by Ames, Alex
“No one ever talks about his dead daughter in his presence. I’m even afraid to write the word daughter in my reply to him.”
Rick shook his head. “This is beyond me. So you’re not going to come to Dana’s daycare parent’s summer fest?”
“Rick, I can’t. I really can’t.”
“But then you tell her yourself!”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes! No! Both! Not mad. I am disappointed that Dana doesn’t have priority in your new life.”
“I’ll make it up to Dana.”
In the evening, Rick joined Louise in bed, where she was already lying on her back and reading a book. “You still mad?”
“A little bit. Did you talk to Dana?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“Same thing you said,” Louise answered, and then mimicked Dana’s voice. “‘Don’t you wanna see me sing?’ I explained to her as best as I could, but it was heartbreaking.”
“Lou, can I give you a piece of advice from a seasoned parent to a rookie? Especially now that you are late in the game?”
“Sure, I’ll take all the help I can get.”
“There will be no tomorrow when it comes to kids. Dana is the youngest. Everything that will happen to her, will be the last time in our lives. It is her first time singing a song for us with her co-daycare toddlers; there will be no second first time. She will soon learn to ride a bicycle. After that event, there will be no other kid in this family learning to ride the bike. Same goes for the last first day of school in two years. Lou, if you are missing these steps in her life, you will be missing them in your life, too. You go to that producer’s event on Sunday, you will never see your stepdaughter’s first play. Sure there will be others, but they will be routine; you’ll miss the excitement of watching your kid learn or do something for the first time. Remember that.”
Louise had no reply. She hated herself for the poor handling of the situation, but in her industry you simply did not say no to Farber Sellman.
After they had switched off the light and lay side by side in the dark, Louise cuddled up to Rick.
“You still awake?”
“Hm?”
“We could solve this first-time problem if we produce another Flint. Dana doesn’t need to be the youngest.”
“That is a huge step in our relationship, don’t you think? We’ve been together for less than half a year, and you are still away most of the time.”
“But would you?”
“Lou, this is not a talk to have in bed while I am half-asleep. This is a talk when you are walking along the beach before sunset.”
“Then I will invite you for that. I’ll ask Hal to put it on your calendar for tomorrow.”
“Can I sleep now?” Rick muttered.
“Yes, honey.”
After a minute, Louise whispered, “Would you insist on the letter E?”
“Absolutely. And Emile is out.”
“Eugene? Eudora?”
“The poor kid!”
Louise
Tuesday had a scheduled shoot for a promo, so Louise had decided to sleep over at the Malibu house. After the fight on Sunday and a cranky Rick, it was good to give themselves a little distance for a day or two. Floris didn’t have to check the house, as Emile was already waiting for them with the latest material for the promo and some other business matters on Monday afternoon.
“There is one more thing,” Emile said, more seriously than usual after they had gone over the agenda, dresses, and the lines. “I want to give you notice.”
“Emile,” Louise exclaimed. “What happened?”
“Louise, face it, you don’t need me anymore. You are winding down your engagements, and we haven’t had an interaction like this for the last two weeks. I am bored stiff. Arielle is equally able to run the rest of your daily affairs.” He gave a small smile. “And you have better taste in fashion than I do anyway, honey.”
“I don’t know what to say. Do you already know what is next for you?”
“I have a good offer from another A-lister. My Spanish lessons paid off.”
Louise got up and hugged Emile. “All the best then. It is a change, but it is simply logical. I am winding down my career and have a different schedule now.”
The yearly Farber Sellman garden party had the longest red carpet of all events in Hollywood. This year the carpet measured exactly 239 feet. At its end Sellman stood with his wife of fifty years, Maria, and shook the hand of every guest who made the trek from the limo drop-off zone, up the majestic driveway, past the designated media area, to the mansion. Sellman was a little shrunken man who embraced the dream-making business to its fullest. Whatever he had done or still did, it always had to have flair. Beneath it was a hard-boiled businessman who knew exactly how the business worked. He was in his midseventies but was still a constant presence in the industry, well connected, and always true to his word.
