Loved In Pieces (The Intentions Series)

by Carla J Hanna

  I responded, “We know that, right?”

  Carlos shook his head. “Manny didn’t know who you were at your birthday party. It makes him insecure. Now you’re not well.” He looked at Liz and touched her cheek. “We were there, too. I lost my true love, was too late when I figured it out, and thought about her every day. Liz accepted me, forgave me. I was lucky.”

  Liz added, “Our worlds seemed incompatible. I thought he was a liar, traveling non-stop, calling me drunk from parties and telling me he loved me and missed me. It’s lonely to love a performer.”

  “People were always around me, telling me what to do, what to wear, what to say. I’d see Liz between shows and, every time, the sparkle in her bright eyes and the power of her kiss struck me. I lost myself on tour. I had to quit.”

  I knew all that. I didn’t party. I wouldn’t let Manuel down. Oh, I kissed Bryon and probably have a tumor.

  Carlos continued, “But you kids are not us. Marie can’t quit. She will get into situations where your love will be tested. Manny must love the actress. She’s the same person in a different role. As your worlds come together, Manny will see new things and be tested, too.”

  Manuel squeezed my hand.

  I slouched, not knowing what to say.

  Carlos smiled, “Please talk about it together. We understand and can help. So can Tom and Michelle. It’s not just about one person losing his innocence, catching up to the other. Don’t try to do this alone.”

  Manuel and I nodded our heads to them awkwardly and left for the lab.

  ~ | ~ GROWTH

  Dr. Jack looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

  “Hi Jack. This is my boyfriend, Manuel. You met him the first day.”

  “Thanks for not calling the police.”

  “Yeah, that was over-the-top. I was so angry, so sad,” Manuel explained.

  “I felt the same way. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit down.” Dr. Jack looked at his notes, the lab results and his computer for a minute. I noticed how very good-looking he was. There was something gorgeous about him mixed with the goofiness of an intellectual. He had both confidence and insecurity at the same time. He was not a macho forty-something-year-old like Carlos or Dad. He knew who he was, certainly, but didn’t know he was handsome. Perhaps he didn’t care.

  He looked at me earnestly, like he was trying to size up my emotional strength, not knowing what to say. “Would you like me to get right to the point? Should I talk to your dad first? Maybe get him on the speaker phone?”

  I honestly answered, “Please tell me straight. I can handle it now.”

  He looked sad when he started talking. I imagined the sadness was that he had children of his own and wouldn’t want to tell his son the news without himself present to help him deal with it. “So, you do have a large pituitary tumor, over one centimeter, a macroadenoma. I don’t know what kind of damage the tumor is causing, but your sex hormones are functioning again. Given that your menses resumed in less than just 2 months from when you stopped taking x-nib, I want to remove the tumor as soon as possible. I’m afraid that if we don’t remove it now, then it will cause permanent damage as your hormones continue to function.”

  Manuel instantly shifted his weight. His eyes were intense. “Isn’t the pituitary gland in the middle of the brain and really small? How would you remove a tumor on it? It must be the size of what, a pea?” Manuel asked.

  “We go in through the back of the inside of the nose and through the sphenoid bone. It’s called endoscopic transsphenoidal surgery and adenoma removal.” He wrote it down and slid the paper to us. “I would like to biopsy the tumor to make sure it’s benign. I’d like a neurosurgeon at Stanford Hospital to do the surgery, Dr. David Chang. I’d like to do it next week. I’m confident in the surgeon, but there are always risks. I want to act quickly because the autopsy of CSY2 showed severely damaged tissues of the pituitary gland. Right now, David knows that your tumor is large enough for a successful extraction without damaging the gland.”

  I was not freaked out at all, finally. “Yeah, let’s get it out of my brain as soon as possible. Please send me info to read, to be prepared. Schedule everything for next week.”

