“Hi,” I stammered to Veronica Robison as I put down my backpack. “I’m Aidan’s girlfriend, Jeannie.”
Veronica took my proffered hand. “I’m Veronica. It’s nice to finally meet you. Aidan talks about you all of the time.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was every bit as beautiful in person as she was on-screen. Not only that, but she actually seemed like a normal human being. I became uncomfortably aware of my tangled hair and lack of makeup. By the end of a day, I pretty much looked like I had been through the wringer, as my mom would say. Montana looked elegant and confident as she lounged next to Aidan. She had a polite smile glued to her face that told me I had interrupted a pleasant evening.
Aidan asked me if I wanted a drink, but I shook my head. What I really wanted was to escape to the bedroom, quickly put some lipstick on, and lose ten pounds before I reappeared. “We were just discussing our next film,” Aidan told me. I was pleased for him. He had been trying to land Veronica Robison for almost two years.
“Then we got on to the subject of babies,” Veronica smiled.
“She saw the photos of my stepbrother and -sister and thought they were ours,” Aidan explained.
“I would love to have a baby,” Veronica said. “But I seem to keep doing movies one after another that involve either some nudity or stunts or both.”
“Aidan loves kids,” Montana cooed. This was true. Aidan made sure he spent time with Max and Audrey, his half-siblings. He’d taken them on ski trips and had hosted many a birthday party. He genuinely liked their company and I did too. They were fun, smart, and funny.
Having a baby still seemed like an abstract idea to me. But both of us could hear my biological clock ticking loud and clear. Since I was the last kid in my family, I had never really spent time around babies. I had never done any babysitting. Instead, I had worked at jobs like making twirly cones at the Whippi Dip.
“Yeah, I really want a couple of kids,” Aidan said.
Montana looked at me pointedly. “Well then, honey, you’d better hurry.” Bitch, I thought. Like I needed any reminders of my age.
“I’m trying to have a baby,” Montana announced. I snapped to, fast. Whom, exactly, was she trying to have a baby with? Which is what Veronica asked her. “I don’t really care. I just tell my latest and greatest that I’m on birth control. Men are so stupid; they really are such trusting creatures.”
“What happens when the lucky man learns that you’re pregnant?” I asked as politely as I could.
“I’ll tell him the birth control failed. Then we’ll discuss child support and that will be that.” Was it my imagination, or was she staring straight at Aidan?
“You would do that to some poor guy?” My brain knew that I should let the subject go, but my mouth couldn’t.
“Yeah. I’m raising it so what’s the big deal?” Montana recrossed her long legs.
“I could never do that,” Veronica said softly. “I couldn’t imagine having a baby without the right person.” She stood up and shook hands with Aidan. “I have to get going. But I look forward to working with you.” She smiled at me and barely nodded her head at Montana. Aidan walked her to the door. Montana left soon after, kissing Aidan on the cheek, while barely acknowledging me. Clearly, she was pissed off that I had challenged her, particularly in front of Veronica. Aidan and I cleared away the dirty glasses.
“Congratulations on landing the one and only Veronica Robison,” I said and kissed him as I passed by with my hands full.
Aidan yawned and stretched. “She really likes this script, so it looks like it will go into production soon. Probably shooting in Australia, but Montana is going to do the day-to-day production duties there. I’ll handle things here in Los Angeles. But after tonight, I hope she can work with Veronica. I’m not sure the two of them will get along.”
“Aidan?”
“Yeah?”
“Has Montana, you know . . .” I looked down in embarrassment. “Well, with all of this talk about wanting a baby, has she come on to you lately?” When Aidan didn’t respond right away, I looked up. “Well, has she?”
“Sweetie, you know I love you.”
“That’s not an answer,” I said.
He hugged me tightly. “I love you, I’m not in love with Montana, and that’s that.” I hugged him back, but I was thinking it still wasn’t an answer. Aidan as usual fell asleep the moment the lights went out. Despite three Tylenol pms my head spun its constant chant: Lucy arrived in two days. What if Aidan found out Lucy was in town? Did my good blue blouse come back from the dry cleaner’s? Why was Rachael throwing me under the bus at work? I needed to call Sammie and apologize for our big fight. Not to mention Elizabeth. My car had needed an oil change for seven months. When was I going to do that? Why was Katsu trying to get me fired? Was he trying to get me fired?
