The Paradise Box Set

by Leslie Pike

  I’ve got to be careful not to follow in her footsteps. Not that I can compare Paul to my father. Paul’s a better man in every way. And I’m certain he has no intention of controlling me. But intention isn’t the only way a person becomes one way or the other. I think habit has a lot to do with how we turn out. Step by step, one little line crossed and then another, and pretty soon you’re changed. And I don’t want to be changed. I like me the way I am.

  There’s the turn off. Thank God I can get lost in my work today. It’s a good thing Paul’s not going to be here because I’ve got three scenes with Darius. Not that they’re romantic ones. After all, I’m supposed to be the lad’s aunt. But they are soaking tub shots, and I’ll be in a bikini. Three other characters are in the first scene, teenage Finn, Carl and Mary. Should be interesting. I like the kid and don’t want to have to pull my reins when I’m around him. There’s some sadness in him I think. I don’t know what it is yet, but I think I can make him laugh and relax a bit.

  “Hi, BB.” The guard sticks a permit on my windshield then waves me through to the parking lot. It’s fucking hot today. Everyone’s in shorts and summer wear. Why the hell did I wear this long-sleeved top? I’ll just get into wardrobe right away. Aunt Amelia was naked half the time in the sixties, but the scenes we’re filming today happened much later. I park my car and make my way across the lot. The A.D. spots me right away and meets me at the trailer.

  “Morning, BB. Your pages are inside and you’ve got about an hour till the first shot.”

  “The tub?”

  “Yeah. Wardrobes hanging on the door. Makeup and hair in ten.” She gives me a pointed look.

  “Okay, Gina. Thanks.”

  Inside I grab the neon stripped bikini that’s perfect for the nineteen eighties it’s supposed to represent. We’re shooting out of sequence, and this scene takes place after the family returns from Ireland. Finn’s sixteen and I’m in my thirties, which works out nicely. I strip out of my hot clothes and put the bikini on. The mirror helps me make the few adjustments needed, and I’m done. Taking the robe from the closet I wrap it around me. Even I’m not crazy enough to walk across a set in a bikini, although some people would be surprised to hear it. Picking up an apple and my pages I head for makeup and hair.

  The sound of my cell stops me before I get to the door. It’s Paul.

  “Hi, honey,” I say.

  “Hi you. Just wanted to tell you I miss you already, and I haven’t left the terminal yet.”

  “Good. That’s how I like you. Wanting me.”

  “You never have to doubt that, BB.”

  I hear the announcement in the background.

  “Okay, they’re calling my flight. Be good and have fun.”

  “Safe travels. I’ll say a prayer. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  We disconnect. But I didn’t miss his real message to me. Be good.

  Once on the set, I climb into the soaking tub and join Darius. The other two actors are talking with the director off to the side. I notice the kid look away, purposely avoiding watching me.

  “Hi, Darius. Shit this is cold! What the hell? My nipples are going to be frozen solid.”

  He just gives a little embarrassed laugh. At least he’s making eye contact now.

  “And worse than that, your willy’s going to look like a shriveled pickle.” I smile.

  “Probably,” he says, lowering his eyes.

  “You’re turning red again.”

  “I can’t help it. It happens whenever I’m…”

  “What? Frightened? Embarrassed? What?

  “All of the above.” He grins.

  I like this kid. He’s genuine and not afraid to tell the truth, even when it reveals his vulnerabilities.

  “That’s okay. I was just yanking your chain. Don’t worry, I’ll go easier on you from now on.”

  “Don’t do that. I kind of like it,” he says under his breath.

  I’ve got to admit it’s pretty fucking appealing. Some young girl will hit the jackpot with this guy.

  “Hey, you know what? Let’s mess with your father! Tell me something he hates for people to say or do and I’ll start doing it. It’ll be a blast.”

  He looks horrified.

  “No! That would not be a good idea. Believe me.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t he have a sense of humor?”

  “No he doesn’t. He’s got a pretty narrow sense of what he finds funny. I can tell you something he likes though. In fact he loves it. You can score points with that.”

