Fantasize

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Fantasize Page 9

by Maggie Mundy


  He didn’t want to go home yet and thought he would go downtown. There was a local refuge he liked to help out with. The place ran a mobile van that served food at a park. He remembered when he had gone to the van as a recipient years earlier. Lili had stayed back in the bushes, too scared to get close with the other homeless around. It had been a rough time in their lives, and he would do anything not to go back there.

  Both he and his sister were only on the streets for a month before he got a job. He’d been lucky, thanks to Pat, another homeless guy. Mitch had been eighteen and Lili, sixteen. When Nan died, the authorities were going to split them up. The lease was in Nan’s name, and when there was no money, the owner threw them out. Mitch had grabbed their documents and ran. The stories about the shit that happened to some kids in care were enough to make anyone run. He wasn’t about to let Lili go there. She was safer with him.

  At least five guys on the streets had tried to touch Lili when they were out there and he had beaten the shit out of them. Sometimes his rage was hard to stop. He didn’t care about his bruises as long as she was safe.

  Then one day, Mitch and Pat found some drug money. The two of them thought about handing it in, but were pretty sure the money would just disappear. Mitch used the money to get them a home. The first place was one room. It stank like hell and had a shared bathroom, but it was off the streets. That night he swore he would never let Lili go back to that again. It took a few more weeks, and he found the home they had now. Lili went back to school and he got jobs doing anything he could.

  He did the jobs no one else wanted, delivering anything at any time and cleaning out rubbish no one wanted to touch. The money was cash in hand, but it let him study photography. He did shoots of babies in shopping malls until the day he managed to catch a picture of a Hollywood director stealing. It made him money and everything else was history.

  He pulled up at the center and helped one of the guys named Duncan fill the van. The food smelled good. He had filled his own stomach with it often enough.

  “Can I come out with you?” Mitch asked.

  “Sure you can. Hey, I hear all those photos you took of the homeless sold. The boss said he got a nice check a few weeks back.”

  Mitch jumped in the passenger seat and wished he could do more. It felt like he was telling peoples stories, but he also felt he was using them. He always asked if he could take pictures down here. Funny, he asked the poor for permission but not the famous.

  He was booked to do teaching session at the women’s refuge later. Some of the women were doing portraits of each other for practice. It improved all the ladies’ self-esteem to make themselves presentable and to have a good picture taken. If one of them got a job or into some study, it would be good.

  The van stopped and Mitch helped set up the food on the table. The people were already lining up, knowing the food van turned up at a regular time. When he finished serving, he noticed Pat. Mitch had offered him a place with them to get himself sorted. He stayed for a while but then moved back to the streets. Sometimes it was too much for people to get back to joining society. Pat’s sister had paid Mitch a visit a while back. It was the only address she had for her brother.

  “How you doing, Pat?” Mitch asked.

  “Good for now. The weather isn’t too bad, so my goods are staying dry. Had some idiots trying to pinch my bag. Some of these punks forget vets are on the streets, too. Ran like babies when I fought back. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

  “You know you can always come back to our place. The door is always open for you.”

  “I know, you kids have always been good to me.”

  “Lili worries about you, and so do I.”

  “Had a visit from my sister. Mom and Dad are gone and she wants me to go live with her.”

  “Do you want to go?”

  “It’s out in the country and would be good. I’ll think about it. Said the place needs work and I can pay my way doing it up. She’s on her own too and the streets are taking their toll on me. Not as young as I used to be.”

  “If you chose to go, then let me know if you need a lift. Just tell them at the van and I’ll find you.”

  “You and Lili all right?”

  “She’s good and studying. Making us both proud.”

  “You should stop that crap you do. You’re better than that. It’s not right sneaking around on people. Not that you’ve ever taken my advice before.”

  “I’ll do you a deal. You go live with your sister and I’ll give it up.”

  “Got a girl yet?” Pat asked.

  It wasn’t lost on Mitch his friend was trying to change the subject. “I like one, but she’s the sort I usually creep around.”

  “That don’t surprise me that you’d make it hard on yourself.”

  Mitch hugged Pat and took a few snaps of the other people who were willing to have their photo taken. To so many people, the homeless were invisible. There was so much money in L.A. and yet it didn’t seem to seep down here, but he still loved California. It was a place in America where one could still dream and people didn’t care about where a person came from.

  He called into the refuge and did his class. He loved it when he saw the enthusiasm some of the women had when they could do something others could appreciate. It was as if they weren’t just surviving but coming alive again.

  As he pulled in at home, he checked his phone to see if there were any messages from Gemma. He hoped she would be okay. He knew she and her mother were not close but remembered how he felt when he and Lili lost their Nan. He always thought Nan would be there forever, more because he needed her to be. Their parents were dead and had never been there for him or his sister when they were alive.

  His phone rang. It was Gemma. It meant a lot she was calling him when times were rough. He wouldn’t let her down.

  “Hi, Mitch. Sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but it’s been a bit of a roller coaster.”

  He thought he could almost hear her voice cracking with stress and wished he could be there for her.

  “So, have you seen your mother yet?”

  “Yes. Last night as soon as I got here. She was pretty doped up and out of it, though. I needed to come and sort things out, anyway. I’m just not sure the stress will put more on her. I couldn’t live with being the cause of that.”

  “Look. Whatever it is, when you get back, we can talk and sort it out at this end.”

  “Thanks for being there for me. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel like you have done so much for me.”

  “You have definitely been close.”

  “I think I’m going red. I still can’t believe I did that.”

  “I’d like to see you again. Let me know when you get back and I’ll cook that meal I promised.”

