourselves.”

  “Man, this is bush league. You ambushed me at my show. Then you come back here? What the hell did you expect? A family-fucking-reunion? I don’t know you! I don’t know her. The only thing I know is that you got more time with Dad than I ever did.”

  “You’re going to blame us for something our parents did? You’re going to be a complete asshole to me and Amanda because of them?”

  He looked over at me. “You got no reason to be pissed, man. You’re a Legend, and you always have been.” Rhett yanked open the back door and bolted into the club. We stood in silence under the bright fluorescent light.

  “That didn’t go well,” Amanda said.

  “What a dick.” I walked around the corner of the club toward the parking lot. Amanda walked beside me.

  She stopped. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Kidding? You liked that asshole?”

  “His behavior? Not so much. But, come on Sterling, think about it. Daddy has gone between two families for nearly three decades and he kept one of them completely secret. Wouldn’t you be a little bit pissed off if the tables were turned?”

  “But why is he mad at us? What the hell did I do? What the hell did you do? Other than be born to Dad?”

  I opened the car door for Amanda. “Seriously?” She cocked her eyebrow and stared at me. “That’s rich coming from you. The same guy who blames Rhiannon Bliss for every fuckup our parents made?” Amanda got into my car and pulled the door shut.

  My gut tightened. Like a punch to the belly, Amanda’s words sent me reeling. But the situation between Rhiannon and me was entirely different. Wasn’t it?

  “You’ve taken that whole summer and laid all that bullshit at Rhiannon’s feet.”

  “She left.”

  “She was fifteen, and she came back.”

  “But she didn’t tell me.”

  “Just like Daddy didn’t tell us?”

  “I’m not speaking to him either.”

  “She was a child. Her parents told her to leave and she left. Her mother told her not to tell and she didn’t. She came back, Sterling. She came back for you. And now you’re acting just like Rhett. Blaming Rhiannon for something she didn’t do and couldn’t control.” Amanda adjusted her seatbelt and looked straight out the window. “And if you don’t figure it out, you’re going to lose her again and this time it will be forever.”

  Chapter 24

  Sterling

  I turned my head and looked at the sea of faces that stood beside me, including Amanda and Dad. But where was Rhiannon? I needed to see her and to know that she was here. I needed to know that the safety of her arms waited for me. If I could just get through this. I wanted the service to be over so I could turn and walk away from the silver casket and be in Rhiannon’s arms.

  The horrible lump in my throat, the one that seemed like it would choke me to death, grew larger. My breathing shortened. I caught Gayle’s eye. She was alone. Why? Where were Tom and Maeve and Rhiannon? My heartbeat ratcheted upward. A thunder started in my ears and gripped at my head. I pulled my gaze away from Gayle. She wouldn’t look at me. The minister continued. I grasped Amanda’s hand. Tears streamed down her face and there was nothing he or anyone could say or do to make me or my sister feel better. Nothing. His words sounded dull. The pats on my shoulder, the hugs, the kind words all washed away in a sea of numbness.

  At the end of the service I walked over to Gayle, who stood with her arm around Amanda’s shoulders.

  “Where is Rhiannon?” I barely choked out the words, barely contained my need to see her and hold her and have her arms wrap around me. The only place that held any comfort for me these days was in Rhiannon’s arms.

  Gayle swallowed. She tightened her grip on Amanda. “Your father wants the two of you to come back to my house for a while.”

  I nodded. She’d avoided a direct answer to my question but I assumed I would see Rhiannon soon. I would stay at Gayle’s. Rhiannon would be there. Air entered my lungs, a thankful breath knowing that soon I would feel better. Not whole, how could this clutching sadness ever end? This loss was too deep, cut too close. But maybe, like always, Rhiannon’s arms, her mouth, her kiss, her eyes, would help me forget my pain.

  “She’s at home,” Gayle said. Her gaze faltered. I saw uncertainty beside the sadness. She’d just buried her best friend. Gayle closed her eyes for a second and then reopened them and fixed her gaze on me. “Rhiannon is in Dublin with her father and Maeve.”

  The roaring pulsed through my head. My heart thundered in my chest. No. Gayle couldn’t be right. I didn’t understand … How could Rhiannon be gone?

  “What? What do you mean? When did she leave? When are they coming back?”

  Amanda covered her face with her hands and turned away. Gayle stepped closer to me. She grasped my shoulders with her hands. “Sterling, the girls are going to school in England in the fall. They won’t be back … not for a while.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. The tears, the heat, the flat facial expression I’d worked so hard to maintain cracked, and the heat, the horrible heat of tears started to flood my eyes.