  “Okay, tell me.”

  “He loves anything to do with Shakespeare. I don’t know how much you’ve talked to him, but he likes to quote him all the time.”

  I see the slight boredom on his face and hear it in his tone. It’s obvious he finds his father’s habit tedious.

  “Okay. Shakespeare, huh? I can use that,” I say lifting an eyebrow,

  Darius looks at me as if he’s aware he’s just mistakenly opened Pandora’s Box. And well, he has.

  “Here he comes,” he says, watching Alec and Karen approach.

  They climb in the tub and have the same reaction to the temperature I did.

  “My God this is freezing!” says Karen.

  Alec tries to mask his reaction and take it like a man. But I’m watching him, and I’m ready to pounce at the perfect moment. I stand and adjust my bikini top, certain his eyes are watching. He lifts his voice to the heavens.

  “Tempt not a desperate man!” he cries, using all of his booming voice.

  Jackpot.

  “Um, I think you’re misquoting Hamlet.”

  Now I know full well that not only is his quote correct, but it’s not from Hamlet. That should make him itch.

  “Dear girl, it’s verbatim and most assuredly NOT from Hamlet. Surprisingly, you are at least correct in that it’s a Shakespearian line. But it’s taken from Romeo and Juliet.”

  What a dick. I could burst out laughing right now, but I hold steady. Meanwhile, Darius’ face is frozen in dread.

  “No, no. I believe I’m right. I took a class in high school. We studied all his plays and movies,” I say with a self-satisfied smirk.

  I think he’s going to have a heart attack. His face is flushed but not in embarrassment. It’s buried frustration.

  “Well, I on the other hand, was in a production of Romeo and Juliet on Broadway. And I’m pretty certain the bard never made any films, my dear. Maybe because he died in 1616. I’m not sure the cinema was around then.” He huffs his disdain.

  “All right, quiet people!” Albie’s order stops our conversation.

  I quickly morph into Aunt Amelia, but not before I notice the other people in the tub are having a harder time leaving Shakespeare behind.

  We had to do four takes of that one scene, all because Alec kept messing up his dialogue. I was going to admit my part in his flustered fuckup, but I’m rethinking that confession. He’s kind of a dick to the kid. He shot Darius a look after one of the retakes as if it was he who garbled the dialogue. And the kid just took it silently. So I’ve made up my mind. It’s for certain I’ll be his champion. I picture myself in a shiny suit of armor like the blonde female knight in Game of Thrones. I’m Darius’ Brienne of Tarth, and he’s just become my charge.

  Alec and Karen climb out of the tub first. He walks off toward his trailer without a word. Hee hee.

  “Come on, kid. Let’s go get changed and I’ll teach you how to play poker. Have you played?”

  “No.”

  But I find it encouraging that he didn’t fight the idea.

  “Meet me in my trailer in half an hour. And bring money,” I say as I walk off.

  Of course the kid is at my door ten minutes early. He knocks and when I holler for him to enter he does hesitatingly. He’s not sure about what I’m up to.

  “Last time I played this it was a different version. It was strip poker. That’s how I met Paul.”

  I watch his face, waiting for me to crack
up or tell him I’m fucking with him. When I keep my steady expression, he realizes I’m not kidding.

  “Really? Awesome.” He gives a little snort of approval.

  I start the deal. “It was. But we’re not doing that today. I’m a one-man woman these days, so strip poker is off the table.”

  “Too bad,” he says quietly.

  Uh oh.

  “Listen kid, I’m a little wild, and I know men like that about me. But let’s get something straight right now. I’m with the man I want. I’m not interested in playing around, no matter how many signals you may think you’re seeing. But I like you, so let’s be friends. I think I could be good for you.”

  He scrutinizes me and smiles. “Okay, I’m good with that. But you can’t fault a guy for hoping?”

  “No, you can’t. Let’s play poker.”

  So I line out the rules and make a list of winning hands. Darius picks up the game quickly and before too long he’s winning most of the hands.

