Separate Like Stars

by Diana Kane

  “Why would Marie think that?”

  “Because my mom invited Olivia to join us the other morning at breakfast and Marie jumped to conclusions after seeing the latest photos of you and what’s her name.”

  “I am sorry,” she reiterates as she shifts her weight and lays along my back before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “How do you manage to keep things under the radar?” she asks as she continues to work at the knot with her right hand.

  “There hasn’t been anything to keep under the radar,” I inform her, immediately regretting sharing this when her hand stops working.

  “Nothing?” she asks, the surprise in her voice prompting me to attempt to turn my head to look at her. “Not once?” I try to shake my head in response, but barely manage the movement before that persistent knot reminds me that it’s there. “I didn’t know,” she says as she resumes working at the hindering bundle. “I mean, I just assumed I hadn’t heard about anything because you moved back to that sleepy small town.”

  “Are you still upset about that?” I inquire.

  “That you moved out of our place in LA?”

  “It was never our place. It was your place, and you were never there,” I remind her. “You spend ten months out of the year filming, and you’re on some promotional tour the other two. I’m not even sure why you own that house.”

  “I could sell it. We could buy a place together,” she offers with sincerity in her voice.

  “You love that house. Besides, you know I left LA because I wasn’t happy there. I like living in Jupiter Falls. It’s quiet, I can commute from point A to point B in a reasonable amount of time, my family is there, and I have privacy. None of those things exist in LA,” I remind her once again.

  “I know,” she replies in a pouty tone. “You could always travel with me. We can find places that would allow you to bring the cats. Maybe the changes in scenery would help you with your writer’s block,” she offers, trying to be helpful.

  “Please don’t remind me,” I practically whine as I turn my head and rest it on my forearms again. “I don’t think anything is going to help me get past it.”

  “Still struggling then,” she observes as she sits up and resumes working on my neck.

  “What if I’ve run out of ideas?”

  “Stop it. You have a brilliant mind that’s full of fresh ideas. Something will stand out when you least expect it. You need to stop stressing about it before you end up with premature wrinkles,” she warns me.

  “I’m a writer. it doesn’t matter if I have premature wrinkles. Besides, I already have my first gray hair,” I inform her.

  “You do not,” she answers as her weight shifts, and her hands stop working so rhythmically. “I don’t see it,” she informs me as she settles in again.

  “That’s because I pulled it out this morning,” I admit with a quiet laugh as Addison continues rubbing my neck.

  “Now that you’re finally relaxed a little, do I dare ask how things are going with Olivia?” she inquires after a few minutes of silence. I sigh and immediately feel myself start to tense up again at the mere mention of Olivia’s name.

  “I guess you could say it’s a work in progress. We both survived the tour of her soon to be restaurant and dinner at mom and Scott’s last night.”

  “You had dinner together last night? You never mentioned that.”

  “Well I’ve barely spoken to you since you started filming again and I didn’t even know about it until yesterday at breakfast. Mom considers her a part of the family, informed me that it was a family dinner, and that attendance was mandatory.”

  “I do need to do a better job of connecting with you for more than five minutes at a time when I’m on location,” she observes for at least the hundredth time. “So how did it go?”

  “It was fine. Honestly, she was busy catching up with my uncles and meeting Scott and the girls. We were civil on the ride there and the ride home, and I didn’t have to fake it at dinner, so I’d call it progress.”

  “Progress? Has it been that bad?”

  “I have a lot of unresolved anger towards her, and it randomly rears its head. But I’m trying to work through it. She’s made it clear that she’d like to be friends if it’s possible. We should be civil at the very least since we’re neighbors,” I add as someone knocks on the door.

  “Come in,” Addison calls out. “Hi Steph,” Addison greets her, also letting me know who our visitor is.

  “Hey Steph,” I call out, not bold enough to try to turn my head to look at her.

  “Hello. I just stopped by to let you know that Jordan’s gown for this evening is at the hotel. Also, your car is ready for you, as Doug instructed.” I quietly chuckle to myself as Steph’s nervousness comes through in her voice. I’m not sure why she’s nervous about seeing Addison giving me a fully clothed massage, she’s certainly caught us in more compromising positions. Then again, maybe we’ve scarred her for life, and she isn’t sure if we have the self control to not rip the clothes off of each other in front of her.

  “Thanks, Steph. Could you see if someone is available to color Jordan’s hair tomorrow?” I can hear the teasing in Addison’s tone, but know Steph likely has her phone out and ready to attend to Addison’s latest request.

  “Please disregard that, Steph. My hair is fine,” I add as I reach back to swat Addison on the side of her ass.

  “All right. Would you like me to book the two of you for massages before your call in the morning?”

  “We’ll be fine, thanks anyway,” I finish through a giggle as Addison begins tickling my side as retribution for the slap to her ass.

  “Thank you, Steph. We’ll be out shortly,” Addison informs her.

