Love in the Heartland

by Diana Currie

  Love in the Heartland

  By Diana Currie

  Text copyright © 2018 Diana B. Currie

  All Rights Reserved

  Other books by this author:

  Cupcake Love available on Amazon

  Notes on His Pillow available on Amazon

  For Isaac, Taylor, and Zac

  who inspire me… to do, to go, to be…

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter One

  Nathan stumbled through the heavy oak doors of his house in Beverly Hills and waved to his limo driver just to prove that he was indeed capable of unlocking the door on his own. He was so tired of people opening soda cans for him and constantly asking him if he was alright every time he coughed or sighed too loudly. He hated being babied and the constant attention Nathan had been receiving for the past year was wearing on his psyche. His driver, Stanley, had had his doubts about Nathan’s ability to care for himself that evening. He’d watched Nathan approach the black limousine in the dimly lit alley behind the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel hours earlier. He knew that night was the premier of Nathan’s new movie and he would undoubtedly be partying hard. But Stanley had never seen his boss that bad off before.

  Nathan had been slurring his words and stumbling towards the limo with a mob of paparazzi cameras flashing in his face the whole way. He only had to walk ten feet from the back door of the hotel to Stanley’s limo, but even that short distance proved too much for the young actor. Stanley had bolted from his seat behind the wheel just in time to catch Nathan before he fell face first into the pavement. Those damn cameramen were so concerned about getting a decent shot of Nathan Foster than not one hand extended to help stop him from tasting the concrete.

  “How are you feeling Mr. Foster?” Stanley asked compassionately.

  “I might have had one too many drinks,” Nathan groaned. “Please get me home quick.”

  Despite his boss’s wishes, Stanley had to drive around Los Angeles for over an hour until he was certain that not a single car was still following them. After having been Nathan’s driver for six months he was now very familiar with the makes and models of the cars belonging to the most persistent members of the paparazzi. Meanwhile, Nathan was lying in the back muttering something about his agent being a money hungry bitch. He looked like he would be sick any moment and Stanley hoped beyond hope that he could get Nathan back to his home in Beverly Hills before the hors d’oeuvre’s from the very upscale Zero Gravity after party were spewed all over his limo’s leather interior.

  Thanks to Stanley, Nathan arrived home unnoticed by the media or even his neighbors. A little after three am Nathan finally shuffled his feet across the marble floor of his foyer and into the large empty kitchen. The cabinets were made from the finest wood and the appliances all top of the line stainless steel but that hadn’t impressed Nathan when he selected this house. He always thought the kitchen was too large and felt cold. He chose the house because of the gated community around which it sat; not because of its bells and whistles, although it did have quite a few of those. Nathan proceeded to vomit in the deep basin sink and afterward ran the water for a good minute to make sure there would be no evidence when Lupe came to the house Monday. His housekeeper had enough work to do each day cleaning up after the twenty three year old bachelor; she didn’t need to wipe up his sick too.

  Nathan felt better after purging his stomach so he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a fresh beer. He realized he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol but couldn’t think of a better way to ward off the demons inside his head. At the party tonight one of his costars had taken offense to his foul mood. Gerard was a French-Canadian actor who’d played another astronaut in the sure to be blockbuster hit, Zero Gravity. He had told Nathan that tonight was a celebration of their accomplishment and he needed to loosen up. Gerard had handed Nathan drink after drink until he was able to forget all about the film they just watched.

  Nathan had hated the script the moment he read it and hated the whole project more and more as filming got underway. He had to wear a moon suit twelve hours a day for three months shouting things like “She’s coming in too steep!” and “We’ll never get out of this alive!” in front of a green screen. It was torturous from beginning to end. He knew while they were making the movie that the final product would be an offense to the film industry, but he had made promises and signed contracts. His agent told him it would make his career and the money was more than he’d ever dreamed of making in his entire life. To earn that much from a single role was like winning the lottery. It was a prize he couldn’t bring himself to pass up.

  Nathan took his beer into the living room and slumped unceremoniously onto the couch. He noticed Lupe had left his mail on the coffee table so with shaky hands Nathan began scanning through it. There were two sorted piles, one being a collection of bills. His phone bill alone was over a thousand dollars a month. When Nathan signed on to portray Travis Tague in Zero Gravity he celebrated by buying a lot of things he couldn’t even recall now. The Smart TV was one, a lot of other electronics probably, and a fully equipped SUV. Everything else he’d already forgotten about. He had no clue what was included in that Verizon bill but it was of little concern to him. Hank, his financial adviser, handled all that. He took another swig of beer and carefully placed the brown bottle on the table.

