by Melissa Hill
Listening to her friend’s words, Jess wondered when exactly the friendship had become ‘we’ and ‘you’. But of course she knew when, and more importantly why. She was being ostracized because, unlike Deirdre and Emer, she hadn’t utilized her ovaries, and wasn’t part of the cosy little club they now shared.
Yet, she’d never neglected her friends and wouldn’t dream of leaving them out of her plans, and whenever she and Brian had a party she always invited everyone, regardless of their family circumstances.
Oh my goodness, she thought, remembering something, the girls and their husbands hadn’t come to any of her and Brian’s dinner parties recently; did they feel they were past a childless couple’s petty little interests?
‘So I guess this is why you and Emer don’t come and visit us anymore either,’ she said quietly.
‘What? No, we always try to come if we can, and if we can’t, it’s only because we can’t find a babysitter. Come on, Jess, please don’t be like this.’
‘I’m sorry …I just don’t understand why …’ By now, Jess felt wrong-footed and upset, and worried she would end up saying something she regretted, she issued a quick apology to Deirdre and told her she would call her later.
The reality of what was happening with her friendship with the girls was making her vulnerable and uneasy, and feeling unaccountably lonely, Jess lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, trying not to fret about it.
Hours later, she sat up and blinked through the early evening darkness. A noise from downstairs had woken her up. Brian was home.
‘Jess honey, are you here?’ She heard his footsteps on the stairs.
‘In here.’
The bedroom door opened and her husband entered and Jess couldn’t resist a smile. Although obviously tired from the flight, he still looked handsome as always. He was tall, well over six-foot, with dark hair with deep brown eyes. And tired or not, those sharp eyes missed nothing.
‘Hi gorgeous,’ he began, but then frowned when he saw her sad face and mussed-up hair. ‘Hey, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ she lied, not wanting to ruin his homecoming. She stood up and went to embrace him. ‘How was Singapore?’
Seeing her expression, he cocked his head to the side. ‘Doesn’t look like fine to me. What’s happened?’
His concern merely served to bring on a fresh wave of dismay, and through fits and starts, Jess once again unleashed the story of everything that had happened. Brian listened patiently, allowing her to get it all out.
‘I just can’t believe it. And now that I think of it, it’s been happening for a while too. Brian, I never thought we’d be outcasts just because we don’t have kids. I mean, soon they won’t want to talk to us at all, won’t want us around them in case we … infect them with our shallowness!’
Brian seemed to be trying to keep a straight face. ‘Always so melodramatic,’ he teased. . ‘Look, you need to try and look at this from a practical point of view, instead of letting that crazy imagination of yours go off on wild tangents as usual.’
Jess looked at him. He was always teasing her about her supposedly vivid imagination and yes, perhaps she did have a tendency to overreach sometimes, but such a trait wasn’t always a bad thing, not to mention pretty much essential in her line of work. Anyway, in this case her imagination wasn’t running away with her. Her friends were ostracising her, plain and simple, and things would only get worse surely?
Brian was smiling as if reading her mind. ‘Don’t even go there. OK, so what Emer did with the party was a bit foolish but she probably didn’t mean any harm by it, and I’m sure you’ll all make up in the end.’ He chuckled as he leaned down and nuzzled her neck. ‘I’m sure it’s all just a silly misunderstanding.’
But Jess wasn’t so easily convinced. ‘How could I misunderstand being purposely lied to about a party? And being deliberately left out of their shopping trip while they probably had a great time poking fun at me and my stupid little shoe fetishes,’ she added, remembering Deirdre’s comments earlier. ‘They think my life is silly and pointless, and now they’re alienating me, and Brian, it can only be because we don’t have kids.’
Brian sighed. ‘Well, have you even considered that it might be less about alienating you, and more about them not wanting to wreck your head? Kids can be painful after all.’
Jess looked at him. She hadn’t really thought it might be a case of the girls trying to save her from noise or hassle. And it wasn’t as if she ever minded that kind of thing anyway; she enjoyed being around their children.
‘Do you really think that’s all it is?’
‘Of course. What else could it be?’
‘Well, what I already said – about us not being able to join in.’
‘If that is the case, then more fool them,’ Brian grinned. ‘Honestly Jess, I really do think you’re blowing all of this out of proportion. So Emer left you out of her mommy party – what do you care?’
But Jess did care, that was the crux of the problem. She cared deeply about her friendship and she was very worried that this was only the beginning.
‘Anyway, try and think about the benefits of not having kids,’ Brian went on chuckling. ‘You and I have so much freedom just as a couple, whereas the likes of Deirdre and Kevin can’t even go out to McDonald’s for a milkshake without bringing in the National Guard.’ Brian kissed her and smiled. ‘Plus, you still have an incredibly sexy body minus stretch marks and C-section scars,’ he added tickling her, and Jess gradually began to feel a weight lift.
He was right; they could do whatever they wanted, hop on last-minute flights to Paris or New York, take off on round-the-world cruises at the drop of a hat, and quaff champagne at glamorous parties without a care in the world.