  “That’s not true,” I said. “Rhiannon would never leave wit
hout saying good-bye.”

  My heart ached with the memory. I didn’t often let my mind wander to that summer, the summer Mom died, the summer I lost Rhiannon, the summer I didn’t want to go on. There was a deep dark hole in my soul just after the funeral, a hole I tried my damndest to fill with parties, and girls, and late nights. Gayle had clutched me back by the collar and yanked me from the abyss. But she didn’t have to. She could have been angry with Mom and Dad and turned her back on Amanda and me, but she didn’t. And now, seven years later, it hit me. It occurred to me what might have happened if Rhiannon had lived in Gayle’s house, too. The whole thing would have been a Shakespearean tragedy waiting to happen.

  Gayle was strong and brave and kind. She’d sent her two children away, somewhere safe, where they could become strong women, while she tended to two motherless children. There could have been much more pain, many more recriminations, if at fifteen and seventeen Rhiannon and I had lived in Gayle’s house together. I clutched my hand to my jaw. Gayle’s decisions had been hard, but wise. Rhiannon might have thought she’d chosen to leave at fifteen, but she hadn’t. Her parents had sent her to Dublin.

  Amanda was right. I blamed Rhiannon for choices our parents had made. Gayle and Tom and Mom and Dad had chosen not to tell us about Rhett and Ellen and Sophia. Rhiannon had done what her mother had asked. I closed my eyes. Did I blame her? Could I blame her?

  I clenched my jaw. Losing Rhiannon and my mother hurt. It was pain that fucking gutted me. I bent over and grabbed my hips with my hands. One had died and the other had left; both had abandoned me. There had been nothing left back then. Amanda was swallowed by her own grief. Dad disappeared with women and booze. I was alone.

  And alone had become a habit.

  Not letting myself feel the depth of my love for Rhiannon, then punishing her for things beyond her control acted like a stone wall to protect my heart. Long deep breaths filled my lungs. My insides felt hollowed out from the pain, from the memory, from the loss. I didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

  I stood up and looked into the mirror. Fear punched me in the gut. Fear of losing Rhiannon again. Fear of waking up to find her gone. Fear of filling my heart with love for another person and having them die or leave or abandon me. Fear.

  “Fuck fear.”

  I couldn’t build my future on the fears from my past, the fear over what might happen and how and when. Life went by quickly and it could end suddenly. This I knew.

  I pulled on my T-shirt and jeans. I thought I was tough and solid and righteous in my anger with Rhiannon. But I hadn’t been. I had been unpleasant and afraid. My anger at her was misdirected pain over loss and lies and hurt from long ago. Hurt that I needed to let go of. Hurt that I needed to end so that I could move forward and have the life I wanted. A life with Rhiannon.

  Rhiannon

  “How did Sterling react when you two met Rhett?”

  Amanda shook her head. I glanced from her to Maeve. She took another french fry from the plate on the table between them.

  “Sterling was an ass,” Amanda said. She took a long slow sip of her milkshake. “They both were. Seriously, it was like watching two caged dogs. I mean, I get it, Rhett was surprised and Sterling was angry.”

  “Why is Sterling so angry?” Maeve broke in. “I mean, I get why he’d be angry with your Dad and even our Dad and maybe your Mom, but why is he angry with everyone else?”

  “I think it’s because the anger gives him something to focus his pain on. I remember that summer after Mom died and you guys left, he wasn’t himself. I don’t think we ever got back the Sterling from before. He just … the loss changed him. It’s as if he has to protect himself and me. I think he uses that anger to keep from getting close, because if he doesn’t get too close then he can’t get too hurt.” Amanda put her cup on the table. “Does that make any sense?”

  “Lots,” Maeve said. She leaned back on the lounge chair on Mama’s deck.

  I understood what Amanda said. She was right, but her words didn’t stop the ache of loss that drifted through me. I hadn’t spoken to Sterling in weeks, not since he’d told me that we couldn’t be together.

  “Did your Dad leave?” Amanda asked.

  I shook my head no. “He’s heading back to Dublin next week,” I said.

  “Is he staying here?”

  “They’re boinking like teenagers,” Maeve said. “It’s utterly disgusting.”

  “I know exactly what that’s like. Now imagine it was your high school friend that your father was sleeping with.” Amanda shuddered and put a fry into her mouth.

  “That was crazy,” Maeve said. “When I heard about that wedding I just couldn’t fathom your father marrying Kiley.”

  “Kiley is insane,” Amanda said. She looked at me. “Sterling still wants to cast her in Mom’s role in The Lady’s Regret?”