  “Okay. Tell your parents. I’ll email everything to you and your dad. I still see your mom on Sunday. I’ll discuss everything with her. Okay. I better get busy.” Dr. Jack smiled and stood up to tell us the meeting was over. I shook his hand. I gently pulled Manuel off his chair. He obviously needed more convincing than I did.

  “Thanks for taking care of me, Dr. Jack. Tell your son I said, ‘Hi and thanks. Thanks a lot for helping me through this.’ Your son is really nice.”

  We left the lab in silence, holding hands. Manuel hugged me before we drove off on his scooter. It was nice not having to talk. He stopped on the way home at my favorite bakery.

  He explained, “You deserve another treat today. I know you want to run the stairs because of the donut, but you should have a pretzel croissant given that you’re having your period and I know girls like treats when they are having their period. I still want to get married, but we should talk about it when you heal.”

  I agreed, “True. I want to eat forbidden foods and kiss you all the time. I don’t want to have to plan a wedding with brain surgery stress. Besides, I saw your parents’ expressions. They’re not going to support us getting married.”

  “No, they’re not,” he agreed. “But we need to live, enjoy our time being together.”

  I felt it, too. I wanted to live and felt that my days were numbered so I best enjoy them. I added, “I love you. All the time, you know.”

  “I do know that, thanks. I’m here for you through all of this, all of it. And I love you all the time, my best friend. Can I go to Stanford Hospital with you?”

  “Thanks, yes. Sage will arrange the flights.”

  He kissed my hand and wiped his eyes. We walked to the bakery. “Is it okay if I talk to my parents about all this? I need their support.”

  “Claro, just not Janet. We need to keep this a secret, especially since Michelle is involved. Keeping it a secret is too much responsibility to put on Janet.”

  Manuel dropped me off when we got back to my house. It was just noon. I wanted to email CSY6 and research the surgery to extract the tumor. I had the feeling Manuel was going to do the same after he talked to his parents.

  By the time I ran the stairs, I had consumed over 1,000 calories from one donut and one pretzel croissant. I worked out for one hour, only burning 400 calories but at least I burned some. Unfortunately, my lungs burned, too. I wasn’t feeling very well.

  Michelle, Dad and Celia were around the dining room table, sharing a bottle of chardonnay, when I returned from my run. Celia was as warm as ever. Dad glared at Michelle. It was early evening and the colors in the canyon were beginning to change. They all hugged me.

  “I want to chat after my shower.” I asked, “Are we going out to dinner or can we all stay home? It’ll be a lovely sunset.”

  “We can stay home,” Michelle answered. “I’ll start something in the kitchen.”

  I felt much better after my shower. I just wanted to get the announcement over with but I didn’t know how to start. “Do you mind if I have a glass of wine, too?” I asked Dad’s permission.

  “Just one,” he answered while his eyes welled up.

  Michelle poured me a glass. Dad shot her piercing looks of hate. I probably did, too.

  “One or none. That is what I live by, Dad.” I took a sip of wine and sat down.

  “How was your day, Liana Marie?” Michelle started calling me Liana Marie as a peace offering. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  Well, this was as good of a time as any. “Incredible, great, yummy, horrible, dreadful, great, good—in that order.” Michelle, Celia and Dad looked at each other like I was an immature teenager. I chuckled again. I was a teenager.

  “Alright. Incredible: Manuel and I made love and I had my first O.” Celia and Dad exchanged shocked, disappr
oving looks. I didn’t care. “Great: my period started. I’m so happy! Since I can menstruate, I can have babies. So I want to marry Manuel this summer.” All three shifted in their chairs with wide eyes. Dad looked like he had forgotten to breathe. “Yummy: I had my first Krispy Kreme donut.” They all laughed, but Dad was still trying to recover from my first point. “Horrible: I met with Dr. Jack because my period started. It’s official. I have an ‘endocrine-inactive tumor’ on my pituitary gland that will cause permanent tissue damage if it is not removed.” They all slouched, but I didn’t look at them and continued. “Dreadful: I agreed to go to Stanford next week and have the tumor removed from, like, the center of my brain. Great: Manuel bought me a pretzel croissant. Good: I had a good run to the stairs, down to the canyon, and back.”