Not that she and Brian did do many of those things, but the important thing was that they could…
Feeling much better, she put her arms around her husband and kissed him, and when they pulled apart he looked at her. ‘Look, sounds to me like you’ve had a weird weekend, so I think you need to get over it by going out somewhere nice tonight with your lovely hubby.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘And the only thing you need to think about is what cocktail you should order.’
Jess smiled, she did like the idea of going out with Brian later and forgetting all about what had happened. Trust him to put it all into perspective and help remind her of just how fabulous a life she led. She had a fantastic job, gorgeous house, beautiful clothes, and a loving husband. Truly, she was very fortunate and she shouldn’t allow an incident like that get the better of her.
Brian was right; her imagination had run away with her, this probably was just a silly misunderstanding, and she and the girls would no doubt get over it.
‘Come on then,’ he said, holding out his hand to help her off the bed. ‘Let’s go and get a couple of margaritas.’
And much later that night, as she and her husband shared more than just ‘a couple’ of margaritas and spent much of their time laughing and chatting like they always did, Jess wondered what on earth she had been worrying about. Her life was wonderful and she had everything to be grateful for. So why on earth waste time stressing about what she didn’t have?
Chapter 6
Ruth worried the entire way to Dublin. During the first flight from L.A. to New York she suffered through a hangover and a low level panic that pulsated in her stomach. Chloe had arranged for the morning after pill without asking any questions and had packed it in her carry-on bag, along with a pregnancy test kit that she said ‘should set your mind at ease later’. Ruth had taken the pill while waiting for the flight to board at LAX and hoped against hope that it would do the job.
Now, as she walked through Kennedy airport, heading towards the gate for the connecting Aer Lingus flight to Dublin, she turned her cell phone back on and saw that she had voicemail waiting. She punched in her code and listened. When she heard the voice, her stomach clenched.
‘Ruth, babe it’s me, Tro
y. Hey, how did you get out of the hotel room so fast?’ her co-star asked. ‘You were gone before I woke up.’ There was a pause; as if he was searching for something to say. ‘Hey, just wanted to say that I had a great time last night and well … I hope we’re cool. We were both pretty hammered, I guess … Anyway, I’d like to see you again. I know you’ll be gone for a bit but … hey, maybe just call me when you get this?’
Oh, she thought to herself. What did all that mean? At first, it sounded like a message left by someone who really wanted to cover his ass, but then he’d asked to see her again. On a date, or just for more sex? She shook her head and wondered if he carried any of the same worries that she did right now. Unlikely he was a man after all and a split condom wouldn’t be an issue for him, wouldn’t have potentially career-changing consequences.
She thought of her painstakingly maintained size zero body, pictured stretch marks developing on her toned stomach and winced. It couldn’t happen, could it? Life really couldn’t be that cruel.
She briefly remembered reading something about the age at which women were supposed to have a decline in fertility age thirty she thought, so maybe for once, her age would work in her favour? Regardless that everyone in Hollywood believed she was twenty-five.
When Ruth reached her gate, she saw that the flight was already boarding. Good, she wouldn’t have to wait around. She just wanted to try and put all this behind her, and while she wasn’t as excited to be returning to Ireland now, she felt that the distance between her and that stupid mistake from last night was exactly what she needed, even if that distance was just miles.
Now, cruising at thirty thousand feet over the Atlantic, Ruth put the sleep mask over her eyes and tried to relax. But try as she might, she just couldn’t get last night out of her mind. She briefly thought through her options. Okay, if (and it was a big ‘if’ at this point) she was pregnant, it could still be a secret. She would be in Ireland for the next few months; so she could always pop over to London to get it dealt with. No one would have to know
But no, even though it was the obvious solution to what could potentially be a career-wrecking problem, Ruth found it difficult to even consider that. While she knew that she could not allow her glittering career to come falling down around her ankles, she would also not allow herself to do such a thing. There had to be another way. She would figure this out, in the same way she had always figured things out. She hadn’t become a Hollywood star through lack of determination or know-how after all.
The flight landed in Dublin early the following morning Irish-time. However, the fact that Ruth was still operating on Pacific Time immediately made her worry about the bags she knew had formed under her eyes. A good excuse as any to wear her sunglasses, despite the grey mist that was visible through the window.
To think that for years she had pictured this moment; her glorious homecoming, stepping off the plane to meet a swarm of Irish media, who all wanted to take her picture and shower her with compliments. She had always pictured herself looking ultra-glamorous but chic the way Gwyneth always did when getting off of a plane after ten hours.
Now, looking down at her wrinkled silk Dolce & Gabbana top over Seven for All Mankind jeans, she wondered how Gwyneth always looked so pristine and unrumpled. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she probably flew on a private jet, got actual sleep because the aircraft had a bed, and was able to shower and change?
While Ruth didn’t have the option to do any of those things, being hungover for the majority of the flight probably didn’t help either, and Gwyneth likely also never flew anywhere without a team of stylists. Ruth immediately regretted not bringing Chloe on this trip, because not only did she miss the constant flattery that her assistant provided, but her organizational and PR skills too. She knew that upon arrival she would be met by a driver, but it just wasn’t the same.
