METHOD

by Kate Stewart

  “Don’t regret it, Lucas.”

  “How can I not? Look at us? Look at what happened…to Blake.” He cups the back of his head with both hands and squeezes his eyes shut, his forearms covering his face. It takes him several seconds to speak.

  “I met with the woman throwing Blake’s name around the tabloids, and I lost it, Mila. I lost it. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, he—”

  “Lucas,” I whisper, and his eyes shoot up to mine. “I’ve gathered my own conclusions about what went down, and I think I’m right?”

  He nods.

  “With respect to Blake, I know he died trying to keep his secrets, and I want to honor that. I love him enough to respect that. I know it goes against the honesty I’ve been fighting for as far as you’re concerned, and you did what you had to do. I know that. And if you want to talk about it for you—”

  He shakes his head.

  “Are you going to tell Amanda?”

  “Maybe, probably later, but yes, I think she deserves to know.”

  “Good. As hard as it will be for her to hear, she probably should.”

  Chests laden with heartache, we get lost in our own thoughts.

  “Mila,” he swallows audibly, his eyes drinking me in. “Are you okay?” They drift lower. “Is our baby okay?”

  “We’re both perfect. It’s early. I’m only six weeks along now.”

  “You think the universe answered that one for me?” he asks with a shy smile. I can see his wheels turning, and I clue him in.

  “I hope not.”

  He draws his brows. “Why?”

  “We conceived that day in your trailer,” I say around the knot in my throat and see when the truth of it registers. “That’s one of the reasons I’ve been so angry.”

  “Jesus,” he says, palming his forehead. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “You have to,” I say, drawing his attention. “You have to, Lucas. You have to just like I have to. It’s a decision.”

  He slowly nods. “When did you find out?”

  “The morning of the day I told you.”

  “I ruined that too.”

  “That was my decision. I set you up to ruin that. You were so far gone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. I am too.”

  His features twist with longing. “Are you ever going to let me touch you?”

  “I’m kind of waiting to see what your plans are.”

  “Plans?” he rasps out in a thick voice, eyes watering. “I’m fresh out.”

  “I’ve made some of my own.”

  “You have?” His Adam’s apple bobs. “Okay.”

  “I’m going to be a sommelier. I’m going to grow my own vines and make wine.”

  He pushes out a relieved breath. “I love your plan.”

  “I’m also going to take advice from a grasshopper and take life a little less seriously before summer runs out.”

  “It’s good advice.”

  “I loved that grasshopper,” I say as his face falls, “I really did.”

  “I know,” he speaks up, his voice overcome with emotion. “God, look at you.” The admiration in his eyes steals my breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. You and that baby you carry, that’s what I want, to have a family. With you I have all of it. You hold all of my hope, Mila. All of it. I can’t lose you—”

  “You haven’t,” I say, dropping the flowers and crashing into him. He audibly exhales and his arms wrap tightly around me. We lock together, overwhelmed and crying.

  After endless seconds, he pulls away, kissing me thoroughly, the thrust of his tongue lulling us into a peaceful reprieve from all the ache. The salty kiss sparks a healing, a beginning and we both sigh into it with collective relief. When we pull away, I bury my face in his chest, and we exchange whispers.

  “Let’s get on this plan.”

  I nod into his chest. “Okay, but you’re going to have to call and apologize to my mother.”

  “I already have.”

  “Good.”

  “I mean it. Let’s leave today. Half my shit is in my truck.”

  “Fine with me.”

  “I’m serious, Mila. I’m done with this.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “You don’t think I’m done?”

  “For the moment, yes, but at one point you loved it far more than you resent it now. And maybe in the future, you’ll decide you love it again.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. It feels over.”

  “Well, if all else fails, in twenty years, when the baby is grown, we’ll come back under the radar as Gladys and Sean McConnery, and you can make a comeback. Let’s bounce that off into the universe and see where it lands.”

  He palms my face with warm hands, grinning down at me. “I missed you so much, Dame, so much.”

  “You can’t act with me, ever again, Lucas. Ever.”

  “I won’t,” he says, stroking my cheeks with reverent thumbs. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He presses our foreheads together.

  “So, where are we off to?”

  “We’ll figure it out, the three of us.”

  I see the flash of brilliant white before he crushes his lips to mine.

  Yazoo News Alert:

  Silver Ghost grosses $150 million at the box office opening weekend!

  “Never underestimate the power of silence. You can use it as the best weapon, but it’s also a good indicator of re-invention. Those you see as softly-spoken and meek may have already scaled your mountain. Stay humble and grow that way. That’s how you live with yourself.”—Madelyn “Maddie” Rosera Darling

  Casey and Bonnie Morning Radio Show

  Casey: Bonnie, what in the hell happened to Lucas Walker?

  Bonnie: Where has that boy been?

  Casey: That’s a good question, and I’m going to tell you.

  Bonnie: Tell me, girl, I’ve been missing our boy.