  Of course, I finished speaking and then went to pieces. I had lost the energy to keep any of my jigsaw puzzle together. I was wrecked. I had absolutely nothing left. I knew it was now up to them to put me back together.

  ~ | ~ GRADUATION

  It was Saturday, time for the graduation ceremony. I was happy to be going and didn’t take any time at all to get ready. I wore minimal makeup, just enough to look good in family photos. I didn’t expect photographers to be present, just my fan club regulars. Most photographers were professionals and a graduation photo would not be worth any money. Except for weddings or birthday parties, there are few photos of happy events that sold magazines. People wanted to see the actor fail more than see her succeed. Perhaps people liked weddings because celebrity marraiges almost always failed. Perhaps they liked birthday parties because celebrities inevitably aged, wrinkled, and then resorted to plastic surgery or x-nib.

  Manuel and I kissed and hugged before we separated to find our places in the alphabetically ordered procession. Mitch was up front. He would be giving the Valedictorian’s speech and would be seated on the stage. I looked for my family during the procession and waved wildly to them when I saw where they were seated. I listened to the speakers, but mostly looked at the printed program and the huge number of individuals listed with asterisks next to their names, symbolizing their accomplishment of graduating with honors or high honors. It was many more than I had possibly imagined, close to half the class. I was sad that I did not have an asterisk next to my name until it dawned on me that, instead, I had an Oscar for Best Actress. I chuckled to myself at the absurdity.

  I looked up when I heard Mitch’s voice. He looked calm, handsome, confident and imperious, but more like a politician than a preacher. I had a glimpse of his future. Damn, this guy was going to law school and will be the President of the United States someday. I missed the introduction and started listening:

  “…You always make choices. You come to a crossroads, you make a choice. You order a burger—supersize it, you make a choice. Most choices are easy, based on what you want. Some choices are more difficult, mostly because you don’t know what you want, you haven’t thought it through or didn’t know that you needed to think it through.

  I’m your valedictorian not because I’m smarter than you, but because I knew what I wanted when I was in eighth grade and I chose the classes that would put me on the path that would get me what I wanted. I had stability in my life so I could stick to my path. I was lucky. But what would have happened if my wants had changed? What if something happened in my life that altered my course? Could I have changed course? Could I have been flexible? Would I be before you today?

  I stopped listening. It was impossible not to reflect on Mitch’s choices. He started high school knowing how to maximize his GPA so he could get into a top university. His family gave him the stability to achieve his goal. His mom planned his schedule. Where would he be now if he had leukemia, if his parents had divorced, if he had burned out? What if he liked doing drugs or was a player? Mitch was very smart but also understood that he was lucky. Unlike me, he was not sitting around feeling sorry for himself that his parent made many of the choices for him to try to get him a good career. He was not bitter. He embraced his future.

  We all had to make decisions and live with the consequences of those decisions. Our attitudes influenced how we perceived the situations, as opportunities or threats. It was about context and perception. We have to do only a few things. We choose to do all others. What we want to do motivates our choices. His parents had been together for twenty-five years, since they dated in high school. They wanted to live a happy life together so they chose to do so, even though it was not easy at times. They did not have a marriage of bliss, certainly, but one of unity. Mitch often complained that the Santa Monica culture focused on short-term wants that drove people’s impulsive actions, resulting in unfortunate consequences. If people just exerted some energy to control their desires and thought through the consequences of their actions, there would be more happy marriages—or a lot fewer marriages in the first place. Sometimes we have good intentions and think through the long-term consequences, but our lives still get messed up.

