Secrets of My Hollywood Life: There’s No Place Like Home

by Jen Calonita

  “Now that’s a Christmas present I never thought I’d get,” Dad jokes, and I giggle.

  “Enough chatting,” Matty says sternly and winks at me. “If you don’t behave, then you don’t get your present. Well, Dad doesn’t. This is really for him, Mom. That’s why we said you didn’t have to come.”

  “I wanted to be supportive.” Mom blows on her hands.

  “You’re getting one of your presents from me later on, Mom,” I remind her. “Well, two presents.”

  “Well, where are we now, then?” she complains. “I feel like we’re on a highway, it’s so loud. I don’t like the idea of you driving us someplace without telling us.”

  “Rodney drove,” Matty says. “And besides, that’s why it’s called a surprise.”

  Matty looks at me nervously. It took a lot of convincing for Matty to sign on to this present—I paid for most of it, but Matty chipped in too—but I think after I explained things in detail, he agreed with me. This present is going to make Dad happier than he’s been in a long time. Matty’s not sure Mom is going to like my gift to her so much, but he promised to support me. I told him I have a lot more experience in the Mom area since I’ve been doing this longer. “Which means she can be more mad at you too,” Matty reminded me. That’s what I’m afraid of.

  “Are you ready, Kates?” Matty asks. “You should do the honors.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask my brother. He looks so grown-up in that black Kenneth Cole peacoat and jeans. I hobble over to him on my crutches. I can’t wait till these things are gone for real. At least they’re a good reminder of what I’ve learned. It’s hard to maneuver when you’re wearing a heavy green Gap wool coat, but Mom is right, it’s chilly. That’s why I’m also wearing a black-and-white-striped cashmere sweater underneath with skinny jeans and those much-talked-about Marc Jacobs boots. (I really do own a pair!)

  “It was your idea.” Matty smiles at me, revealing his perfect teeth. “Which means you get the first round of interrogations too.”

  “Why would there be yelling?” Mom questions, turning blindly toward our voices. “Kaitlin? Matthew?”

  I untie Dad’s blindfold first, and then Mom’s. “Merry Christmas!” I yell. Matty hollers and I clap, but Mom and Dad stand there dumbfounded.

  They’re staring at huge glass windows where gleaming cars and SUVS are parked inside the store. We’ve taken them to Dad’s old car dealership; the one he worked at years ago before he joined the Hollywood food chain. The place isn’t open at nine AM on a Sunday morning, but that’s okay, the staff is here to welcome us. I asked them to come in early to meet their new boss.

  “But I… don’t understand,” Dad says, looking from Matty to me in confusion. “Why are we in front of my old dealership? I don’t need a new car. My Maserati is only a year old.”

  “True,” Matty says. “Why else would we be here, then?”

  Mom sighs. “You two are not getting cars before you get your licenses!”

  “We’re not getting cars now, but when we do need wheels, we’re coming here.” I side-eye Matt. “We have an in with the owner.”

  “Eric Peterman?” Dad asks.

  “No, you,” Matt says. “You’re the new owner, Dad. Merry Christmas!”

  “What?” Dad’s jaw almost hits the sidewalk and lands on a piece of gum.

  “We bought it for you, Dad,” I say, as Mom yells, “WHAT?” I hug him, holding my crutches away from my body. “You’ve never been as happy as you were working with cars. Everyone should love what they do.”

  “But my production deals,” Dad stammers.

  “Dad, let’s face it,” Matty says without a hint of irony. “You’re never going to be a real producer. You’ve gotten some gigs from us, or more like Kates, but you’re not going to make it out there.”

  “But that’s okay, Dad, because you are a rock star when it comes to selling cars, and we know you’ve always wanted to own a dealership,” I add quickly, since Matty is right but also being kind of harsh. “Now you do.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Dad looks misty as he stares at the dealership. “How’d you know I missed this place?”

  I grin. “Someone told me. Congrats, Dad! We hope this makes you as happy as you make us.”

  Dad bear hugs me and Matty, hitting Matty in the face with one of my crutches. “Are you sure? Really sure? I don’t know what to say!”