Louise and Josh made their way up the hill. Josh had offered himself as a replacement. They hadn’t seen each other since the promotional pre-interviews for Sell! Sell! Sell! in June. Josh took most of the questions; Louise just gave a nice smile. Of course everyone’s second question was “Where’s your boyfriend?” Louise smiled and answered in true media-professional fashion, “Isn’t this an awesome entrance to the party? Look at all these people! Farber and Maria have outdone themselves.”
Then they stood in line for the handshake with the host and his wife, various other celebrities in front of them.
Josh held Louise’s hand. “You’re nervous, Lou-baby!”
“You don’t look so hot yourself,” Louise observed. Josh looked stressed out; he hid most of it under his usual perfect tan, but hollow eyes and too many easy laughs belied his exterior.
“I am going under again, can’t help it. And before you ask, thank you very much, no, you can’t help me,” Josh said. “A solid combination of depression, addiction, and self destruction.”
“I thought you to be pretty stable during Sell! Sell! Sell!”
“Me too, but my mood is like the weather.” He frowned. “Is that already a song title? If not, you heard it first here. Our turn.”
“Maria, Farber, so delighted, thanks for your invitation,” Louise said and hugged first Maria and then Farber.
Farber switched his genial host face to a scowl. “Waters, didn’t I request the presence of your shipbuilding boyfriend? That’s not him. Who is this man, anyway?” He pointed a finger accusingly at Josh, who just raised his hands in a mock moi mais non gesture.
Louise felt like a little girl caught dipping into the cookie jar. “Rick had to excuse himself. His youngest daughter has her first recital at the kindergarten.”
“A fine man you have there!” Sellman said gruffly. “I would have liked to meet him. Must be some love to throw your career away!”
Maria Sellman stepped in and pulled her husband away. “He is just jealous, Louise, because he secretly expects me to die before him so that he could marry you himself.” Her husband nudged her playfully, but kept his sour face.
“And you are?”
“Josh Hancock, I made you a hundred million dollars in the late nineties,” Josh said, slightly ruffled for not being recognized.
“Yesterday’s hundred million are two hundred million today.” Sellman patted Josh’s cheek like a capo. “Enjoy the party!”
Sellman turned to the next guests in line, and the last thing Louise and Josh heard Maria Sellman say was, “We shouldn’t have watched The Godfather last night. Poor Louise, poor Josh. You rattled them . . .”
Josh glanced at Louise. “Think he was pulling our leg?” He was actually sweating.
“I hope.” Louise frowned as they entered the mansion, slapped away Josh’s hand from the Champagne, and picked up sparkling water glasses instead.
The party hosted everyone who either had a name or had green-lighting powers in Hollywood, and Louise drifted from group to group. Some greeted her
like old friends, as if she was still one of them. Others somehow managed never to be in the same conversation circle as her. But for Louise this was all right. In a way this was her farewell tour. Next year she probably would be sitting with Rick in the garden of the school, watching Dana’s next summer recital.
There was no formal dinner, just some finger food and a salad buffet and a gigantic barbecue. Louise maneuvered to the salad buffet and picked here and there.
“Look who the cat dragged in.” Louise heard a voice from beside her. Madge Hardy stood there, also picking some dietary scraps from the buffet. Body before nutrition, both women understood.
Where Louise was the shielded superstar who avoided contact with fans and media whenever possible, Madge still bathed in fame and crowds, underscored by a constant entourage of artists and hangers-on. But looks-wise, the women could have been sisters. Both had the million-dollar smiles and loud laughs that everyone loved to hear, both had a perfect body with just ten years between them, and blonde hair, Louise’s straight and Madge’s with a curly wave.
“If it’s not my second favorite movie actress,” Louise replied. “Honey, how are you?” She picked a small bowl of tomatoes with buffalo mozzarella and a single basil leaf.