  I sat there with thoughts whirling around in my head. I started high school as a child actor. My career soared, I had already made twenty movies, starred in seven, been nominated for two Oscars. I won for Best Actress in a Leading Role. I won tons of industry awards as well. I already achieved what every actor wanted to achieve. I didn’t really go to Samohi. I didn’t know most of the people sitting around me. Michelle made me become an actor. Dad made me become a high school student even though I already had my GED. Of course I didn’t choose my path. I was just a kid. So who cares about my agency in the past? I needed to choose what I wanted for myself in my future. How did I want to enrich my life and the lives of others around me?

  I needed to embrace my life, quit the whining, and understand my strengths. I was a good actor but, more so, I was a product with power.

  I was not the fly in the spider’s web. I was the web and the spider and the fly and the force keeping the web strong and in place.

  I prayed silently, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”

  I knew that my future involved being an actor. I had not achieved everything I could achieve as an actor. I was at the beginning of my capabilities. I could do some really important work, change lives, and move people to action. I could improve my life and the lives of others. I was in control now with all my work running through Marie Michael Productions. I was my own boss. I was in a good situation to work on my own terms and gain weight. Thank God I didn’t renew my contracts. I now had the freedom to be a reclusive, talented actor. Cool.

  Lost in thought, the student next to me nudged me to get up. We were getting in line to get our diplomas.

  I could marry Manuel, have kids, and work in the area. He could go to school, do both his undergrad and graduate studies at UCLA or USC close by. We’d have a perfect life.

  I walked back to my seat with my diploma with a smile on my face and the courage to embrace my uncertain future with Manuel and my career.

  ~ | ~ MY EDUCATION

  My graduation party was at my favorite restaurant on Wilshire Boulevard. The restaurant was small, so I rented it out for the evening. I invited my family, Manuel’s family, Beth’s family, Richard’s family, Ira since Alan was with his mom for a celebration dinner, Franz, Evan and Renee, Attila, Elise and Sage. It was an intimate celebration.

  We all had a great time. We laughed as Ira told his ridiculous stories. We acknowledged Manuel’s achievements. We teased Liz and Carlos, wondered how on earth they raised Manuel, such a smart and wholesome guy. We praised Beth for her academic and athletic accomplishments. Michelle, Renee, and Evan welcomed Beth’s mom into our elite club. I welcomed Beth into my world, too. They all praised me for becoming a strong woman and challenging myself at such a young age to make tough choices.

  I saw Ira talk to the restaurant owner and noticed that the wait staff disappeared. I knew it was performance time.

  Richard added a toast.
“Marie, you’re an outstanding professional actor and are wise well beyond your years. Your portrayal of Muse has overwhelmed the world, and we are all being paid quite handsomely for it.”

  Everyone laughed and raised their glasses. Richard gestured that he wanted to say more.

  “In addition to your SAG award, Oscar for Best Actress, and People’s Choice Favorite Movie Actress and Favorite Star Under 25, I’m also happy to announce that Jefferson’s Muse is nominated for both MTV’s and Teen Choice Best movie, Best Female Performer, and Best Kiss.”

  Everyone clapped. He continued, “Won’t that be your third year in a row for Best Kiss, Marie?” I nodded and winked at Evan. Everyone laughed, except Manuel. “Well done, Marie. Thank you so much for your hard work and excellence. To our next Guinevere!”

  “Guinevere?” I questioned, confused.

  “The audience and critics like triangles. They loved Muse as an American Indian slave, Thomas Jefferson, and an African American slave—the tension, the possibilities. But we’re going Caucasian next time. So we decided to do Camelot’s Muse as Guinevere, King Arthur and Lancelot—another blockbuster, certainly! Pocahontas and Cleopatra will be perfect for our first TV episodes.” He hoped.

  Ugh. Heavy costuming. Cleavage. Lots of makeup to make me pale. Two co-stars again. The kissing. I had Manuel now. It would be different. I had rules to follow now. Rules would make it easier. But would Manuel be able to handle it? Oh, I was the boss, now. I could insist on Evan as Lancelot and sweet Blake for King Arthur. I grinned at Evan. He winked in return. Cool. TV episodes? I hoped not.