There was so much on her mind tonight. There was the film she wanted to do—just talking about it to Berry had fanned the flames of her enthusiasm. The more she thought about it, the more realized that she wanted it as badly as she’d ever wanted a part in a film that she believed in. But this was different, it was bigger, and she ached to do it. It was three hours earlier on the coast; she could still get Norma before she left the office.
And then there’d been the news that both she and Grant were here in St. Dennis, both unencumbered. Well, that might not be true, as far as he was concerned, she really shouldn’t make that assumption. Just because he looked at her the way he used to didn’t mean he wasn’t involved with someone else. Funny how things worked, though, how after all these years …
Her phone, which she’d left on the kitchen table, began to ring, and she went back inside to answer it.
“Norma,” she said as she activated the call. “I was just getting ready to call you. I have a project I want to talk about. But you go first. What’s up?”
“What’s up is your divorce is this close to being final. The only hang-up is still the property settlement. As you know, there’s quite a bit of valuable real estate at stake here.”
“I don’t want any of it. Emilio can have it all.”
“Are you crazy? Uh-huh. I’m not letting you give away millions of dollars. Let’s walk through this.”
“I really don’t want it. Emilio picked out all of those houses except the one in the Canyon, and that’s where he made that damned video. Do you really think I want to ever go inside that place again? Or the one in Palm Springs, where he took that little Brit singer he was playing with last year? I never really stayed in the Manhattan apartment, and I’ve only been to Florida three times.” Dallas frowned. “I don’t have happy memories of any one of them, frankly.”
“Then we’ll tell him we want to sell them all and split the money evenly.”
“He isn’t going to want to do that. He loves his little palaces.”
“Then we’ll split them down the middle. He gets two, you get two.”
“All right, but then you’ll sell my two, okay? I took with me everything that mattered to me when I moved out with Cody. Our clothes, his toys, and some photographs. I don’t care about the rest of it.”
“I’ll see what I can work out with him.”
“If he balks, if he gives you a hard time, you tell him fine, he can keep them all except the apartment in New York as long as when each one is sold, half of the sale price goes into trust for Cody.”
“Dallas …”
“Norma, by most standards, I’ve made an obscene amount of money over the past ten years. Yes, Emilio did spend a lot of it those first few years. But I’ve invested most of what I’ve made since the day I realized what a jackass he is. That was five years ago. I’ve amassed enough to keep Cody and me very comfortable for a very long time. And I’ll offer to not seek child support to keep my investments.”
“I guess now’s the time to tell you that Emilio has asked for alimony.”
Dallas fell silent, then said, “Would he drop that if I offered him all of the properties? On the condition that I mentioned, though, that once sold, half the proceeds go to Cody.”
“He might.” Dallas could hear Norma’s pen tapping on the receiver as she thought over this proposal. “You really want this divorce through now, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
“I want it over and done with as quickly as you can make it happen.”
“I’ll talk to Emilio’s attorney and let you know what he says. Frankly, I can’t see him turning it down. He’s a fool, but he isn’t stupid.” She thought that over. “Well, yes, he is stupid, but his attorney isn’t. So let me see what I can do.”
“There’s something else I want you to look into for me.” Dallas told her how much she’d loved the book Pretty Maids, and her ideas for bringing the story to the screen.
“Wow, what a great idea. I read that book. I can see the story as a film. You have casting in mind?” Norma chuckled. “Like, your aunt as Rosemarie and you as Charlotte? That would be brilliant.”
“Berry would make a perfect Rosemarie,” Dallas agreed. “Once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t imagine anyone else in that role. But as for Charlotte, I actually have someone else in mind for that part, someone who I think would be amazing.”
“Who’d be more amazing than you?”
“Let’s see if we can get the rights, and then see if we can line up a studio. Then we’ll talk casting …”
Dallas closed up the house, locking all the doors and windows, and went into the library and switched on the overhead light. The storm had blown in and the rain now lashed at the windows and the wind bent the willows over and sent their branches flapping, those long thin leaves outstretched like long arms rustling on both sides of the river. Earlier, she’d counted the number of weeks she had left in St. Dennis, and had come up with seven whole weeks and part of another one. If she worked every day, there’d be time enough to write her original work and possibly start on the script for Pretty Maids, if she was lucky enough to get her hands on it.
She sat at her grandfather’s large walnut desk and turned on the small lamp that sat on one corner. The chair was oversize, having been selected for a man of much greater stature than she, and the top of the desk was bare except for a small calendar, a round penholder of worn brown leather, and a faded photograph of her grandparents—Duncan MacGregor and his bride, Sylvie—on their wedding day. She picked it up and studied the faces of two strangers, people she’d never met but had heard so much about. Most of her father’s family died before Dallas was born. Berry and her twin sister had been the youngest of their generation, Dallas’s father one of only three children in his.