  “Ask how they got access to the money to buy this,” Mom gripes, typing furiously on her BlackBerry with her short, pink nails, despite her aversion to chapped skin.

  “Our financial planner said having Dad own a dealership was more cost-effective than having his producing credit worked into all our future deals,” Matty explains. “He signed off on this. He said he’d show you the numbers to prove it.”

  “Kids, I don’t know what to say.” Dad chokes up. “I have always wanted to own this dealership. I’ve missed being here. I’m terrible at movies.”

  “Don’t say that.” Mom pulls the sleeve of his Ralph Lauren trench coat. “You’re brilliant!”

  “Meg, I’m not, and I’m not happy doing it either.” Dad looks serious, not sad. “Hollywood is not for me. All I want is to watch my kids do well and to enjoy their careers. I’m happy to take a backseat and sell some great cars.”

  “But, but…” Mom is speechless.

  If this has her, wait till she sees what’s next.

  “Mom, you look like you could use a drink,” says Matty, leading her to the front door. “The staff has bagels and mimosas and coffee inside to celebrate.”

  “Afterward, Mom, I’m taking you for a massage.” I click clack with my crutches behind her. “I made appointments for us at the Four Seasons Hotel spa, and afterward we’re going to have lunch at the Gardens.”

  “That sounds superb, sweetie,” Mom gushes. “How thoughtful. You must really be enjoying your time off. ”

  “Yes, it’s been great getting stuff done,” I say truthfully and wink at Rodney, who is carrying my new bag—it’s a sparkly red Chloé bag that looks surprisingly similar to the no-name one in my dream. One of my errands this week was to find my dream bag and buy it. It’s a great reminder of what I nearly lost and what I need to focus on now—getting my life in tip-top shape. “I have my Christmas shopping done, and I have a lot of assistant interviews scheduled.”

  “You’re going to find someone ten times better than Nadine,” Mom says. “It was time for you to make a change anyway.”

  “Change is a good thing,” I agree, and try not to smirk. That would be mean. “It’s good to have a fresh start, even if it’s painful sometimes.”

  “Absolutely.” I’m not sure Mom heard me because she’s applying a deep red gloss on her lips and looking in a tiny mirror.

  I am making headway on the assistant front, not that it’s been fun. Nadine has been secretly interviewing assistants for me while she sets up her shingle as a manager. I don’t know how she does it all, but she said she wouldn’t feel good about leaving me in the lurch during the holidays. I told her it’s quiet this time of year anyway, and it turned out the two weeks I have off to recuperate is actually almost four weeks with Christmas and New Year’s thrown in the mix. I have plenty of time to find someone new to help me run my life. I guess. I’ll still miss Nadine.

  Which is why I’m not letting her go.

  * * *

  LIZ’S CELL: Tick tock. Tick tock. Time’s up, Kates! Focus, focus, focus! It’s now or never and I have faith U can do this!! LUV U!

  AUSTIN’S CELL: UVE waited 4EVR 2 do this. Rock it, Burke! UVE practiced & R ready 2 face the fire. I’m thinking of U.

  SKY’S CELL: K? Where R U? Did U do it yet? Don’t chicken out! I need Nadine focused, not whining about U. Get going already!

  “Katie-kins, that Swe-Thai massage was excellent!” Mom coos. We’re being seated at a table at the Gardens restaurant in the Four Seasons for lunch. The restaurant is supposed to be casual, but I still think it’s elegant. They have ind
oor and outdoor seating (it’s too cold for that today), butter-colored walls, heavy drapes, big armchairs, and a nice, easy, California chic menu. Mom’s face is glowing. “That was ninety minutes of pure heaven. How was yours?”

  “The stone therapy was awesome,” I tell Mom as we settle in to the corner table tucked into the back of the restaurant (my request). I’m hoping Mom doesn’t question why we’re not sitting at a two-seater instead of this six-chair round table. I pull my honey blond hair back in a low ponytail. I’m wearing what I had on this morning—my sweater, skinny jeans, and boots. The outfit is comfortable. And between the massage, the pep talks I’ve been giving myself, and the texts from my friends and Austin, I also feel confident.