  The second pile of mail was more to Nathan’s liking; they were letters from his fans. Nathan enjoyed reading his fan mail. The envelopes were always different shapes and sizes, some had drawings or pictures taped to the outside designed to catch his attention, others smelled like perfume. A few months ago, he made an effort to reply to as many as he could. Now there were so many letters that he’d be lucky to even open half of them. Nathan’s fans made him hate his new life a little less. Sometimes they were all that kept him from disappearing back to the small town in Wisconsin he still considered home.

  Reaching for the beer bottle for one last swig, Nathan clumsily knocked it over spilling the amber liquid all over his mail. Many fan letters were soaked beyond saving and a number of bills were ruined too. Nathan cursed out loud and threw the wet envelopes onto the travertine tiled floor beneath his feet.As he looked upon the mess he made, Nathan remembered the little white pill Gerard had given him at the party.

  He made the mistake of trying to explain to his costar just why he was feeling so down that night. Zero Gravity was even worse on the big screen that it had been while in production. Nathan was always uncomfortable watching himself on screen so the entire premier itself was arduous. He began telling Gerard that fame and fortune weren’t turning out to be everything he’d imagined. When he asked Gerard if he believed in karma his costar and occasional friend rolled his eyes and pushed him into a dark corner.


  “Stop talking about shit like that, Foster,” Gerard whispered. “Don’t you realize what a lucky fucking prick you are? Stop over thinking everything and just enjoy the ride.”

  Gerard had slipped a clear plastic baggie into Nathan’s hand containing the pill. It came with a promise of mellowing out and having a good time. Nathan had to admit that sounded tempting, but he’d never indulged in any drug stronger than a little weed. He slipped the pill into his pocket and thanked Gerard.

  Home and all alone in the dark empty mansion Nathan once again considered swallowing the tiny poison. He hadn’t even asked Gerard what it was called, but there wasn’t any possibility that he’d given him something beneficial like a dietary supplement. Nathan looked around the living room deciding what to do. He wondered if his life had really come to this; doing mystery drugs alone in a house ten sizes too big for one person. His mind was cloudy from the alcohol but he wasn’t stupid. He’d graduated from the D.A.R.E. program in middle school. Nathan scoffed at the direction his thoughts had taken; his memories of school, home, his family. All that seemed like another lifetime. He didn’t want to take drugs. He wanted to be happy again.

  He thought about calling his mother, she always made him feel loved. But it was three thirty in the morning and he was drunk. A middle of the night phone call to Wisconsin would only worry his mother to death. She’d be able to sense the pain and desperation in his voice and undoubtedly start to cry. Nancy Foster had been the first person to tell Nathan to follow his dreams, but the last to support his decision to move to Los Angeles. She worried about her youngest baby surviving the culture of Hollywood. Nathan was beginning to think she was right.

  He soon realized there was no one else to talk to. Lupe was off Sundays; he wouldn’t see her again until sometime Monday morning. His housekeeper had become his closest friend, or at least the person who knew him best. The thought depressed him. His friends in Hollywood were untrustworthy. Most of the guys only hung out with him because of the attention it awarded them or special perks from restaurants and clubs that came with Nathan’s level of fame. The women he met only wanted him to take them to bed, and his friends back home in Wisconsin acted strangely around him now. He couldn’t bare his soul to his brother, Garrett, because he was jealous of Nathan’s fame. Garrett thought Nathan didn’t appreciate his great luck and success. He would have no sympathy for him, and instead would demand to know why he hadn’t been invited to the movie premier.

  Eventually, Nathan made the decision that he wouldn’t be reduced to Gerard’s idea of a good time, but he also didn’t throw the little white pill away. Instead, he tucked it deep inside the drawer of the coffee table underneath a Men’s Health magazine and a recent issue of GQ in which Nathan was featured on the cover. Someone had penned a large handlebar mustache across Nathan’s face on the magazine’s cover. It was probably one of his so called friends trying to be humorous. Nathan kept the defaced magazine because he felt the image was a metaphor for what he had become. He felt like he was always in disguise, parading about like a fun sexy superstar, when in reality he was really just a small town Wisconsin boy hiding behind designer jeans, bleached white teeth, and a lot of hair gel.

  Nathan let out a long sad sigh as he retrieved a hand towel from the kitchen to mop up the remainder of the beer on the table. The after effects of the alcohol were beginning to make him drowsy. He would have a hangover in the morning for certain. As he contemplated what to do next, a canary yellow envelope sticking out from between two white ones caught his attention. Knowing he needed to sober up somehow, he reached for the letter and took it upstairs to his bedroom along with a glass of water and his cell phone. Nathan stripped down to his boxer briefs and crawled in between the clean white sheets. God bless Lupe for doing his laundry.

  Sitting back against the headboard Nathan opened the colorful envelope and was surprised at what he found inside. The woman’s name was Madeline Sherratt and there was no gushing praise in her letter or declarations of love. No naked selfies fell out as he unfolded the pages. She began her letter by scolding the Alister; which was highly uncharacteristic of typical fan mail. He was immediately intrigued.

