by Dahlia Adler
* * * * *
I’d planned to go to set straight from school the following afternoon as per my typical Wednesday schedule, but Van texted me during lunch to ask me to run a few errands for her and drop by the set later. Since several of the errands involved making flight and hotel reservations online, I headed home to use my own computer and maybe even get my French homework done before I ventured out to the dry cleaners to pick up a dress Vanessa planned to wear to some event she’d just decided to go to.
Or maybe I should just save the French homework for Liam, I thought as I pulled out of the Hayden High parking lot. He’d been progressing at a rapid pace, obviously putting his actorly skills of memorizing lines and learning accents to good use, and I was curious to see just how good he was.
And, okay, it’s possible I liked the idea of spending more time with him. I mean, he obviously wasn’t hideous, and it was nice teaching someone who actually cared about learning. Plus, I had to admit that he’d introduced me to some damn good movies. And he always ordered really good takeout. And yeah, he was actually fun to hang out with, once you got him off set and into the comfort of his own home. And he definitely—
Honk!
Whoops—time to focus. L.A. drivers had no patience for girls who didn’t watch carefully for light changes and developed ridiculous little crushes on guys who were way, way out of their league.
Kinda hard to blame them. I didn’t have much patience for my ridiculous feelings either.
I was home less than ten minutes later and surprised to see Lucy sitting on the sectional in the living room, her feet dangling from the couch, her eyes glued to the TV. I hadn’t seen my mother’s car out front.
“Luce?” I closed the front door behind me and dropped my bag onto the kitchen counter. “Is Mom home?”
“Aunt Joanne’s,” Lucy answered dully.
“Why’s she at Aunt Joanne’s?”
Lucy shrugged.
“Are you home alone?” Lucy was never home alone. My parents’ rule had always been that we weren’t allowed to stay home alone until high school. Leaving her by herself for anything short of an emergency was unheard of, and if my mom’s sister was having an emergency, we’d know it. Aunt Jo was the queen of blowing issues out of proportion; when she had a hangnail, we all got “911” texts.
“Yup.”
Something was seriously wrong. It must’ve been. “Did something happen to Dad?”
“Nope. He just called to check in a few minutes ago.”
“So they just…decided to let you stay home alone?”
“Yup.”
“Ooookay.” I grabbed an apple from the fridge before slinging my bag back onto my shoulder and heading for the stairs. Only when I got up to my bedroom door did it hit me that my little sister hadn’t looked at me once.
* * * * *
I decided to give Lucy a little space; she was growing up, and maybe a little time with her own thoughts was exactly what she needed. I needed about an hour to deal with Van’s errands anyway, but when I finished up and returned downstairs, it seemed Lucy hadn’t moved an inch. Growing up or not, I couldn’t ignore her weirdness anymore.
“Luce?” I hedged. “Is everything okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
I sucked in a breath. Lucy was the sweetest, most overactive kid you could ever hope to meet. Something was clearly wrong here, and it was equally clear she didn’t want to talk about it. Unfortunately, I still had to get to the dry cleaners and a whole bunch of other places—including the Daylight Falls set—and I didn’t have time to sit around and try to coax information out of an ten-year-old. I could, however, prevent her from making a permanent butt imprint on the couch.
“Want to help me run some errands for Vanessa?”
“Run errands?” Lucy sounded like I’d asked her if she wanted to play with some gum from the bottom of my shoe.
“Some of them are fun,” I promised. “She wants me to pick something up for her from Sephora—I’ll buy you a yummy lip gloss if you keep me company. Plus, the dry cleaners are right near Pinkberry.”
I wasn’t sure exactly which one lured her off the couch, but I got a tiny smile and a practically whispered “okay” before she turned off the TV and joined me. I couldn’t help giving her a spontaneous little kiss on the top of her pale blond head before grabbing the keys and shuffling her out the door.