  “You were careful with your ankle during the treatment, right?” Mom asks worriedly, checking to make sure she buttoned all the buttons on her baby blue Aryn K silk blouse that has silk flowers for a collar. Mom’s paired the beautiful top with wide-leg white trousers and white boots. “We can’t risk you being off your feet any longer than you already are. The show gave you a very nice break as it is.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “I’ve given you a nice break too, you know,” Mom says lightly, rapping her fingers on the table. “I’ve listened to you and your father and given you time to grieve Nadine’s departure and to come to terms with your hectic spring.” She pauses and looks into my eyes. “I only want to do what’s best for you, Kaitlin. I know I push you hard sometimes, but it’s only because I love you and want to see you succeed.”

  Here we go…

  “I wanted to talk to you about that, Mom.” I take a sip of ice water. “I know you have my best interests at heart, but I still think juggling Matty and my careers is taking its toll on you. You can’t do it all,” I tell her kindly.

  “Of course I can,” Mom says hastily and almost drops the spoon about to go into her iced tea to stir her raw sugar. “I’m not slacking.”

  “I didn’t say you were slacking,” I say hastily and place a napkin on my lap. “I said you have too much on your plate. You…” I hesitate. “You don’t seem happy, and you look tired.”

  “I’m not tired,” Mom insists and instinctively touches her eyes, which are wrinkle-free thanks to her Botox treatments. But she looks uncomfortable with the subject matter, and she immediately changes the conversation to prove her point. “I’m fine. Now about those contracts, Kaitlin. You have to sign them today. We need to go to Seth’s right from here. You can’t risk losing one of these movies!” Mom’s green eyes look wild, like a tiger’s, but they look desperate too. She doesn’t like anyone giving her feedback on her job, and she really wants me to follow her guidance. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’ve already made my decision. I actually signed a contract to do the James Cameron film. I called Mr. Eastwood personally to tell him I was turning the role down, and he was disappointed, but he applauded my work ethic and said he understood me not wanting to overextend myself. He said they may not shoot till late fall now, so if that happens, he’ll definitely give me a call.

  I take a deep breath before I answer Mom. “I’m not going there today. I have an appointment tomorrow.”

  Mom grabs her BlackBerry. “I don’t see any appointment for tomorrow. Tomorrow is Matty’s Teen Vogue shoot, and I’m going to be there all day. I guess I could dash out around eleven for half an hour. No, no, I’m wrong. I have a conference call with the Scooby folks then. Um…”

  “It’s okay, Mom, you don’t have to be there.” I take a roll from the bread basket they’ve just brought. Mom raises her right eyebrow at me, and I’m not sure if it’s because of my comment or because of the bread.

  “Of course I have to be there! You can’t sign without your manager.”

  “Sorry I’m late, Kates.” Nadine throws down her bag and coat without looking up. “That Ananda facial rocks and…” She sees Mom. “I’m out of here.” I grab the back of her green sweater.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” I tell her, but she won’t sit.

  “Then I’m going,” Mom says, getting up quickly.

  “No,” I tell them sternly. “I need to talk to both of you.”

  “I thought today was my Christmas gift,” Mom sniffs.

  “I thought the massage and lunch were my Christmas gift.” Nadine is whiny too. “You’re not what I want for Christmas either, Meg.”

  “This is what I’m talking about, Nadine.” Mom points a pink nail at her, and I brace for fighting. “Your flippant attitude is uncalled for. I think you—”

  “Stop,” I tell them. Then I smile sweetly at the waiter bringing over the salads that we didn’t order. I ordered everything beforehand so there would be no interruptions. “To be honest, the spa day isn’t either of your Christmas gifts. I needed to get you both in the same place at the same time.”

  “Well, that was dishonest, Kaitlin,” says Mom as she drips dressing on her salad, not even asking if it’s low-fat. “Why would you torture us around the holidays?”

  Nadine takes a seat on the other side of me and grabs a roll, much to Mom’s displeasure. “Surprisingly, Kates, I agree with her.”

  “Today isn’t a Christmas gift you can unwrap, but it is a gift of sorts,” I explain. I look down at the crispy lettuce leaves, hoping for a script to appear that would tell me exactly what to say to make them listen. “Aren’t you tired of being pushed and squeezed, always trying to catch your breath, doing what everyone else wants you to do?” I ask them both. “Don’t you want to be happy?”