She went upstairs and got her laptop and brought it back to the library. She turned to plug it in to recharge the battery, and noticed the row of photos on the bookshelf behind her. She was surprised to find a picture of her and Emilio on their wedding day. She reached for it, then pulled her hand away as if not wanting to touch it. The picture caught the newly married couple on their way out of the church, Dallas looking deliriously happy next to her handsome groom, who looked, she decided, nothing short of smug. Not happy in love, just … smug, as if he knew he’d scored big by marrying one of Hollywood’s most popular and most beautiful stars. Also, Dallas recalled bitterly, one of Hollywood’s highest-paid actors.
Yeah, you really hit the jackpot, didn’t you, you creep?
Her eyes burned for her younger self, who’d believed she’d found the man who would make her happy, the man who’d father their houseful of children. Since the scandal broke, her energy had been focused on protecting Cody, on shielding him from the fallout from his father’s actions as best she could. Even this trip to St. Dennis had been planned with him in mind. She hadn’t permitted herself to dwell on her own feelings of betrayal and loss. Even though she’d known for years that Emilio was a serial cheater, she’d never really mourned what could have been. The blow to her pride when the stories of his infidelities began to circulate had been nothing compared to what she’d felt when she first heard the rumors that he’d married her only to further his career. Having him fall out of love with her was one thing; learning that the love had never existed was something else entirely.
Live and learn, girl. Live and learn.
What was the point of dwelling on what was or wasn’t there? It was done, and she was moving on to the rest of her life and very happily leaving Emilio behind. She opened her laptop and began to make notes on the original idea she had, but her mind kept wandering back to Pretty Maids.
There’d be no harm in playing around with a few scenes. If her offer was declined, she’d delete them. If Norma was successful in making it all happen, she’d be that much further ahead. She started by making some notes to herself about the characters as she understood them and the setting as she saw it, then began the first scene. Before long, sh
e was lost in the story, seeing and hearing the characters as they came to life on her computer screen.
By the time Dallas turned off the computer at 3:20 the next morning, she had the first scene written and revised. The sense of awe she felt—at fleshing out the two remarkable women in the book and making them real, at having taken the first steps toward bringing their story to the screen—took her breath away like nothing had since she’d seen the first of her own film performances on the night it opened in a small theater in a suburb of L.A. She’d slipped into the back row alone and watched, wide-eyed, as her image first appeared. It had been a very small role in a very small film, but it hadn’t mattered. It had been hers, and she’d been filled with pride in the good job she’d done.
She’d gone alone because it had been a moment too big to share with casual acquaintances. When she left the theater, she headed right back to her tiny apartment and called the one person she knew who’d understand. Berry had already turned in for the night but had been delighted at the call and full of encouragement and pride, as Dallas had known she would be. For Dallas, the night had been nothing short of magical.
Tonight’s work had filled her with the same sense of accomplishment and joy. She read the completed scene over and over, and each time, she rejoiced, knowing that the magic was there. She hooked up her printer and printed out the scene and turned off the lights. Tomorrow she’d go to the office supply store outside of town and pick up some supplies: more paper, more ink, some notepads, some file folders. She snapped off the hall light and walked up the steps, past the portraits of her ancestors and those of her costumed aunt. She fell asleep across her bed, the credits rolling in her head: Screenplay by Dallas MacGregor, adapted from the novel written by Victoria Seymour …
Chapter 9
Dallas was already behind closed doors in the library when Berry and Cody came back into the house from their morning tai chi. Berry knocked before opening the door, then poked in her head.
“Pardon the interruption, dear, but we’re wondering if you’re going to join us for breakfast.”
“I’m just having coffee,” Dallas said without taking her eyes from the computer screen.
“There are peaches and some yogurt in the fridge if you get hungry later. Cody and I are going to eat and go to the library.”
Dallas nodded, and Berry began to close the door quietly, but Cody slipped through and bounded into the room.
“Mom, we’re going to go to the library right after breakfast ’cause I want to be there early.” He threw himself onto her lap, forcing her to back away from the keyboard. “I can write my name on the activity paper for next week and I can tell Logan that I am going to stay here until September seventh.”
“Who is Logan?” Dallas leaned back in the oversize chair and ran her fingers through her boy’s hair.
“He’s my friend at story hour.” Cody squirmed away from her hand. “And I can’t wait to see what happens next in the story Mrs. Anderson is reading to us.”
“Sorry, Dallas,” Berry told her from the doorway. “I was trying not to disturb you.”
“It’s fine, Berry. I was going to have to stop soon anyway to run to that office supply store to pick up a few things I need.”
“Do you have a list? Cody and I can stop after the library and pick up whatever you need so that you can continue working. I could tell by the look on your face when I opened the door that you were totally absorbed in whatever it is you’re doing.”
Dallas smiled. “I spoke with Norma last night. She’s going to contact Victoria Seymour and see if we can negotiate the film rights for Pretty Maids. But I’m so excited about the project that I decided I’d just start working on a possible screenplay. You know, in case it works out, I’ll be that much farther along with the project. And yes, I was totally absorbed in it. It’s such a wonderful story. You really should read the book.”