Despite agreeing to go with me, she remained quiet, keeping her eyes on the scenery as we drove and answering my chatty questions with one-word answers. Even a scoop of mango yogurt with gummy bears failed to do the trick; she simply ate it in silence outside the store while I went into the dry cleaners to pick up Vanessa’s dress.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled up in front of the house to drop her off before going to set and put the car in park.
“Luce, talk to me,” I begged, turning to face her.
“About what?”
“About whatever’s on your mind and obviously bothering you.”
She continued to sit stone still, staring straight ahead, but a lone tear rolled down her cheek and it broke my heart.
“Did something happen at school?” I asked softly, afraid to find out what sort of situation I might be dealing with.
She shook her head, and more tears followed the first.
“Did you get into a fight with one of your friends? Did Abby say something to hurt your feelings again?” Stupid Abby—she was the worst of Lucy’s friends, with a horrible mom to match.
“No,” she said softly. She sniffled.
“Then what’s going on?” I kept my voice as soft as possible; I couldn’t shake the feeling that a loud noise or sudden movement might actually break my sister at that moment.
Finally, she turned to face me. “What’s it gonna be like when Daddy dies?”
I should’ve expected that question. I don’t know why it shocked the hell out of me, but it did. And despite the fact that I knew I should’ve had some answer, that I should’ve thought through this very same question from the minute my dad informed us of his diagnosis, I hadn’t. It was just too much to think about, the after. Too scary. Too real. I had no desire to know what life would be like without my dad, and I sure as hell didn’t want my ten-year-old sister to know. I didn’t even like to know she’d been thinking about it, which was probably why my mind hadn’t gone to the obvious question in the first place.
So, trying to hide the fact that I was shaking as I gave her a hug, I simply said, “It’s going to be sad, but we’re going to stick together.” I prayed that she wouldn’t ask exactly how we planned to do that when we were three thousand miles apart.
8
I WAS STILL FEELING RATTLED BY Lucy’s question when I entered the studio half an hour later, laden down with bags of Van’s requested items. Rattled and angry—at myself for not anticipating it, at my parents for not being the ones to handle it, at Lucy for making me think about it… Suddenly, all I wanted was to throw Van’s stuff at her and run back to my house so I could curl up into a ball in my bedroom and never, ever leave.
Fortunately, Van was in mid-scene when I arrived, so I did in fact get to leave her things in her trailer without having a conversation, but I hadn’t counted on bumping into Liam on my way out.
“Bonjour, mon amie!” The corner of his mouth lifted just enough to show that rarely seen dimple, and the mere sight of it improved my mood instantly, if only for a moment. “Are you heading out already?”
“Yeah, I just…” I trailed off, my brain completely devoid of excuses why I was dashing to my car like a bat out of hell. “I gotta go.”
“Is everything okay?”
No, everything is not okay. My father is dying, and I seem to keep getting distracted from that fact. “Yeah, great. I just…”
“Gotta go,” he filled in for me.
“Right.”
He nodded, but he made no motion to leave. I am too polite to call you out on the fact that you are feeding me complete bul
lshit right now was written all over his face, and I gritted my teeth as I felt the first pangs of annoyed anger building. How dare he look at me like that? What the hell did he know about what I was going through?
And then I realized: pretty much everything. Everything that really mattered, anyway. How had I somehow failed to note that, of all the people in my life, Liam was the only one who’d been in this situation? Who’d watched a beloved parent slowly waste away while feeling utterly useless and incapable of doing anything to help?
“Okay,” he said slowly. “So I guess—”
“Tell me what happens,” I begged, suddenly desperate for him to stay and talk to me.
He furrowed his brow. “In this episode?”
I shook my head. “In life,” I said, my voice raspy as the familiar fuzzy-throat feeling of oncoming tears surfaced. “What happens when one of your parents dies?”
