And what to do now? Was it too late to terminate a pregnancy? I had no freakin’ clue. And no one to talk to. I felt utterly alone. Physically I wasn’t, but emotionally, I was on an island, pity party of one.
When the white Suburban pulled up the driveway, I grew excited and petrified all at once. Yay, Chase was back. I couldn’t wait to hug him. Smell him and touch him. Somehow, I felt like just that was going to make everything all right. But then again, shit. How was I going to face him now? Ohmigosh! He’s going to think I’m trying to trap him into a relationship of some sort. Or that I was going to try and pin it on him! Why was this only occurring to me now?
Panic started to set in and I felt my breathing grow erratic. The car came to a stop and a guy with a shaved head jumped out and ran around to the other side of the car and opened the door to help another person get out of the car. This second person also had a shaved head, and as the pair walked up to the porch stairs, my addled brain started to do some quick math.
Holy Shit! Mother of God! What the fuck? The two shaved heads walking up the stairs were Chase and his mom! Both of them had shaved their heads, Chase’s not as extreme as his mothers, having left barely a quarter inch length. Shannon was clean bald.
“Surprise! Actually, I kind of surprised myself,” Chase laughed, rubbing his hand over his buzzed head jumping up the steps, followed closely by his mother.
“I told him not to do it, but this boy nearly never listens to his mama,” she said coming up alongside Chase.
I was stunned silent. His hair. His thick, blonde hair—gone! And looking at his mother, whose head was completely bald, I was simply feeling pathetic. I was so wrapped up in my own world of drama that I had overlooked what was going on around me. I hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to the scarf that she was wearing earlier in the day, just a passing theory. She must have been losing her hair because of the cancer and chemo treatment. I felt so horrible that I hadn’t even given it a second thought. I just thought she was a little eccentric wearing the scarf. Her bangs had been peeking out from the front. She had some hair… But here the two of them stood. Hairless.
“Mom was losing her hair from the chemo treatment,” Chase explained, tucking me under his arm. I couldn’t absorb his new look. “She shaved it instead of letting it get too thin and stringy until she was finally bald. An’ the scarf was gettin’ too itchy.” I reached up and touched the short hairs. It was an odd feeling. All in all, he had a beautifully shaped head. Was there anything about this man that was unattractive?
“Oh! Like my new shirt?” Chase stepped back, and indeed he’d left wearing another simple t-shirt, today’s had been green. And true to form, that green shirt had no icons, or identifying emblem. This shirt was black. Splashed with pink and white embroidered text that read, “I Wear Pink for My Mom,” with the “P” in “Pink” a big pink ribbon angled to make the letter.
I was overcome with emotion.
“Ms. Smith, you have gorgeous eyes,” I said, looking for something to say.
“Well, thank you, Phoebe. But please, call me Shannon. Ms. Smith makes me feel too old,” she laughed tiredly. “And on that note, I’m going to take a nap.”
“I’ll bring you some tea, Mom.” Chase called behind her.
“Not necessary, darlin’,” she yawned back. “I’ll be asleep before the water can even get warm. Take Phoebe for a row on the lake. Enjoy the afternoon.” Shannon made her way up the stairs.
I turned and looked at Chase and his new look. “So, you shaved your head for support?” I asked. Chase ran his hand over his head and smiled sheepishly. “I think it’s sweet.” Chase looked at me and I swear he blushed.
“You know, the gal was half done when I started to panic wondering what you were gonna think.”
“It’ll take getting used to, but I think you’re an amazing son. Any mother would be proud of you.”
We stood for a moment, not really knowing what to say. “Care for a row?” Chase asked.
“I would. Thank you.” And with that, he took my hand and led me down to the lake.