  Dear Nathan,

  As a fan who’s been following your career since the beginning I must say I’ve been troubled lately by what I’ve seen in the news about you. I know better than to believe most gossip but there are pictures to corroborate the stories about your late night antics. Your face has graced the tabloids more in the last two months than ever before. Partying every night? Public drunkenness? And don’t get me started on your tweeting! You’ve always been different, Nathan. A polite, respectful young man transplanted to Hollywood from a quiet town in Wisconsin. You’ve been a bright shining star in an otherwise shallow and morally inept Hollywood populace. Is that sweet, camera shy man still in there somewhere? I hope so.

  I loved your last film and think you have amazing talent. I’m sure you hear that often enough. But what I’ve seen in your eyes during the last few interviews for Zero Gravity have me wondering what’s changed in you. You confessed on the Today Show that living in the limelight can be surprisingly lonely. I want to make sure you know that there are people all over this world who care very much for you.

  I’m sure you have other people to turn to when you’re feeling down but I wanted to offer you just one more. My name is Madeline Sherratt, but I go by Maddie. I’m 25, working towards a Bachelor’s degree in biology. I work in a research lab during the day and babysit my nieces most nights. I’m not married, but someday I’d like to be. I live with my mother and father in Amarillo, Texas.

  I wanted to tell you to please take care of yourself. Don’t choose to go down the same dark path that so many talented young actors have done before you. I look forward to watching your promising career continue for years to come. Your fans love you, myself included, and we all want you to find happiness.

  My phone number is 806-555-8779 if you’d ever want to talk to a regular girl from America’s heartland.

  Behave yourself.

  Yours,

  Maddie Sherratt

  Nathan read the letter twice more and by the end of the third time he was sober. He’d never been called out on his behavior by a fan before. This Madeline Sherratt person had him pegged. She could see the destructive path he was on better than anyone standing in front of him. Lupe and Stanley were too concerned with their own job security to overstep their bounds with their boss and rightly so. Housekeepers and limo drivers were routinely fired for much lesser offenses in that town. Nathan’s agent had commented to him about the partying, but she admitted that any publicity was good for his career so she wasn’t about to interfere with his behavior. And his friends, well they were the instigators ninety percent of the time.

  There was no one looking out for Nathan, really. Except Miss Madeline Sherratt from Amarillo, Texas.

  He felt lost, alone, and worst yet sorry for himself. Garrett was right when he reminded Nathan of how lucky he was to have such a charmed life. And now he was on the verge of throwing it all away. Nathan felt sickened by his own self-pity, wanting nothing more than to fall into a dead sleep and not awake for days. He was disgusted by the way he behaved at the Zero Gravity after party. No doubt Maddie Sherratt will feel likewise when she reads about his drunken stupor on TMZ tomorrow.

  Nathan chugged the glass of water and lay on his side clutching Madeline’s note to his chest. Disgusted with himself, Nathan Foster sobbed like a baby feeling a range of emotion from bitterness, to self-pity, to desperation. Eventually his tears ran dry and Nathanpassed out in the middle of his king-sized bed.

  When he awoke Nathan felt even worse than the night before. His head was pounding, he could smell stale beer and cigarette smoke on his breath, and he felt humiliated for having cried himself to sleep like a child. It was eight am and he’d been out for just short of four hours. He realized he was hungrier than he’d ever been which only reminded him of how he’d tossed up everything he’d ea
ten the night before.

  Lupe usually cooked extra food for him during the week and left plastic containers filled with nutritional meals in the refrigerator. Nathan traipsed down to the kitchen in nothing but his boxer briefs in search of some of Lupe’s finest. He ate sirloin tips and mashed potatoes over the sink, took a long hot shower, and then fell back into his bed.

  When Nathan wasn’t actively filming a movie, it was typical practice for him to go out to clubs partying into the wee hours and then sleep away the next day. His days and nights had been inverted for over a month now. He saw no reason to attempt correcting that pattern in his current state so he opted to cover himself with the high thread count sheets and slip back into a mercifully unconscious state.

  Nathan finally roused again around five in the afternoon. He rolled from his stomach to his back in order to stretch and in the process heard the crinkling noise of paper beneath him. Maddie Sherratt’s canary yellow letter was creased many times over but still intact despite Nathan’s restless slumber. He sat up and rubbed his eyes in an attempt to remember the last twenty-four hours.

  The Zero Gravity premiere had been last night, Nathan remembered. Young girls and mature women had screamed as he walked the red carpet alone, a thousand flashbulbs blinding him the entire way. Gerard sat next to him in the theater as that atrocious movie played on the silver screen for the first time. There was an after party. Definitely an open bar. And a little white pill. Nathan shook his head, disappointed in himself for having even considered taking some unknown drug that a friend had given him. He’d acted like a fool in front of the paparazzi once again. His agent would not be happy.