  “Gown for tonight?” I inquire when I hear the door click shut.

  “Doug scheduled dinner for us alone tonight, dinner with some of the cast tomorrow night, and got us tickets to some show on Saturday,” she informs me. This is another reason I dislike having to do the damage control protocol. Doug thinks that Addison and I have to make a month’s worth of public sightings in a five day period.

  “Doug is a douchebag. Not to mention the fact that you’ve been filming all day, aren’t you tired?”

  “Doug can be a douchebag, but he’s good at what he does. Besides, objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” she answers with way too much energy. She has a point. Doug is good at his job, I just can’t stand his phone calls where he acts as though he represents me.

  “Right up until those objects turn 30,” I attempt to educate her.

  “Stop pretending that you’re old,” she admonishes me as she slips her hands under my shirt, slowly working the muscles along the small of my back.

  “Get back to me next year when you turn 30. Trust me. Something happens to your body. You transform from someone who could stay out until 4 am and still make it to work and be fully functional on three hours of sleep, into someone who has to be in bed by 10 or 11 at the latest or the whole next day is a wash if you can’t find time for a nap.”

  “Does that mean if I don’t have you back to the hotel before 10, we won’t be having sex tonight?” she asks as she leans down and starts kissing my neck.

  “Well, as long as it’s by 10 I think I’ll be up for it,” I tease her as I tilt my head slightly, allowing her better access.

  “Then it’s a good thing I have a late call tomorrow morning,” she shares before nibbling on my earlobe. “What about right now?” she asks as she unhooks my bra.

  “Don’t we have reservations to make?” I attempt as a veil of resistance, giving the ploy away as I arch my back up, allowing Addison’s hands to reach around and cup my breasts.

  “They’ll wait. We’re Addison Foster and Jordan Cohen, the whole world will wait for us if we want it to.” Not the whole world, I think as I roll over in time to see Addison pull her shirt over her head.

  Chapter 16

  I smile as my usual alarm clock pulls me out of a deep sleep. “10 am, that was
generous you guys,” I greet Artemis and Apollo, who moments ago woke me in their typical fashion. Every morning they perch on opposites sides of my head and alternate tapping their paws against my forehead. I could be grumpy given that my flight landed late last night and after doting on them upon my arrival home I didn’t get to bed until after four, but I missed them too much to be upset. “All right, let’s get you some breakfast,” I say to the impatient duo as I flip the sheet back and slip out of bed. Even at this later than normal hour, they both know what’s about to happen, causing me to laugh as they bolt downstairs where I know I’ll find them impatiently circling while they wait for food.

  A short while later I find myself pulling into the cemetery to visit Mrs. O’Connor and swap out her flowers. I grab my water bottle and the fresh arrangement and exit the air-conditioned confines of my car into the already hot, sunshine filled day. Squinting despite my sunglasses, I slow my steps when I spot the unmistakable form of Olivia visiting her mother’s final resting place. Not wanting to intrude on her visit, I take a seat under a nearby tree and pull out my phone to continue reading the suspense thriller I began on my flight home.

  “You had no right! Do you have any idea how angry I am with you right now?” I hear Olivia’s elevated voice, and wonder if she’s addressing me. I quickly look up and discover her still standing at her mother’s grave, her hands wildly gesticulating as she continues her verbal tirade. “What you did—.”

  “Olivia,” I call out as I quickly get to my feet, leaving the flowers and water bottle under the tree as I make my way to her side. She jumps at the sound of my voice before turning to look over her shoulder at me. I’m shocked when I see her tear-streaked face and the red puffiness of her eyes. “What’s going on?” I ask when I’m finally standing next to her.

  “Nothing. I gotta go,” she quickly answers, barely looking at me before she dashes for her car.

  “Okay,” I mumble, totally bewildered as I turn back to the tree to retrieve my belongings.

  *****

  Sweat covers my body as I soak up the sun on this 90 degree late August day. I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in ages, even after stops at du Pays, the grocery store, the farmers market, and Olivia’s house. I tried to track Olivia down to see if she’s okay, but I failed to find her. Now nothing exists in my head except focusing on my breathing and the Lana Del Rey song that’s playing.

  Sometime later I find myself lost in humming along to Amy Winehouse covering Valerie as the sun beats down on my back. I should probably get dressed and head inside soon, but I know the opportunities to tan like this will start dwindling soon enough as summer transitions into fall. Besides, I still haven’t come up with anything to write about, so what would be the point in giving up before the sun does? I just manage to clear my mind again when I feel something on my bicep. Before I can raise my head from the face pillow, I feel it again on my shoulder. I finally manage to slightly lift my upper body and squint against the sun’s blinding rays to discover Lexa at my side. I quickly look behind her and discover Olivia standing a few feet away, staring at me through sunglass-covered eyes, her lips slightly parted and her body immobile.