I turned over to look at the clock every twenty minutes until finally, just past 3 a.m., my eyes closed for good.
The next morning Aidan packed his single carry-on bag with military efficiency. With a kiss good-bye we parted ways. He was off to Vancouver for production meetings and to check locations on yet another film. Even though it was Saturday I headed for the office. Lucy was coming the next day, and if I got enough done today I could take some time off on Monday to be with her. She had said her depositions didn’t start until the afternoon.
At the office I plowed through emails that had piled up from the week. Anything that wasn’t urgent I saved for the weekends or late at night. One had come in from Rachael late yesterday. It asked when the final poster for TechnoCat would be ready to go up in theaters. Shit, I had forgotten to let our print production people know that the poster could go to print. The poster was late and we had all been on pins and needles trying to get the talent approval, which I had gotten days ago. I had simply forgotten about it. What was happening to me? It was like my brain was liquefying.
I went to the office kitchen to make microwave popcorn and try and calm down. Of course, the communal microwave was filthy. Why did people nuke spaghetti and then not clean up the red spatter? I spent fifteen minutes cleaning it out and then I scrubbed the countertop for good measure.
Returning to my office, I decided to not bring attention to my mistake. I replied to Rachael that it could be up in Los Angeles and New York in two days and the rest of the country within three.
Then I sent an urgent email to the ad agency and our print production people. All talent had approved, I typed, the poster numbered 43B Revised. Please push the final artwork and printing of this poster through at all speed.
After another couple of hours, I shut off the lights and headed to my house. First, I stopped by Gelson’s to pick up groceries. Lucy would starve with what I kept in my house. After putting everything away in the fridge and cupboards I tackled the guest room. It was already immaculate, but I washed and dried all the sheets and pillowcases anyway. Then I put some yellow daffodils I had bought into a vase and placed it on the guest room nightstand.
Later, curled up with a book in my living room, I idly stared at a framed family photo circa 1982 that sat on the side table. I had really missed Lucy and realized I couldn’t wait to see her. Of course, Lucy would want to see Elizabeth and Sammie while she was here, too. I hadn’t quite figured out how to deal with that one. Obviously Lucy knew that my other two sisters were angry with me. Our whole family knows every detail of every argument within hours of its occurrence. My mom had been fielding phone calls about my behavior from both Elizabeth and Sammie for weeks now. I knew that because Evan told me. When I tried to tell him my side of the story, Evan had simply said to leave him out of it and let him know when it had blown over. Typical Evan. My dad hadn’t said one word about it and probably wouldn’t. He had learned a long time ago to stay out of the frothing waters of family drama.
I looked again at the photo of our seven smiling faces and really hoped Lucy’s visit didn’t turn into a disaster.
Chapter Twenty-three
July 1986
Mom and Lucy returned from the counselor a few hours after Grandma’s naked adventure. I didn’t have the heart to tell Mom right away that Grandma and I would probably be on the front page of The Muskegon Chronicle in the morning. Both she and Lucy looked worn out. They went into the family room and flopped down on the couch.
“So?” I asked.
“I’m five weeks gone.” Lucy was holding a couch pillow to her chest.
I sat in Dad’s red chair. “What are you going to do?”
Lucy dug her chin into the pillow. “Dunno.”
“Does Chuck know?”
“Yeah.” Lucy sighed. “He says it’s my decision.”
That was a pretty scaredy-cat attitude, I thought. I knew Mom was torn. She was pro-choice but often said that I, her fifth child, was her best argument against abortion. In her heart, she knew that Lucy and Chuck weren’t a great match. Lucy was young and didn’t have a lot of job prospects. Neither did Chuck. But Mom and Dad had been young with their first kid. I could practically see all this going round and round in her head. Finally, she said, “I’m going to get dinner started,” and left for the kitchen.