“Oh, Ally…” He raked a hand through his hair. He must’ve had product in it from an earlier scene because it stuck up in tufts, the natural gold highlights glinting in the setting sun. “I can’t—I mean, I don’t—”
“Forget it,” I said quickly. “It was lousy of me to ask.”
I turned and walked briskly toward my car, the breeze my pace was creating blowing the rapidly flowing tears from my cheeks. It took me a full minute of fumbling with my keys to get the driver’s-side door open; neither my shaking hands nor my blurry eyes were very helpful on that front. When I finally did manage to slip inside and slam the door behind me, I put my keys down on the center console and gripped the steering wheel, gulping in deep breaths in an effort to calm myself before starting the car.
A tapping on the passenger door made me jump up in my seat. I glanced over. Liam.
Reluctantly, I unlocked the door and watched him slide inside. “I’m fine,” I said before he could open his mouth.
“I see that.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you that.”
“Yeah, you should have.” He set and unset his jaw a couple of times before speaking again. “Having no one to talk about it with when it was happening was really, really shitty. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t turn to anyone. I just don’t want to be the person who tells you how much it sucks.”
I nodded slowly. “Well, I can definitely understand that, seeing as I don’t want to be the one who tells my baby sister that, either.”
“I wish I could advise on siblings, but sadly, they are not my area of expertise.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes or make me feel better. We were both quiet for a minute, and then he said, “Ask again.”
“I don’t want to dredge up bad memories,” I said, feeling guilty for my selfishness earlier. “Of course you don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, actually, I kind of do,” he admitted. “No one ever asks me about it, about her. And, come to think of it, no one ever comes to me with their problems either. It’s sorta…nice.”
I couldn’t help but smile, even as I sniffled loudly and wiped away a mess of tears with the heel of my palm. “So you like that I’m a bawling mess?”
“Love it,” he replied with a smile of his own, a real one this time. He reached out and wiped a tear off my cheek with his thumb. The touch of his skin against mine nearly had me jolting out of my seat. I bit my lip, hard, as if that would keep me in place. “Ask again,” he repeated.
“What’s it like?” I whispered, feeling calmer now.
“It sucks.”
And then we both cracked up. It wasn’t funny by any stretch of the imagination, but it was as if both of us had been waiting for this worldly insight that just never came. When our laughter finally petered out, he fixed me with as earnest a look as he was able to manage and said, “Jesus, I’m sorry. I thought I’d be more eloquent than that.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re not wrong,” I pointed out. “But does it suck every minute of every day? Or does it suck a lot at the beginning and then become sort of okay? And what does it mean for my family? Do I have to learn how to become a second parent to Lucy? How’s my mom going to handle everything? She can barely handle things now—I always feel like she’s two seconds away from falling apart, like she’s already checked out of parenting. And will she remarry? Oh God, that would be so strange. I can’t even imagine her with anybody else. Would he move into my house, or would we have to move? Will he expect me to call him ‘Dad’? What if—”
“Ally!” Liam grabbed my forearm, which I’d been waving around wildly while the multitude of questions
I hadn’t even known I had bubbled out of my throat. “Take a deep breath, okay?” I did. “One thing at a time.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Haven’t you… I mean, is this the first time you’re thinking about it?”
“Of course not. It’s just that lately I’ve been so focused on the immediate future, the college part and stuff, that I haven’t really been thinking about the long-term. I mean, it just seems so…not possible.”
“I know,” he said softly. “Sometimes I still can’t believe my mom is gone.” He dropped his head back against the headrest. “You know what my first thought was when she told me she wasn’t gonna make it? Who’s gonna cut the crust off my sandwiches? I mean, seriously, can you believe that shit? How stupid do you have to be?”
“You were a kid!”
“I know, but still. Sometimes I wish I could yell at eight-year-old Liam, ‘Who cares about a fucking sandwich, kid? You’re never gonna go to the beach together again. She’s never gonna see you in a movie. She’s not gonna be at your wedding or meet your kids.’ I would trade a whole lotta crustless sandwiches just to hear her pretend one more time that the broken shells I brought up from the ocean were the most beautiful things she’s ever seen.”