“Already tired of your suburb?” Madge asked with a concentrated frown on her face. “Oh, no, I remember, they wouldn’t let a Chrysler family wagon onto the premises!” Some of Madge’s entourage snickered.
“Still looking for your next dream role, after I snatched away Five Ways of Solitude?” Louise poked. She saw Bruce Willis mouthing to Arnold Schwarzenegger on the other side of the salad buffet: “Catfight.”
“That was not nice. I should empty my mojito over your head, but it would be a waste.”
Open laughter from the hangers-on.
“Honey, that’s the best you have? Two laughs from the bought crowd?” Louise waved her off. “Dismissed.”
Madge turned red. “You trailer-park tramp, don’t tell me anything about my career. No one will remember you in ten years from now.” She cocked her hip and put her finger on the back of her nose. “In fact, I think no one will even remember that you came to this party next year.”
With that, Madge turned around and wiggled her little behind at Louise, the followers forming around her again.
With the sure knowledge that at Hollywood parties someone was always filming something and that anything on video would find its way to the outside world, Louise took the bowl of tuna salad, ran two quick steps to catch up with Madge, and emptied it over her head. Madge’s loud scream turned everyone’s head while Louise went back to the buffet, and continued to eat her mozzarella. Madge came charging, tackled Louise in full run, and both women crashed into the fully loaded salad buffet sideways, taking it down with them. All hell broke loose!
Louise came home from the party in some baggy loaner-clothing and a plastic bag with the ruined Armani dress in hand. Rick greeted her at the door, just having come back from the childcare event and dinner himself.
“Did you sneak out East to get a college degree after all?” he commented on the washed-out Princeton sweatshirt.
“Shut up! I am mad at the world. And myself.”
“Backrub?”
“Are you out of your mind, Rick Flint?” she started but then saw Rick’s rolling eyes. “Oh, you mean for me? Sure, I couldn’t say no to that,” Louise said, ears turning red.
The video of the two divas crashing into the buffet went viral, to be picked up by Jimmy Fallon on Monday in his opening.
“You probably heard about the fight between Madge Hardy and Louise Waters at a Hollywood party on Sunday. If not, you have probably watched the video. And if you’ve just returned from a trip to North Korea, have a look.” A shaky smartphone video in high resolution showed Louise coming back from the tuna attack, cleaning her hands, picking up a small bowl and a fork. Like a truck, Madge slammed into her, hands, legs, and food flying around, the two women screaming and fighting, people shouting.
“Man, this tackle by Madge? Having seen this, the New York Jets offered her a contract as linebacker.” Big laughter. “Having seen this, the Detroit Lions, not the most successful in their field, offered a contract as guard . . . to the buffet table.”
Agnes sat beside Louise and Rick, who had cuddled up on the couch. “See that was not too bad.”
“Having seen this, Wilson, the NFL equipment producer, offered a contract to Louise Waters . . . as a ball.”
The house came down with laughter. Louise groaned, and Rick had to hide his face.
“Okay, that was bad,” Agnes said.
“The NFL protested. They claim that Louise doesn’t fit the measurements of an NFL ball.” The picture changed to Louise picking up the mini mozzarella salad a second before Madge brought her down.
“Louise says, ‘Sure. But give me two months on these mini salads and I’ll be there for Super Bowl.’ Now give it up for the Roots!”
Madge crashed into Louise in slow motion to the tune of Springsteen’s “Hungry Heart.”
twenty
The Hitch
Louise
Agnes’s eightteenth birthday fell on a Sunday. Agnes celebrated with her friends the Saturday evening with a restaurant visit, followed by a music club crawl. Floris drove the small group around and got them into all of the trendy spots in LA. A big celbratory toast marked the midnight hour—non-alcoholic of course—accompanied by an avalanche of text messages from family and friends.