It seemed like as good a time as any to tell her about my day. I followed her inside. “Mom”—I figured I’d start out slowly—“Tom picked up his check and your tax info today.”
“Good,” she said, clearly distracted.
“Grandma told Tom that Dad had been fired.”
Mom looked up from the onion she was chopping. “She what? I don’t know how she gets these things in her head. I’ll have to talk to your father about what to do.” She pulled out a pan and threw the onions into it.
“I think she doesn’t really know what’s going on most of the time.” Then I told her the rest. “I think we owe the Wilson sisters for their lemonade stand,” I finished. Mom didn’t seem particularly surprised. But she was chopping tomatoes with a bit more force than necessary.
“Poor thing. She just gets so mixed up,” Mom murmured. “Where is she now?”
“In bed. She was really tired,” I said.
“I should think so.” Mom stirred the tomatoes into the onions. She opened the pantry and took out some of her homemade tomato sauce. I cringed. It qualified as the worst on earth. “That’s the last jar up here,” Mom said. “I’ll have to bring up more from the basement tomorrow.” Rats. I thought that was the last jar, period. Every year, I had to ladle the damn stuff into the waiting Mason jars and make sure the rubber ring sealed tightly. Mom would go around behind me checking to make sure none of the lids had popped up, which would mean the jar had air in it and the sauce could go bad. She was always astounded at how bad I was at getting a tight seal. Little did she know I was doing it on purpose, in self-defense.
“Are you talking about me?” Grandma wobbled in the doorway.
“Pearl! How did you get down the stairs?” Mom ran over to her and helped her to a chair.
“I’m not a complete invalid, you know.” Grandma deliberately turned her face away from Mom. “These legs have a few more years in them.”
“Mom, there’s one more thing,” I said.
“Lord, Jeannie! What else could possibly have happened today?”
“Elizabeth’s pregnant.” At Mom’s open mouth, I quickly shot, “And she’s moving home.” No one had to respond, because Lucy tore through the kitchen right then on her way to the toilet. Her retching was the perfect punctuation to a perfect day.
The next day, Walker called at the crack of dawn. Not even Dad was up yet, and he wasn’t happy about being woken up to get the phone. After yelling down the hall to tell me to pick it up, Dad went back to bed.
“Could you please wait to call until normal people are awake?” I groused. “You just got home from fishing, but the rest of us don’t live on your schedule.”
“Better check out this morning’s Chronicle,” he said. “Front page. Call me back after you read it.” He hung up.
The paper was wedged between the screen door and the regular door. I was expecting a photo of my grandmother, but instead I saw an enormous headline that read, HAROLD THOMPSON OUT OF COUNTY JOB AFTER 18 YEARS? The article said that rumors were flying that Harold Thompson had either lost his job or was in imminent danger of losing it. Various county commissioners were quoted as saying that since everyone was talking about it, there must be a grain of truth. Nobody defended Dad. Small-town politics are like big-town politics. If someone senses you’re down, they’re not going to give you a hand up; they’re going to kick you. Tom Turner was quoted as saying that he heard Dad had lost his job “from a very reliable source.” At the bottom of the news piece it read, “See related article, page 2.”
I flipped the page. Topping a separate article was a photo of my grandmother and me. It was taken just after I had wrapped her in the tablecloth. We were standing in the middle of the marching band. The headline read HAROLD THOMPSON’S MOTHER RUNS NAKED AT PARADE.
I let Dad sleep. When I called Walker back, he launched into a tirade about how the Thompsons were all embarrassing him and what if this news got back to his professors at Princeton? He’d never get a recommendation for a good job, he said. After I told him that I sincerely doubted his professors were reading The Muskegon Chronicle, he curtly told me that he had to go break the news to his parents and hung up. When the phone started ringing off the hook at about 7 a.m., I finally went to give Dad the paper.