  “It’s just my ass,” I inform her, causing her to snap her head up the length of my body to my face. Still an ass woman, I think as she continues remaining mute. “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” I remind her with a smirk.

  “Yeah,” she finally responds, her voice raspy. “Shit…I’m sorry,” she eventually adds before turning around.

  “It’s okay,” I assure her as I sit up and grab my discarded clothes, quickly slipping back into them, immediately hating having a bra on again. “It’s my fault. I’m not used to having a neighbor anymore. I’m dressed,” I inform her as I slip my sunglasses over my eyes.

  “I really am sorry. Lexa and I went for a walk, and I heard the music from the front porch.”

  “It’s fine. I tried to touch base with you earlier. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, it’s just…what is that?” she asks, her head turning to something over my shoulder. I turn and follow her gaze, not seeing anything that seems out of the ordinary.

  “The catio?” I ask as I watch Lexa, Artemis, and Apollo sniffing each other through the fence.

  “Catio?” she echoes me, not taking her eyes off of the trio.

  “Not sure what else I should call it, but yeah, the cats’ patio or catio. I built it shortly after Addison gave them to me. They love being outside, and well, it’s safer for them to have their own enclosure. So I built the frame, surrounded it in fencing, added a few stumps and branches, and viola, the catio. They love it, and I don’t have to worry about their safety.”

  “You built that?”

  “Yeah. I could build you one for Lexa, but I think you’d be better-served fencing in your backyard,” I lamely joke. “Anyway, you were saying?”

  “Oh, right. I wanted to discuss something with you, but I should’ve taken Lexa home first. Would it be okay if I took her home and came back?”

  “Sure, or I could follow you if you’d like. I didn’t go for a run this morning, so I should at least pretend to get a little exercise in.”

  “All right. Lexa,” she calls out, immediately causing the pup to rush to her side. “Do you need to take them inside?”

  “Nah, they’ll be fine. They can’t get out, and they love the sunshine,” I answer as we both look at the pair already lounging in the grass again. “Thanks for checking on them while I was out of town. Mom doesn’t mind, but it’s nice that you saved her those trips out here.”

  “It’s fine,” she answers as we start making our way to her house. “How was your trip? I saw the pictures. You looked radiant.”

  “That’s kind of you,” I mechanically respond as Lexa moves between us and licks my hand.

  “Are you ok? Did something happen?” she asks, her steps slowing as she looks over at me.

  “Nothing happened, and I’m fine. Just trying to relax after feeling like some on-demand performer the last few days,” Olivia’s eyebrows shoot up over her aviators, and I know I’ll have to elaborate. “It just gets tiring feeling like your whole day has been mapped out for you. Those dinners and the show…they were all arranged by Doug, Addison’s PR guy. I didn’t even know eight out of the ten people we were out with, but I had to go along with it and pretend that I had been friends with them for the longest time. It’s all such a sham sometimes that I miss lazy nights in and spontaneity.” I manage to laugh as Lexa tears off after a butterfly. She’s so big that sometimes it’s easy to forget that she’s still a puppy. “I shouldn’t complain though. Addison loves the life.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I never did. It’s always you’ve been booked here, you can’t be seen there or with this person, there’s a lot of quid pro quo, and you spend a lot of energy trying to figure out if people are being genuine. But Addison is young and works hard. She deserves to live life in a manner that makes her happy.”

  “Everyone deserves that much. Is that why you moved back here?” she asks as we stroll into her backyard.

  “It’s part of it. I moved into Addison’s place in LA after we finished filming the last movie. But she’s rarely there, and I honestly didn’t enjoy living in LA. The traffic, the noise, commuting is impossible, the paparazzi, none of it was for me. Mom was getting ready to move in with Scott, and I had paid off the house years ago. Living here suits me much more than living in LA, New York, and Chicago ever did.” Olivia’s soft chuckle makes its way to me on the stagnant air, causing me to reexamine everything I just shared. “What’d I miss?” I ask when I continue drawing a blank.

  “Nothing. I just find it slightly amusing that the girl who couldn’t stand living in this town when she first moved here, can’t stand to live in the big city now that she’s an adult.”

  “Hey, I—,” I begin, but the ability to speak flees when Olivia bends over and I spot the object that falls out of her tank top.

  “Y
ou?” Olivia asks as she looks up at me, still bent over untangling the garden hose. “Are you looking down my top?” she asks with a playful smirk.

  “No,” I manage as she stands up again and I take a few steps closer to her, just to be sure. My hand shakes as I reach out and grasp the silver chain, gently pulling it towards me so I can snag the ring it secures around her neck. “I thought you got rid of this,” I manage to whisper.

  “My ring?” I nod, unable to answer verbally. “Why would you think that?”

  “You never took it off, so when I didn’t see you wearing it, I just assumed you had sold it or something,” I share as I continue pinching the ring between my thumb and forefinger.