  Casey: Apparently, Hollywood Golden Boy Lucas Walker decided to clip his own wings even after receiving an Oscar nomination for his part in the controversial crime thriller Silver Ghost. Close friends to Walker state he’s on a much-needed hiatus due to his growing family and other personal goals. Other sources say Walker suffered severe psychological issues on the set because of the suicide of his best friend Blake West and cracked further under the pressure of playing one of the world’s most notorious mobsters.

  Bonnie: Damn good movie. Our boy did good. Glad he’s okay.

  Casey: I agree. He had me scared for a minute.

  Bonnie: I miss Blake West. Blake was so talented. Underrated.

  Casey: I agree. He should have gotten a lot more credit. Still miss him.

  Bonnie: So where did our boy run off to?

  Casey: Well, according to the reports coming in, Walker and his wife, Mila, have been living in the south of France since the birth of their son, and have been spotted with their little man globe-trotting all over Europe, Spain, India, Australia, and South Africa. Apparently, they’ve been working with a foundation to help fund the building of new schools.

  Bonnie: That’s so admirable, and that little boy is so cute. He looks just like his daddy. Good for them. But when are they coming back?

  Casey: It looks like not anytime soon. Recent rumors have been circulating that Walker has enrolled in a college in London.

  Bonnie: He what?! He’s going to college?

  Casey: Looks like our boy is going all the way and has declared a double major.

  Bonnie: What in the hell for? The man is a millionaire! What’s he going to do…become an architect?

  Casey: Some say an education is priceless.

  Bonnie: Then he can have my education and give me his millions.

  Casey: It seems silly to waste all that time when he could be making us more good movies.

  Bonnie: Total waste, if you ask me.

  Casey: Easy, girl, let them do them. You know we see a
trend with this, actors giving back after they’ve made it big. They must feel a sense of responsibility for what they’re capable of contributing, and the influence they have and are trying to do something good with it.

  Bonnie: You’re right, you’re right, and they’re still my favorite couple. Mila is fierce.

  Casey: I guess she can support them with all that money she’s making off her vines.

  Bonnie: For real though, that’s the best wine I’ve ever tasted on my Pilates.

  Casey: That’s palate, Bon.

  Bonnie: Right. So anyway, we love you, Lucas and Mila. We’ll be here when you decide to come home.

  Casey: That’s right, guys, we wish you the best. And when you get back, we’ll welcome you back with open arms—

  Bonnie: And legs.

  Casey: Bonnie!

  Bonnie: Just kidding, Mila. But if you ever decide to share, message a girl and good luck you two.

  Casey: And rest in peace, Blake.

  Bonnie: We love you, Blake.

  Casey: Such a damn shame. Speaking of Blake West, remember his show Buzzed?

  Bonnie: I loved that show. Didn’t they cancel that after one season?

  Casey: Yep. Anyway, check this out. Two of the producers most known for their work on Buzzed have just been charged with sexual harassment and assault. Aaron Thompson and Steven Tungsten went on to produce a few movies. Several of which our boys starred in.

  Bonnie: Those poor women. I hope they get justice.

  Casey: Me too. One source says that one of the accusers has come forward with concrete evidence that there were incidents that took place on set after taping, but the cameras weren’t off. To respect the privacy of the victims, the judge has ordered the hearings to remain closed.

  Bonnie: That’s video evidence. Talk about caught in the act. Daaaaamn. But isn’t there a statute of limitations on that?

  Casey: The tape puts them right at the edge of the mark. The trial is set for next week. Guess like it’s time to take out more Tinseltown trash and someone’s about to pay the piper.

  Bonnie: Glad our boys weren’t anywhere near that mess.

  Casey: Not our boys.

  Mila

  I cradle Ronin to my chest as he audibly sighs in exhaustion before passing out, his full lips making little sucking movements while his father’s green eyes watched me until they finally drifted closed. I stare at his little foot, his tiny toes curling in protest when I lift it to press my lips against his heel. I can’t get enough of him, he’s my new addiction and every part of him is perfect. We’re comfortable in our new plush bed buried in a dozen pillows, but my attention is pulled away when I see his father on the screen while Greg Kinnear reads off the nominees for Best Actor. The camera pans to Lucas’s face as he gives a smile and a little nod after the film clip and the following applause.

  “And the Oscar goes to…” Greg slowly opens the envelope and is clapping as he announces, “Lucas Walker for Silver Ghost.” The crowd rises to their feet instantly, his peers shouting out their enthusiastic congrats as he stands and hugs Amanda tightly to him while she cries into his jacket. She nods once as he whispers to her before reaching over to shake Wes’s hand. Pulling his tuxedo jacket closed, he buttons it before ascending the stage. He’s dashing, he’s a movie star, if only for a little longer.

  In all my years as his wife, I’ve never been more in awe of him, and it’s not just because he won, it’s because of what it took him to get there—what he sacrificed, the demons he slayed—not only Blake’s but his own. While I could never entirely forget the hell he’d turned our union into, every move was calculated, every risk he took was to protect his best friend, to resurrect him, to give them both peace, and to free himself from the shackles of expectations he’d locked himself into.