Anna’s was the eighth call. She sounded like she had just inhaled helium. “I cannot even go to work without being confronted with some Thompson folly. Everyone here wants to know what your father did wrong to get the boot. Every time I think it’s calming down something else blows up! I can’t wait to move to Florida!” She slammed the phone down hard in my ear.
Dad was shaken, but he soldiered on and went to work to put out all of the fires. After the third day, rumors were still flying and he looked tired. Mom rubbed his head every night and told him to keep his chin up.
Lucy stayed another two days. Evan, just back from captaining a boat down from the Upper Peninsula, drove her to the airport. She was taking a commercial flight to Monterey. There was no way Mom and Dad were going to let her catch military planes for her return trip. The night before she left, she came into her room to talk to me. “Should I have this baby?” she whispered in the darkness. I patted the side of the bed and she sat down. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t know either, Lucy.”
“I don’t want a baby. I’m not sure if I’ll ever want a baby. This family might be enough for one lifetime.” I patted her hand; there was absolutely nothing I could say that would help her with this decision.
When I got up in the morning, Lucy was already packed and I only had time to give her a quick hug before she and Evan headed out the door.
“I’ll be back in September,” she reminded me. “Then we’ll be together at Michigan State. I’ve already got married housing lined up for me and Chuck.”
After they left, Mom and I sat outside in the backyard. “Did she tell you what she’s going to do?” I asked.
Mom’s cigarette smoke circled her head in the still air. “No. I got her the names of some good doctors in her area. They can help her either way.” We rocked on the glider and watched Bear Lake. Some Canadian geese glided in and splashed down. “Are they here already?” Mom asked. “Looks like it’s going to be an early winter.”
“Nah,” I said. “The squirrels aren’t gathering acorns yet.”
“I have to figure out what to do with Elizabeth,” Mom said, more to herself than to me.
Mom had spoken to Elizabeth, who had just gotten a big job producing a commercial and now wasn’t planning to come home until later that summer. “She says that she wants to be near me for advice while she’s pregnant.” I could tell Mom didn’t buy that. I could also tell that she didn’t know yet about Elizabeth’s money problems, and I didn’t enlighten her. “Why are neither of those girls happy about being pregnant?” Mom mused. “I
loved being pregnant.” We watched the geese wander up to the Longs’ lawn and make themselves at home.
I was due at the BLT soon, so Mom drove me down and told me Evan would be by to pick me up at closing time. As I was shutting the car door, I paused. “Hang in there, Mom.”
She looked up and smiled. “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”
Chapter Twenty-four
August 1986
Evan was flipping pizza dough in the air. He wasn’t particularly good at it and the wad fell on the floor. He just picked it up and laughed. “Five-second rule!” he said. “Hey, Joe?” he called to the cameraman. “Anybody clean this floor recently?”
The cameraman mumbled something from off-screen and Evan responded cheerfully, “Good enough for me. People shouldn’t get all hung up on minor things like that. Builds the immune system. I think that’s why kids eat dirt.”
“Are you feeding your kids dirt now?” Grandma asked Dad. “Things have sunk pretty low, huh, son?”
She was right about one thing: that summer had basically sucked. Since the newspaper incident almost three weeks before, Walker had refused to come over. “You guys are like a lightning rod in a storm,” he had said, “or a trailer park during a tornado. Something is bound to happen.”
Even I couldn’t argue that he wasn’t right. That summer might have been somewhat exceptional in terms of events, but it wasn’t all that exceptional. I couldn’t even go see Walker because I was either working or watching Grandma. I stuffed a piece of Sara Lee coffee cake in my mouth and watched Evan checking the coals on the grill.
“I encourage you to start looking at things in a different way.” He brushed some olive oil onto the pizza dough and then more on the grill. “For instance, today I’m making pizza on the grill. I bet you never even thought about doing that. Sometimes the obvious is hidden because you are so used to looking at things in just one way.” He flipped the dough onto the grill and ladled tomato sauce on top. Then he got a pot from the stove and brought it out to the smoker attached to the grill. He threw in the soaked wood chips from the pot. “The smoke will give the pizza an unusual flavor too. So there it is, a new way to look at things.”
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