After figuring out the knots that held the boat, a near capsizing, and several laughs, Chase rowed us to the middle of the lake. I was unable to talk, my thoughts desperately divided on Shannon’s health, and my recent news/non-news, so I asked Chase to fill the silence and tell me about the farm. He talked easily about when he bought this 200 acre estate for his mother six years ago. Shannon had always wanted to run a flower farm, and with Chase having just turned eighteen, she was not needed on set anymore. So, Chase had his manager, Michael, Valerie’s brother, look into it buying a flower farm in the area. He found this sunflower farm that was doing okay, but the couple who had owned the business were well aged, and without successors to pass the business along to. Chase’s uncle lived not too far, and his wife had recently passed from an undetected heart condition. Brock, also feeling lonely, was more than willing to move in with Shannon and run the farm. So, for Mother’s Day, 2008, Chase presented his mother with the biggest flower bouquet in the world: 186 acres of sunflowers. The remaining fourteen acres was accounted for with the house, yard, driveway, barn, and lake. Brock and Shannon did well with the farm, and it gave a nice place for Chase to get away to, which he did often.
“You come here often?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he grinned a crooked smirk. “Those times when the tabloids are reporting that I’m in some sort of rehab again, I’m not. I’m usually here. Just taking a break.”
“Really,” I asked sitting back.
“I like late July or early August best. The fields are in full bloom,” Chase said, pointing behind me, and I turned to look, “It’s incredible, especially at sunset. The sky is orange and the fields are yellow.” Chase tugged my arm, and pulled me back onto the seat next to him, considerably rocking the boat. “I’ll have to bring you back then. It’s always been my favorite thing to stare at, my peace… until you.”
I turned to look at Chase, who wasn’t looking at the horizon, but looking at me. He cupped his hand to the back of my head, and brought his face to mine. His lips brushed over mine softly, then again sucking in my lower lip gently. My arms wrapped themselves around Chase’s waist, and carefully, he helped me maneuver to sit on his lap. With both of his hands at the back of my head, his fingers woven into my hair, he kissed me again, more passionately, and more hungrily. When our tongues met, all thoughts and problems left my head completely. My body sang with desire, my nipples hardened as soon as Chase brought one hand down from my head, down my back, and into the waistband of my shorts. If we weren’t on a tiny rowboat, I’d have stood and let him take them down.
I ran my hands up his back and one hand to his head, wanting to grip his hair, but I was met with the silky short bristle. I missed his longer locks and running my fingers through them while we kissed. Suddenly, I got scared. I pulled back, rocking the boat a little too much. I didn’t even let the boat steady before I blurted, “Chase! What are the producers going to say about your hair?”
“Yeah… I dunno. A wig? But this was bigger than my career, you know? This is about my mom.”
“I know, and I love you for it, but it was my job to—”
“Wait a sec. You love me?”
What did I say? It was a slip of the tongue. An expression. It was about how he cut his hair for his mom, right? Did I love him? I’d only said it to one guy before… Jared, my first… Then he and his family moved to Germany for his dad’s job. I’d almost said it to Danny, and I count my blessings that I never voiced those thoughts out loud. But with Chase… Things were electric, and exciting, and comfortable, and complicated. Like my mom had said about Jack:
“He makes my knees weak, and my heart beat. He’s the first thought on my mind when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I’m falling asleep. He makes me feel safe, and loved, and wanted.”
Weak knees and beating heart…Check. First thought and last thought…Check. Made me feel wanted.…Check. I mean su
re, he’s mega heartthrob, Chase Smythe. All women went weak in the knees for him. I certainly thought about him first and last of every day since we met. I felt wronged that he’d used lines to be filmed to seduce me, but maybe his apology was from the heart. Love?
“You don’t have to answer,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I mean, it’s silly, right?” he laughed awkwardly. “We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks…”
My hormones were clearly on overdrive because I suddenly sobbed, tears stinging my eyes. He pulled me close and nuzzled my face into his soothing scent. “But, Chase… I think maybe I do,” I said into his neck. Taking in his wonderful scent again, listening to my head and heart, I sat back and looked him square in the eye. I felt something click inside. “I really think I do. I love you,” I said, getting the words out carefully.