  “He can’t put Kiley in that role,” I said. “I know he’ll lose the script if he doesn’t, but he’ll lose so much more if he does.”

  “I don’t know,” Amanda said. “He seems pretty damned determined to do this his way no matter who Kiley will upset. I told him I don’t want the film made with Kiley in that role, but he won’t listen. Dad will completely cut Sterling out of his life if he casts Kiley. The film will end up a mess. Sterling is so stubborn.”

  “No kidding,” Maeve said. She reached for her glass of wine and tilted it to her lips. “He’s worse than Papa.”

  “Have you spoken to Sterling?” Amanda asked.

  My heart fluttered. “You mentioned that stubborn streak?” I said.

  Amanda’s smiled the tiniest bit. “You know, he’s always at his best when he’s with you. I don’t know if he knows that yet, but he is. He is happiest and calmest, and kindest. You seem happier with him, too.”

  A flush burst up over my skin. “I love him,” I said. “I’ve loved him since I was a girl. Nothing will change that. Not even him being angry with me for reasons that I can’t control and don’t completely understand. I suppose I’ll always love him.”

  The feelings in my chest rolled through my body. A tightness unwound by simply saying the truth—that I loved Sterling.

  “Her next series is an homage to your brother,” Maeve said.

  “Stop,” I said. “It’s two paintings, not a series and it’s no homage, it’s just what I need to paint.”

  “Can I see them?” Amanda asked.

  I took a long breath. I wouldn’t have shown the paintings to Maeve if we weren’t both staying at Mama’s and she took it upon herself to come in and out of the guest house whenever she pleased.

  “I suppose,” I said. I didn’t want to show Amanda. But how could I not? She was my childhood friend, almost a sister, and the paintings were of a man that we both dearly loved.

  “Come on,” I said and stood from the lounger on Mama’s back deck. “Let’s go look at them now.”

  Chapter 25

  Sterling

  “If you’ve come back to beg for the rights to The Lady’s Regret, you might as well save yourself the heartache,” Tom said.

  I looked around the living room of Gayle’s house, the place that had been a safe haven for me and Amanda. I looked from Gayle, who sat on the sofa with a book in her hand, to Tom, who stood just inside the front door. Their lives hadn’t turned out as they’d expected.

  “No,” I said. My gaze went from Tom to Gayle. “I’ve come to say thank you.”

  Gayle leaned forward and settled her book over the arm of the couch. Tom’s stiffness deflated with my words. He took two steps back and his shoulders drooped as though he didn’t know how to react without his anger to hold him upright.

  “Sterling? Is everything okay?”

  A smile opened wide on my face. A smile from deep inside me that replaced my anger and my loss and burst out with the simple pleasure of acknowledging the sacrifices Gayle had made for me.

  “Everything is fine.” I settled on the chair across from Gayle. Tom stood to my left, unwilling or u
nable to get closer. I wasn’t sure but, right now, it didn’t matter. Right now I was here for Gayle.

  “I don’t know how you did it,” I said. “I don’t know if I could have done what you did for me and Amanda. You sent your girls away and took care of us. And after what happened with my mother—”

  Gayle reached out her hand and clasped mine. “That was no fault of yours. You two were the children of my best friend. My love for you and Amanda”—her glance went from me to Tom—“and for my own family never changed.” A small smile trickled across her face. “Time can heal most wounds, but time alone doesn’t raise children.” She patted my knee. “I did what I needed to do and I did it not only for you and Amanda, I also did it for me.”

  “I never knew,” I said. “Everything that happened that summer. I didn’t understand. I blamed Rhiannon and you and everyone for her leaving. Now—” I looked up and met her gaze. “Now I see what you did, the sacrifice you made, and I need to say thank you.”

  “Oh, Sterling, life gives us such difficult choices to make.” The corners of her lips pulled down though her eyes remained soft with empathy. “We do the best that we can and forgive any transgressions from the ones that we love.”

  I nodded. I turned to Tom. He stared at Gayle. Confusion and pain and remorse careened across his face. He’d made choices, he and my mother, that were selfish and unkind. I doubted, if he could go back in time, to the yellow house in Montecito, that he’d make the same choices now. I stood. “I need to apologize to Rhiannon,” I said.

  Gayle’s eyes flickered from me to Tom.

  “She’s not here.”

  My pulse quickened. How could I lose what I desperately wanted now that I was finally ready to give the love in my heart?

  “Did she …?” My eyes flicked from Tom to Gayle. “Did she go back to Paris? Where is she?” I tried to keep my voice calm, but a panic edged through my gut. Had I lost Rhiannon again?