  Mom raises her eyebrows. “Are you saying we’ve made you unhappy, Kaitlin?” She sounds very hurt. “I’ve given you everything you could possibly want and more. Even when I don’t understand—like when you and Drew Thomas broke up, or when you wanted to enroll at Clark Hall for a semester—I’ve let you do it. I didn’t realize you were so unhappy.”

  “You’re not making me unhappy.” I change my approach slightly. “I think I’m making you unhappy, Mom. Look at you!” I tell her. “I’ve never seen you so stressed. You’re not enjoying yourself. I know you’ve done an amazing job getting me where I am in my career, but at what cost to you? To our relationship? I know you want me to be bigger than Reese Witherspoon, Mom, but I’m only eighteen. I have time to get there.”

  “I don’t understand what you want me to say,” Mom says exasperatedly, and her BlackBerry buzzes urgently. She ignores it. “My happiness isn’t your concern. I’m worried about you, and if sometimes I seem a little stressed doing it, then—”

  “I’m worried about us,” I blurt out, and my voice cracks. “I know you could keep doing what you’re doing forever, driving yourself into the ground, but I need to see you as happy as Dad is with his new dealership. Your life shouldn’t all be about me and Matty. You deserve to enjoy yourself too.”

  Mom stutters, “I do, I mean, I—”

  I grab Mom’s hand. “I want more for us, Mom. I want a real relationship, and I don’t think we’ve had one in a very long time. I don’t want to be your employer anymore. I want to be your daughter, and I want you to act like my mom, not my manager.” My voice grows stronger. “I want to talk about normal stuff, like a fight I have with Austin or what you think of an outfit I’m wearing on a date or what I should do about going to college. And I want you to answer as my mom, not as someone who has a stake in the industry.” Tears start to plop down my cheeks.

  Mom is teary too and looks completely shocked by what I just said. “Oh, honey, of course I want to be your mom.” She leans over and hugs me tight, not letting go. “I thought I was being your mother, making sure your career was on track.” She looks at Nadine. “I always worried about someone taking advantage of my children. You see how this town can do that.” Nadine nods. “But that’s not what you really needed, was it?” Mom looks at me and I shake my head no. We’re both crying now, in the middle of the restaurant, and I don’t think either of us care. “I want us to have a real relationship too. I know you talk to your dad about things you don
’t with me. I hate that you think you can’t tell me anything important.” She strokes my hair and sighs heavily. “So what do we do to change this?”

  “For starters,” I say and wipe away my tears, “I think we have to separate our personal and professional relationships. I know you don’t want to do this, Mom, but I think I need to find a new manager.” She starts to protest, but I cut her off. “You’ve focused on my career forever, and you’ve made me a big star,” I say quickly. “I’m so grateful for all that you’ve done to get me here. Now it’s time for you to do the same for Matty. He needs you, Mom, and the two of you work well together.”

  Mom sniffs. “He does need me, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes. And when you’re not working, you and I can focus on our relationship, and you can spend time doing the other things you love, like working with the Darling Daisies.” I smile. “That’s your other Christmas present—I spoke to Nancy Walsh and told her what a mistake it was not to make you the chairperson of the West Coast committee. I told her you’d have more time to devote to your charity work now that we weren’t working together anymore, and she agreed to give the position to you. You’re gearing up the launch, Mom!”

  Mom looks stunned. “You called Nancy Walsh for me? I… this is incredible! Wait till I tell Victoria the news!” She goes to grab her BlackBerry, but then she looks at me. “I can’t do it. I can’t leave you like this.”

  I look her straight in the eyes. “I need a mom more.”

  Mom wipes under her eyes and sighs. “Okay, then. If this is what you really want…”

  “I do,” I say honestly. “I think this is the best thing for both of us.”

  “So where do we go to find you a new manager?” Mom says and grabs her BlackBerry for real, going straight back to work mode. She starts scrolling through numbers. “We need someone who can devote a lot of time to you, especially with the projects you have lined up, and someone who can—”

  I gently pull the BlackBerry out of her hands. “I already found someone.” I look at my former assistant. “Nadine.”