  We didn’t heal overnight. Between doing and saying, it took me more time to fully forgive him and trust was a little more hard-earned. At the end of it all, it became simplistic. Lucas’s journey truly wasn’t about me or our marriage. His journey was about a friendship that formed long before I came into the picture, a friendship I will never fully understand. A friendship that ended so abruptly it left my husband reeling, lost and unable to heal without going through the type of grieving that forever changed him. And change he did. Looking gorgeous, Lucas saunters up the steps, taking his award and his congrats before turning to the podium and staring at the Oscar long and hard before he sets it down.

  “First, thank you, Wes, for trusting me. I know I didn’t make it easy on you, although you did get more than you bargained for. Two for the price of one.”

  Wes nods toward Lucas in silent recognition. Wes knew. Maybe not entirely, but he was fully aware Lucas would bring his grief on set. Wes expected it, which is what made it work. He’d used Lucas’s pain just as much as Lucas had used it for the role. Morally it was fucked up, but it’s what worked. And all I see in Wes’s eyes as the camera pans in on the row full of the cast is his respect. It’s as clear as day. Shannon has been calling nonstop since the film released begging Lucas to consider more offers, but Lucas refuses to bother looking. He’s stayed firm in his decision to quit. He has other plans. Studying him now, dressed to the nines, his hair much longer now, he looks in to the crowd with a solemn face as he speaks out for the first time about his fallen brother.

  “It’s no big secret Blake West was a brother to me, and if it weren’t for him, I literally wouldn’t be standing here. He left us, left me, in a way I could have never prepared for and will never be able to rectify. But I’m here tonight too because he was a large part of who I am today. Good or bad, he taught me a lot more than anyone ever could about this life, a life he deserved to live to the fullest.” Swallowing, Lucas pulls out a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s worn, brown, and folded in fourths. My chest begins to ache because I can clearly see the emotion building in his face as he studies the words.

  “Blake wrote this when we were living as rejects together in a box-sized bungalow in West Hollywood. I think it’s only fitting that his ‘what if’ speech be my own.” The camera pans in on Amanda, who Lucas took to the Oscars, while I’m stuck in our new temporary home overseas and for good reason. I’m going to have another baby. And this one was conceived in an entirely different way. Through trust and love.

  More in love than I thought imaginable. I stare at the chance I took all those years ago, along with the decision I make every day and watch on in admiration of what he’s achieved.

  Lucas laughs through watery eyes and glances at the audience with a rueful grin. “Sorry, Blake, but I have to,” he says conspiratorially before he holds a hand to the side of his mouth letting the audience in on the joke. “There’s a script note first, it says, ‘After a lengthy and mind-blowing standing ovation.’” The audience laughs as a picture of Blake slowly appears behind Lucas. I audibly gasp at the image, the sight of Blake as strong as his presence is in that room because Lucas brought him there. He won’t let them forget. Hot tears stream down my cheeks as I study the photo. It’s a candid of Blake smiling like he just ate the canary. The image is a reminder of what we lost, what we all lost. It’s then that I realize that as much grief as he’s given us all, I still have love for the person he was. Lucas’s voice brings me back to the moment, but it’s Blake’s words that strike the hardest.

  “This gig was hard. I lost myself in it.” Lucas audibly swallows as his eyes fully glaze over and he pauses. “I trusted people, and I got burned.” I can see the visible shake inside Lucas. He’s doing everything he can to keep it together, but there is no acting through this, the loss is apparent, and he’s trying to close the door. He looks out into the crowd. “But I got a trophy for it, and it’s only worth something in this minute, this minute right here is what it’s all for. The recognition that I might have done something worthwhile, that I was a part of a bigger picture, that my work means something and as an artist, I guess that’s all you hope for, just a moment. This moment.” Th
e audience goes eerily silent. “That’s all I get, a minute maybe more to sum up my journey before that music starts, and I’m forced to make my exit, so I’ll make it quick.”

  Lucas hesitates as emotions get the best of him and he squeezes his eyes shut.

  “Come on, baby,” I whisper at the screen as I cradle our son to me and inhale the scent of his dark hair.

  Lucas presses his lips together, his voice coming out hoarse when he speaks. “I don’t know if it’s worth the cost.” Lucas falters briefly, and I can hear an audible sob in the crowd that I know belongs to Amanda. Lucas gathers himself and lifts his chin. “You know this life can take a toll, perception can be our nemesis, and the message we send is the most significant part of what we do. I can only hope I played well and hope you remember me as part of your bigger picture because legacy…that’s the hardest gig of all.”

  “I want to thank my brother, Lucas, for trying to rescue me from myself. I know how hard you try.” Lucas falters again, and the crowd applauds for him as he finally breaks on stage for the world to see. It lasts for endless seconds as they give Lucas the breathing room he needs, the room he deserves, and the encouragement to continue. When the clapping dies down, he focuses on Amanda. “And for the woman who decided to love me in spite of the bastard I am, I hope this helps you understand your sacrifice, and if it doesn’t, I’m sorry, and I hope I showed you that you were always worth more.”