Chase hugged me tightly then, pushed me back so we could see eye-to-eye. “Well, I know I do. I love you. I’ve been wanting to say those three words since Friday morning, and then… God! Phoebe,” he laughed. “I LOVE YOU!” he shouted, the words echoing off of the trees that surrounded the lake and settled back on us. I tried to shush him but he just laughed. “I’ve been surrounded by fake people my whole life, aside from my mom and Uncle Brock and a couple of others, but you have always been honest, and caring, and fair with me. And those are just the rational reasons. I can’t even begin to tell you what the thought of you does to my body.”
We sat in that rowboat, holding hands and kissing for another half an hour, silently enjoying the peace of the lake. We didn’t talk much. We didn’t have to. I think we were both trying to absorb the enormity of the moment that had passed.
I was grateful for the quiet. I had so much to process from the past two hours I felt like my brain was going to explode. Chase and I have just professed our love for each other, and I was pregnant with someone else’s baby, and on top of all of this, Chase’s mother was fighting breast cancer, and my parents’ looming divorce and their new lives running through my head. My mother and Jack sure seemed happy and I wondered what my dad was up to? Was he lonely? Had he met another woman?
Wow that felt good. WOW! Hearing it. Saying it. “I love you.” WOW!! To have it be real, and not a line out of a script. The words kept echoing in my head and heart.
And after the emotional day I just had with my mom, this time on the lake with Phoebe couldn’t have been any more perfect. The doctor’s visit was enlightening. He reviewed my mom’s case with me, her treatment, and odds. My mother had assured me all along that things were “fine,” and “no big deal,” but they had been “fine” and “no big deal” when my dad died, and when my step-father left, so I wasn’t inclined to let her ‘sugar coat’ things for me. Hearing it direct from the doctor gave me greater peace of mind. Were there risks? Yes. Was cancer-free one hundred percent guaranteed? No, but the doctor put her odds at eighty-five percent. I could deal with that.
When we were leaving the doctor’s office, my mom was retying the scarf she was wearing on her head. As she pulled the scarf off, I noticed several patches of missing hair, and a tuft or two came loose with the scarf and floated to the floor. Right then, mom looked at me and said, “Take me to the hair dresser’s, Charlie. I’m shaving it off.” So, I took her to Carol’s, the woman who has been cutting her hair since I could remember. But once Mom sat in that chair, her body started to shake and she started to cry. That’s when I pulled her from the seat, and sat in the chair myself. I asked Carol to shave my head. Bald. It was the least I could do join her in this fight of her life. When Carol wouldn’t do it, and my mom protested as well, I grabbed the clippers from the workspace and started to shave the hair myself. Once I’d started the job, Carol stopped me, and finished it properly. When it was done, it looked like a small animal had lost a fight on the floor. It was a lot of hair. I mean a lot. My mom, took the chair next, and stoically went bald herself. I held her hand the whole time and she did weep a few tears, but she said the tears were because I had cut my hair off. But, it’s only hair. It’ll grow back. I’m sure there was more than just my hair to those tears. I knew my mom pretty well, and I think the tears were more a sign of her giving in; as if the surgery to remove the tumor and sickness from the chemo, weren’t enough. The hair was the one to send her over the edge. The outward symbol to the world that she was not the perfect one she wanted everybody to believe.
On the drive home from the doctor, I did one last impulsive thing. I made a call to my manager, Michael. He wasn’t happy with my demand, but I wasn’t backing down. Now I was just waiting to hear back from him.
I felt like I was playing a game of Blackjack, and I was hoping that I wasn’t going to bust by calling one more card. But seems that with this past day with Phoebe, and more specifically the past hour or so, I’ve just pulled an Ace of Hearts to go with my pair of tens.
CHAPTER 27
When we walked into the house, we were greeted with the amazing aroma of dinner. Shannon came out of the kitchen with her new bald head, scarf-free, and wiping her hands down. “I was craving lasagne, hope that sits well with you?” she asked me. Craving? Was there a reason she chose that word? Did she know something? Was she also referring to my reaction to Brock’s eggs at breakfast, too? Had she done the math? Had I left the test stick, or package, out somewhere? I started to panic.
“Sounds great,” I squeaked.