“I’ll see if Barbara has another copy. I’m curious to see what it is about this story that has you so enthused.”
“I’ll be very interested to know what you think of it. I think the characters are absolutely … well, read it and we’ll talk about it.”
“I’ll stop at Book ’Em between the library and the office supply store. Go ahead and make that list for me.” Berry waved Cody to the door, and shut it behind them, leaving Dallas to work on her new project.
It seemed like no time at all had passed between the moment Dallas handed Berry her list of supplies and the second she heard the back door slam to announce their arrival back home. She glanced at the digital clock on her computer and was stunned to see that almost three hours had gone by.
“We have your stuff, Mom.” Cody pushed open the door and carried a plastic bag directly to the desk. “I have pens and a stapler and paper clips and boxes of ink.”
“Thank you, Cody.” Dallas pushed the chair back and reached out for the bag, but her son went past her to dump the contents of the bag onto the desk.
“See? Pens with blue ink and some with red, like you wanted. And this box has big paper clips in it.” He held up a box with the picture of a big clip on it. “And these are pencils. I had to show Berry the kind you like best.”
Dallas picked up the package of mechanical pencils. “And you’re exactly right. This is the kind I like best.”
“Dear, I had no idea you had such a thing about refillable lead pencils.” Berry came in with a box of file folders on top of a box of computer paper. Dallas got up to take the load from her aunt.
“I have it, Dallas. I’m not a weakling, you know. I’m just going to drop them right here.” The boxes landed with a thud on the worn Oriental carpet. “There is another box of paper for your printer in the car, but my arms aren’t long enough to carry more than one at a time.”
“I’ll get it. Thank you so much for picking up everything for me. I really appreciate it.” Dallas stood and stretched. “I got quite a bit done on the second scene.”
“Why don’t you go get that other box from the car, and use this as your break? Anita came to clean this morning, and she made some of her delicious chicken salad for us to have for lunch. I’d love to sit out on the back porch to eat. Last night’s rain cooled things off quite nicely, and there’s a delightful breeze off the Bay, so we’re not only cooler and less humid today, but we’re bug-free as well.”
“How could anyone turn down an offer like that?” Dallas saved her work and closed the program.
Twenty minutes later, they were enjoying lunch on the small back porch that was just wide enough for the wicker table and six chairs. Dallas was distracted, still thinking about how best to write her scene, but Cody chattered away. Finally, Berry tapped her on the arm and said, “You’re a million miles away, dear. Why don’t you go back to work until it’s time to go to see Grant.”
“See Grant?” Dallas blinked. Was she going to see Grant today?
“To see the dog he called about last night, remember?” Berry prodded.
“We’re gonna get a dog! We’re gonna get a dog!” Cody sang out at the top of his lungs.
“Perhaps, child. We’ll see.” Berry turned back to Dallas. “You can get another few hours of work in. We’ll give you ten minutes’ heads-up before it’s time to leave.” She studied Dallas for a moment. “You might want to think about changing into something that doesn’t say ‘working at home and don’t give a damn how I look’ quite so loudly. And a little makeup might help, while you’re at it. You have circles under your eyes and look as if you haven’t slept in several days.”
“I was up until three working,” Dallas admitted. “But I don’t know that I need to go with you today.”
“Of course you do, dear. What if we can’t decide between dogs? We’ll need you as the tiebreaker.”
“You have a point. And I suppose a little cleanup before I leave the house is in order.” Especially if she was going to see Grant. Not that it mattered, but, still … “A twenty-minute heads-up would be appreciated, Berry. Thank you.�
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Dallas stood and held the door for her son, who was suddenly helpful again, as he appeared at her elbow carrying the basket of rolls from lunch and the salt and pepper shakers. He smiled at her angelically, and she glanced over her shoulder at Berry and rolled her eyes. Berry laughed, and followed them into the kitchen.
Berry sat on the porch and thumbed through the day’s mail while keeping one eye on Cody, who was crabbing off the dock with a raw chicken neck tied to a length of string. Earlier he announced that today he would catch crabs. He was doing okay luring them to the bait, but still hadn’t mastered the art of scooping them up with the net, so the bucket he’d prepared with cool water and seaweed held no crabs. So far he’d lost five big ones, he’d told Berry mournfully, because he wasn’t fast enough to catch them before they saw the net coming and disappeared into the eelgrass.
“The only way to learn is to practice,” Berry had told him, and he’d nodded, determined to perfect his technique.
Berry set aside the magazines and the small pile of envelopes, and watching Cody’s efforts, offered a simple prayer of thanks for the unexpected blessing she’d so recently received. Dallas’s call out of the blue, asking if she and Cody could come for a visit, had been nothing short of a miracle. Berry had hated to admit, even to herself, just how lonely she’d been. Lonely always sounded so needy. But if the truth were to be told, there was no denying that she was paying the price for the years of independence she’d enjoyed when she was a much younger woman, the woman who had had the world by the tail and had enjoyed every last moment of her fame and stardom.
The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge Page 42