Sunday was the birthday’s family day—cut in half, because Agnes slept in until lunchtime.
Her siblings had each prepared a gift. A small crayon drawing from Dana with the four of them on the beach and the number eighteen clumsily written into the blue sky. Charles had found a tiny crystal druse of about one inch in size on a field trip with the Oxnard Science Club. He had recut the stone, polished its exterior and expertly had turned it into a unique necklace. Britta gifted her sister a book from one of Agnes's favorite authors. Rick and Louise held out with their gift until afternoon dinner, when they went out to a local Italian restaurant that everyone accepted and liked.
The dinner was a loud affair. Godfather Hal joined them for the festivity. Agnes sat at the end of the table with her dad on her right. The left chair was empty with a plate for absent Mom, something Louise found moving and lovable, one more of these little family tidbits to remember forever. She sat beside Rick and Hal opposite her and took care of Dana, who sat beside her in a high chair.
Louise nibbled on her salad and enjoyed watching the family display of banter, loud talking, and eating. She felt bad, because she had threatened Rick with the Paris trip. Such a simple thing, being together in moments like these, was rewarding in a much more profound way than a commercial splurge of fashion, or high-end travel, or a Hollywood party.
“I am stuffed like a turkey,” Britta said to her brother.
“Well, technically you are not, you just ate too much, but I understand your problem,” Charles smiled. He pushed back his leftover ice cream towards Dana who did not say no, stuffed or not.
“Hey guys, your sister turned eighteen today,” Rick started. “I am not doing a big speech thing and tell you what a cute baby you had been and how many times I had to get up during the night for diaper changes and feeding,” Rick continued.
“Don't listen to him. Every time I visited and your mother was on a business trip, he delegated the cruel tasks to me,” Hal reminded him.
“You’ve always been ‘the big sister’ for your siblings, and I can't tell you how glad and grateful I am, that despite hard times, we have stayed closely together as a family. Many more of these moments will come in the next years with all of you kids growing up so fast. But experiencing this moment for the first time, makes me immensely proud. And I bet your mother would be, too. I know, she is with us right now, she never missed a party!” He produced a five-by-five black flat jewelry case. “And it is time to hand over some of your mother’s legacy to you.
This has been in Bella’s family forever. Your mother, your grandmother and her mother, too, all have worn it at their weddings.”
“Agnes marries?” Dana chimed from her side of the desk, almost bursting from suspense, staring at the still closed box.
“Not yet,” Charles explained. “She is still missing a man.”
Agnes gave a small shriek when Rick opened the box. Even Louise held her breath. They looked at one of the most beautiful necklaces ever. The pearls were not massive, but you could see they were not artificial but the real deal, neither being totally round, nor perfectly white. Their imperfection even ennobled them in a natural way,
“Dad, are you sure?” Agnes stammered. “These are so . . . Mom!”
“Agnes, your mother is not here anymore to use them. These pearls are made for wearing, and this is what she would have wanted. For someone of the next generation to carry on the family tradition. Turn, honey,” Rick said and fastened the necklace behind her. Everyone oh-ed and ah-ed when she showed off the necklace to the table. Louise watched Rick swallowing; the pearls looked perfect on Agnes, the way they surely had looked perfect around Bella’s neck. A mental snapshot for eternity.
Agnes had teary eyes and threw her hands around her father.
Rick
Rick and the kids waved good-bye to Louise as the limo left the driveway. “Now we are the fearless five again,” Rick said.
“She promised to Skype regularly!” Britta said, patting her dad on the back.
“And there is nothing to be jealous about—they split up right after filming the movie late last year,” Charles stated with TMZ-borne authority.
Agnes and Britta turned red and elbowed Charles, but Rick turned. “What do you mean, split up? With who?”
“It’s with whom, Dad. Nothing really.”
“Spit it out, son,” Rick demanded.
“Louise and the bad guy in the film she is promoting had a romance during the shoot of the movie. It was all over the media.”