I had no idea what to say. “I’m so sorry, Liam.” It sounded so pathetic in the sad silence of the car.
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “I’m still standing. Hopefully I even make her proud every now and again. You’ll do the same. So will your sister.”
I cracked a small smile at that. “You don’t even know Lucy.”
“No, but I know her big sister, and I have a feeling the good stuff runs in the family.”
For the first time since finding Lucy in my house that afternoon, I felt a calming warmth spread throughout my body, replacing the cold, uneasy feeling that had permeated every minute of that afternoon.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “For someone who doesn’t get asked to listen a lot, you’re awfully good at it. And it is nice to know that since you turned out semi-decent, there’s probably hope for the Duncan clan.”
He laughed and squeezed back. “Semi-decent, huh? Why do I feel like that’s high praise coming from you?”
“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad.”
He pursed his lips in a smug smile, and I whacked him on the chest with my free hand. “No, not bad at all,” he teased.
We were both silent for a moment, and then I asked, “So what was she like? I mean, obviously she was pretty awesome if she cut the crusts off your sandwiches.” “Oh, she was beyond awesome,” he replied, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “She used to leave notes for me in my backpack every morning. She even left a bunch of extras so I’d have some after she died. As hard as I cried when we buried her, I think I cried even harder when I ran out of those notes.” He pulled his hand from mine and rubbed his eyes. “God, I sound so pathetic right now,” he said ruefully.
“You do not,” I argued, missing the consoling warmth of his fingers already. “You sound like a guy who really loves his mom.”
“Yeah, well, my crying drove my dad nuts. He had no idea what to do with this little snot-nosed eightyear-old. Finally, he sat me down in front of The Godfather and explained to me that Michael Corleone was a real man, and I needed to stop crying and man up.”
I whistled. “Wow. No wonder you wanted to get out of his house as soon as possible.
”
“The guy’s a dick, no question about it, but for whatever reason, that always stuck with me. To this day, I still think Al Pacino is the biggest badass on the planet. All I wanted was to be just like his characters, to be able to take care of business without giving a shit about anything or anyone.”
“That sounds…lonely.”
He smiled wryly. “I prefer solitary, and yeah, my life’s been pretty damn solitary, but it’s how I like it. If you don’t need anybody, you have a lot less to lose. Bonus points if nobody else needs you either.”
“Well, I needed you tonight, and there you were,” I pointed out. “Was it the worst thing ever?”
He shook his head slowly, as if it pained him to do so. “No,” he said quietly.
His reluctant admission probably shouldn’t have made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but it did. Suddenly, I wanted to yank his hand back and never let go. But I didn’t, and after a moment, he glanced at his watch.
“Shit, I had to be on set like ten minutes ago. Will I see you tomorrow? I was thinking maybe we could squeeze in some SAT tutoring. It’s been a while.”
At that point, I probably couldn’t have stayed away even if I’d wanted to. “Yup, I’ll be here.”
“Cool. Have a g’night, Ally.”
I smiled. It felt really, really good. “Bon nuit, Liam. À demain.”
* * * * *
I took the long way home, and by the time I returned, Lucy was asleep. I trudged into my own room, changed into a T-shirt and shorts, washed up for bed, and lay on top of the covers, my brain working a mile a minute the entire time.
I wish I could’ve said that I was thinking entirely about my dad and the rest of my family, but the truth was, Liam was occupying a lot more of my brainspace than I would’ve liked. What had happened to the rational part of me who was able to compartmentalize “them” and “us”? The last thing I wanted was to end up like Nate, crushing on someone who was completely out of the range of possibility.
And speaking of “them,” my phone began ringing, and I knew without a doubt it was Vanessa; no one else ever called me after ten. “What’s up, V?”