Shannon smiled big, her eyes sparkled, and she returned to the kitchen. “It’ll be ready in about a half an hour. Oh, and Phoebe?” I looked at her mind still focused on her reference to pregnancy. I was certain I’d stashed everything very well. “Your cobbler looks and smells amazing! Can’t wait to taste it.”
“Um, yeah, thanks,” I smiled, still feeling uneasy. Shannon grinned and she headed back into the kitchen.
“Mom always makes lasagne when she’s ‘coping’,” Chase smiled sadly. He looked over my face and maybe sensed that I was kinda freaked out. “She makes the best lasagne you’ve ever had. I guarantee. Is that why you bake? To cope with things?”
I was desperate to change the topic. Being put on the spot with my baking, Shannon’s use of the word ‘craving,’ and why she needed to ‘cope,’ was going to make me have a melt down. I shrugged, and took the conversation in a different route. “So, when are we going back to New York?”
Chase’s face fell. “Thursday. Michael tells me that they’ve shifted the shooting schedule and I’ll be shooting Friday and Saturday. Voice work all day Sunday. I’m supposed to be back in LA on Monday.” Chase pulled us to sit on the sofa.
My heart broke. He was going back to LA? I should have known.
“But, this afternoon I told Michael I needed to take a break. I’m pulling out of some of the projects I’ve got lined up.”
“You’re pulling out of projects?” I asked, confused.
“I’ve realized over the past few days that I need to step back from the hours on set and traveling, and spend some hours in real life. I have asked Michael to hire a realtor for me. I’m going to look at some condos in New York.”
“You’re buying a condo in New York?” I asked, my eyes bugging out.
“Well, yeah. And I’m looking into taking some classes at NYU. Maybe get a degree. I’ve put it off too long as it is. I’m already twenty-four and still haven’t been to college.”
“You’re going to go to NYU?” I knew I sounded like a complete idiot, repeating everything Chase was saying, but I couldn’t help myself.
Chase pushed his hand into my hair and pulled a chunk forward and fluffed it up, fingering the locks as he did. “What can I say? I want to try normal. I want simple. I want you.”
My heart dropped. My current ‘situation’ was anything but normal. I started to have a hard time breathing and my eyes welled with tears. Once Chase learned of my situation, that I was pregnant with another guy’s baby, he was going to run back to LA. He was pulling out of jobs, moving to New York, g
oing to go to school… all to be with me. He was going to ruin his whole career, for me. I was so unworthy right now.
“Chase, I should probably tell you something,” I started. I might as well tell him now so he could call his manager and get those projects back on track and not ruin his career on my account.
He smiled sweetly at me. “What is it, Sweets?”
I took a deep breath, and let it out in a puff. Just say it, Phoebe. Like a band-aid that needs to come off. One quick motion. Just say it. “Chase I’m—”
“Is that lasagne I smell?” Brock interrupted loudly, sweeping in through the front door. “Holy geezus, boy! What happened to your hair?” Brock stood wide-eyed staring at Chase. It must have been how I looked when I first saw him this afternoon.
“Tom? Is that you?” Shannon asked coming into the room, joining the party.
“Shannon! Wow! You look… you look amazing! I know you’d talked about… Wow!” Brock looked between Chase and Shannon a few times. Chase’s shirt caught Brock’s attention. His eyes started to well with tears as he did. He walked up to Chase, who stood to face his uncle. Brock rubbed a hand on Chase’s now buzz-cut hair. “You are one mighty fine young man. You did this for your mother? You cut that amazing mop for your mama?”
Chase smiled at Brock. “Yessir, I did.”
“God love ya!” And with that, Brock pulled Chase into a monster hug, slapping his back. Chase hugged Brock back, but more like he was hanging on for dear life. Shannon walked up to the two men and they gently pulled her into the fold. Suddenly, I became completely overcome with all the emotion in the room—my news and Shannon, Chase and Brock in this tender family moment—my strength crashed. I burst into tears and hiccuped drawing attention to me. Chase set his violet-blues, wet with unshed tears, and put out a hand to me. When I didn’t take it right away, he beckoned me with his hand, waving it for me to grab on. I took it, and was instantly pulled into the group hug.
Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 Page 20