The flight attendants were preparing the cabin to be opened and Ruth started to gather her things. She checked her makeup one more time in her compact, and made sure that the amount of lipstick she had on was acceptable. She also noted that tell-tale bags under her eyes were indeed present. Damn! Ruth put a stick of chewing gum in her mouth and chewed it intensely for a moment, trying to rid herself of the dreaded hangover breath. Ugh. Forget her triumphant homecoming, all Ruth wanted at that moment was to get to the nearest hotel room and sleep for days. But there would be little time for rest as the following afternoon she was due at the TV studios for her long-awaited appearance on the Late Tonight show.
Her brain full of cobwebs, she shook her head and tried to regain that feeling of excitement that she’d had all week in the run-up to this, but found it was hard coming.
Eventually she exited the plane, but instead of descending the steps movie-star-like to a greeting swarm of media, she was instead shunted through a narrow passenger gangway tunnel with the rest of the hordes.
She exited the tunnel and made her way through to passport control. Looking around, she found that quite a lot had changed since the last time she had been here. The airport looked all shiny and modern, not too unlike LAX. Where were all the diddly-aye Guinness and Aran sweater shops? From what she could see they were even selling MAC here now. OK, so it had been a while since she was last here, and she knew Ireland had improved somewhat, but hell, was that a caviar bar?
She really hadn’t expected this at all, this glossy, urbane first glimpse of her home country. She tried to alter the confused expression on her face and replace it with a carefree smile. After all, she reminded herself, no matter how sophisticated things seemed here now, people would still be excited by her visit, wouldn’t they?
Best foot forward and all that…
Regardless of how miserable she was feeling, Ruth reminded herself that no one knew about what happened last night, no one knew about her and Troy so really she’d be better off putting it to the back of her mind for now and hope that the pill did its thing. It was her secret and she could deal with anything that she had to in her own time. So for the moment, why not soak up the platitudes and the magic of her big moment? She was allowed be happy today; she was returning home to Ireland as a huge success, would see her family soon, and would be appearing on the highest rating TV chat-show tomorrow night so what was there to be glum about? Lifted by these thoughts, a wave of optimism flooded through her, and she straightened her shoulders as she approached the line for passport control.
She glanced tentatively around at the other travellers waiting in line, wondering if anyone recognized her and was vaguely disappointed to see that no one seemed to bat an eyelid at the glamorous woman in oversized sunglasses; they were all too interested in making it to the top of the queue. Didn’t they realise that she was not only one of the hottest actresses around, but one of their own? Moving along, Ruth shivered, wondering if her homecoming would be the big fuss she’d hoped it would be. OK so Irish people were famed for their down-to-earth attitude towards celebrities, but she was Ruth Seymour, for goodness sake!
Suddenly missing LA’s star mania, she reached the booth and held out her passport for inspection. The name would no doubt mean nothing to this bored middle-aged immigration officer, who sure enough, waved her through without a second glance.
Having collected her baggage she went through to the arrivals area, and immediately spied the man who would be her driver. He was holding a small sign with the name ‘R. Seymour’ printed on it, and she approached him with a smile that could melt titanium.
‘Hello there,’ she cooed. ‘I think you’re waiting for me?’
The man smiled and gave her a brief once-over, and while she knew Chloe had arranged a respected Dublin chauffeur service to collect her, Ruth wondered just how often this guy got to meet stars of her calibre. Her ego gradually began to swell and she felt giddy at the thought of him regally leading her through the arrivals area.
But rather than greeting her profusely and offering to take her Louis Vuitton carrier, the man just consulted his clipboard and
motioned for Ruth to follow him.
‘I should let you know that there are a load of photographers outside – apparently they found out you would be arriving today somehow.’
Ruth smiled to herself. Well of course the press knew about her arrival, thanks to a ‘leak’ about her schedule. Good job Chloe.
‘That’s no problem, it’s to be expected,’ she sighed.
‘Yes, well … there are a lot of them, and they seem very eager to talk to you,’ the driver said, and immediately Ruth felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The Irish press were clambering to see her. Yes! For most of her life Ruth had been dreaming of this moment, and through every crappy commercial, every embarrassing gombeen bit-part she’d been reduced to, she’d known this was her destiny. Now it was happening, it was really happening and Ruth felt more exhilarated than she’d ever been in her life.
Forget LA and what had happened last night; it was a blip, a tiny blot on an otherwise perfect week. Now, today this was her shot, her opportunity. And she was going to soak up every last minute of it.
‘Anyway,’ he continued. ‘When we go through, just stay close to me and I’ll make sure you get into the car safely.’
‘Of course, thank you for your concern.’
She duly followed the driver through the pair of automatic doors to where the limo was parked. At least Ruth assumed it was towards the limo because once the doors opened, she couldn’t see anything but a wall of blinding white light. Hundreds of camera flashes exploded in unison, and a throng of people surged towards her. Whoa, this was one hell of a welcome!
Ruth looked up and assumed her best superstar smile, courtesy of her six hundred dollar an hour orthodontist.
‘Ruth, is it true you spent last night with Troy Valentine?’ she heard one of them say, and all of a sudden her smile froze.