  “What the hell? Again?” I say as he shows me his small straight.

  He finds the game fun, and the winning even better.

  “You’ve stolen most of my money, you little shit.” I pout.

  He gathers his pot. “That’s too bad. You shouldn’t have been such a good teacher.”

  There’s a knock on the door and Alec’s voice. “BB darling, are you dressed?”

  Darius looks as if the principal just caught us smoking weed behind the gym. He shakes his head and puts his finger to his lips to silence me. I reject his request with a shake of my head.

  “Come in, Alec, join us.”

  Darius’ shoulders sag in defeat. The door opens and Alec enters. The shock on his face when he sees his son is surprising and too strong a reaction to what’s happening here.

  “What’s this?” he asks.

  “We’re just playing cards. BB’s teaching me poker.”

  Alec gives his son a withering glance then turns to me.

  “Is he any good?”

  I gesture to the paltry pile of money in front of me compared to his son’s bounty. “Look for yourself! He’s wiping me out.”

  “Well, that’s a young boy’s mistake. He’s not used to being with a woman. And especially not one like yourself. If he were, he’d have figured out a gentleman never takes a woman’s money.”

  Poor Darius looks defeated and embarrassed. I feel the weight of my armor when I answer.

  “Actually Alec, he was smart enough to know a real man knows the difference between life and a game. I would never had played with him again if he let me win because I’m a woman.”

  I don’t break eye contact with Alec, but I sense Darius just sat up straighter.

  Chapter Ten

  NICKI

  They say November is the cruelest month, but you can’t prove it by me. What a difference a few months made. My second trimester has started much better than the first, and what I earnestly prayed for has come to pass. The day we got back from San Francisco eight weeks ago, Jack started to warm to the fact we’re having a baby. At first I thought a sarcastic how nice of him, but I came to realize his panic had nothing to do with selfishness and everything to do with real fear.

  Bliss was right. I found the piece of the puzzle I was missing. It showed up at my OBGYN’s office when Jack got emotional. We were in Doctor Nakamura’s office getting the results of the first chromosome tests. When she said everything looked good and the baby was developing at a normal rate, Jack couldn’t hold back. He wasn’t even embarrassed that the doctor saw the tears shimmering in his eyes. That convinced me of his sincerity more than anything else could. I was relieved too. Not because I had doubted baby’s health, but more because I finally understood what had been going on in his head. The doctor made an excuse to leave us alone for a few minutes. We held each other close and didn’t fight the comfort it brought.

  Because of his lifelong relationship with his friend John, Jack had panicked. He’s seen what kind of challenges a person with a serious disability faces, and it’s scared him that our child could suffer a similar fate. Besides that, he’s watched Carol and what it’s meant in her life to care for someone every day. The fact that our ages play a role didn’t help his anxieties either. But as we go to our appointments and have all the tests required, he’s started to look forward with more of a sense of calmness.

  He’s apologized to me. One sincere act of contrition for all he put me through those first weeks. That’s all I needed. Of course I forgave him his fears. I forgive what I understand.

  It’s a California November day, which means the fact that it’s eighty-five degrees is perfectly normal. I’m glad to wear something sleeveless and a little loose. Not that I need the extra room. At four and a half months I’ve yet to grow much. But I’m anxious to show the world, so I’ve bought things that highlight my condition. I don’t try to hide anything. It’s beautiful in my eyes, and happily Jack feels the same way. He’s always touching my bump now, or kissing my belly or asking me to take another photograph for his album. I’m happy to oblige him his requests. Because even though things have changed and he’s showing his enthusiasm, I still think he has a fearful expectation there, hidden deep within. I guess it won’t completely go away till he’s holding our child.

  The days are full now with baby preparations and doctor’s appointments. It feels like there’s so much joy surrounding us. We’re getting a kick out of our families. They’re over the moon about the coming attraction. My eighty-three-year-old Portuguese grandmother is crocheting and tatting and making gorgeous needlework pieces of art. There’s a blanket and booties, caps and soft towels. Good thing baby has a big enough room for all that’s offered with love. Jack’s sister is baking and bringing weekly treats of delicious breads and desserts. I think my husband’s getting a bigger belly than I am. He likes to stick it out and compare it to mine. Then we crack up and he agrees to be better at pushing himself away from the table. And that’s not even taking into account the Japanese delicacies my mother’s side of the family brings over. It’s Jack’s favorite food, and they’re making sure he tries it all. He likes to tell my mother it’s his reward for getting me pregnant with her first grandchild. It makes her laugh every time. I’d bet that’s where he is right now, sampling the dumplings delivered this morning.

  “Are you almost ready?” Jack calls from the French Doors that lead out back.

  I’m picking lemons from the potted trees that border the walkway. “We’ve got plenty of time. My appointment isn’t till 4:30. We’ve got an hour.”

  “We don’t want to be late. And Newport traffic is bad this time of day. Come on, chop chop.”

  I lift my pruning shears and tell him what I think. “I’ll chop chop you. Then I’ll use your balls for dangling earrings.”

  I hear him laugh. He holds up his hands in surrender.

  Doctor Nakamura’s office waiting room looks like a small scale five-star hotel lobby. I left my favorite gynecologist back in San Francisco, so when we were looking for an OBGYN, I considered the references of some of Jack’s famous friends. I couldn’t deny money buys the best of things and sometimes that includes doctors. We kept hearing this same name over and over. Doctor Nakamura has attended to some of the most famous vaginas in Hollywood. And she’s delivered many of the precious heirs to the arms of the most illustrious names in show business.

  She’s smart and personable, and I liked her right off. She put both of us first-timers at ease. But what sealed the deal was the fact that we share the same Japanese zodiac animal. We were born in the same year of the Dragon. Dragons are favored with good fortune and that’s a great thing to have in an OBGYN.

  There’s even a separate entry to her offices for celebrities and individuals whose presence would cause a riot or compromise their privacy. Jack’s definitely one of them. So we take the elevator directly to the fourth floor. It opens onto a hallway with access to four separate waiting rooms, each with a flat screen, a Keurig coffee maker, comfor
table leather recliners and a wide cushy couch big enough for an expectant mother and her mate. One of the doctor’s assistants always makes sure we have plenty of Evian and a tray of fruit offerings.

  “Nicki, the doctor will see you now. Would you like Mr. Alden to join you as usual?”

  I like the way she phrases that request. It’s my choice, not Jack’s, whether or not he joins me in my gynecological appointment. I mostly do it because I think it soothes him, and the one time I excluded him he asked me so many questions my head was about to blow off. It’s just easier this way.

  We walk into her office and find her sitting at her desk.

  “Hello you two,” she says as she gets up to greet us. She’s still wearing her reading glasses.

  “Hello, doctor,” I answer.

  “Doctor Nakamura, you’re looking especially scholarly today,” Jack says.

  She realizes her mistake and takes her glasses off. “Oh! Well thank you, Jack. I was just going over Nicki’s labs. Take a seat please.”

  “Everything all right?” he says hesitatingly.

  I can see the fear on his face.

  “She’ll tell us honey. Give her a chance.”

  The doctor smiles at the new papa panic that she’s accustomed to dealing with.

  “Everything looks good. Your labs are all on target. Let me go over a few things with you.”

  We take our seats.

  “How have you been feeling?”

  “Good. I have a little heartburn. That’s new.”

  “That’s normal. You may be experiencing that from now on. How about your diet? Did you look over the booklet I gave you?”

  “Yes. I’ve always been good with my choices, and with this one I don’t have a choice anymore,” I say motioning to Jack.

  “What do you mean? I’ve just made a few suggestions.”

  “Doctor, this man is insane. He’s read every book there is about having a baby. He googles things on a daily basis, about what to eat, what cosmetics to avoid, he looks at charts that show exactly how the baby’s developing. He’s driving me crazy.”