  “I’d really like that. The taxi just pulled up at the hospital. I have to go. Bye, Mitch.”

  Mitch wanted to believe the two of them had something going on. When he was with her, everything seemed possible. Now she was in New York. If her family knew about him, they would be pushing him away. He wondered if it would always be like that if they were together. People always waiting for them to break up. That was Hollywood, though.

  Chapter Twelve

  There were photographers at the hospital as Gemma got out of the taxi. She held her head high and walked through as they snapped away. She wished Mitch were there holding her hand. It was silly after such a short time, but she really liked having him around. For the first time in her life, she felt she could just be herself with him. Not the actress, or the daughter, or the person who would help make people lots of money.

  Her mom was on the fourth floor in the cardiac ward. Gemma didn’t mind hospitals, but Mom hated them. Nona had been in one the last two months before she died of cancer. Mom would avoid them at all costs, which just meant she would be in a worse mood than normal. Gemma walked into the private room and saw more flowers had arrived. She hadn’t picked up anything to give her mother
yet. She was well aware the only gift her mother would want from her would be for her to move back to New York. It was even less likely to happen now she had met Mitch.

  Mom looked better. Her lips didn’t have the blue tinge to them from the day before, and there were definitely less monitors attached. Her father was there and her brothers would be visiting later. Gemma bent down and kissed her mother on both cheeks.

  “Well, I see all I have to do is have a heart attack to get you back.”

  Gemma smiled at her mother, determined not to take the bait. “Didn’t Dad tell you I was coming back on the weekend, anyway?”

  “Can you get me my makeup, dear? Some of my friends are coming in later and one day without makeup is quite enough for me.”

  Gemma’s father stood up. “I’m going to get a coffee now you’re here.”

  It wasn’t lost on Gemma he wanted to be gone from the room at any cost. Also, her mother was avoiding talking about or acknowledging anything she didn’t want to. How in hell’s name was Gemma ever going to bring up what was happening with Brandon? Gemma opened up the makeup case and started to apply some eye shadow to her mother.

  “You father is useless in hospitals. I thought he was going to have stroke bringing me here.”

  “So, what did the doctor say?” Gemma didn’t want to get drawn into the bickering between her parents.

  “It’s just a mild attack. I need to slow down, blah, blah. I need to delegate more. Some of the women on my charity committee for the church look wonderful, but do nothing. I’ll need to change my diet a bit, but I’ll be fine. Of course, if you came home for a while it would ease my load.”

  “I’m busy with filming at the moment, but I’ll come and visit when the season’s finished.”

  Gemma did her mother’s makeup and was putting the case away when the door to the room opened. She turned to see the doctor walk in and immediately recognized him. Damn, was the first word to come to her mind. She had forgotten Mom’s friend Gloria had a son who was a cardiologist—Italian and single. Mom wasn’t going to give up. She had tried to match them up in the past. Gemma took a deep breath and put out her hand to say hello.

  “You remember Mario. Dr. Fortunesca? He’s my good friend, Gloria’s son. She’ll be having a big party next weekend.”

  The poor man cringed and was obviously used to dealing with an Italian mother.

  “Hi, Gemma. I think we need to convince your mother she can’t go to said party. She’s feeling much better today but will need to rest when she goes home.”

  Her mother shook her head and wagged a finger at him. “I will, Doctor, especially if you pay any house calls.”

  Gemma could see where this was going and felt sorry for Mario. He picked up her mother’s charts and checked the monitors.

  “I need to have a few more blood tests done today plus another ECG. If everything is clear and you behave, you can go home tomorrow.”

  Mario left, and for one second, Gemma thought about bringing up the situation with Brandon.

  Her mother peered at her compact to check her makeup. Gemma was saved from making any more discussion when Gloria entered. Her mother’s friend had huge hair and squeezed her ample frame into a dress that made her breasts look like they were erupting.

  Gloria went over and kissed Gemma’s mother on both cheeks without actually touching so no lipstick was left on either woman’s faces. Seeing her mother’s friend and the two of them talking just reinforced Gemma didn’t belong here anymore.

  “I’ll leave now, and remember, not too many visitors and rest.” Gemma kissed her mother goodbye and promised to come back later.

  “Find out where your father is. If he’s smoking, tell him he is killing me with the stress.”

  Outside her mother’s room, Gemma leaned back against the wall and sighed. She had no idea how she was supposed to cope with this. When did acting for her mother’s approval become a way of life? At this moment, she wanted to go into the corner and curl up. She was a grown-up, and that was an unacceptable choice for her agents, managers, or publicists.

  Mario was at the nurse’s desk when she walked out. Gemma felt sorry for him being pulled into her crap.

  He smiled at her as she walked away. She couldn’t deny he was cute, but there was only one guy on her mind right now and he was a paparazzo back in L.A. She made her way back down to the front of the hospital. As her mother expected, her father was smoking a cigarette. He put it out and she hugged him. It was a pity, because she was going to ask him for a drag.

  “How you doing, Dad?” Gemma wanted the answer even if it broke her heart.

  “I’m good. Ask me in a month, though, and I may be swigging brandy. Your mother and I only get along because we avoid each other. I have the business and she had her charity ladies’ organization.”

  Her parents would never divorce, being good Catholics. Gemma couldn’t understand a religion that would make people stay together when they were so miserable.

  “I’ll stay in New York until she comes home. The doctor thinks it’s pretty mild. She will be back to her old form in no time.” Gemma really hoped that was the case.

  “So, why were you coming home then?”

  There was no way she was telling her father first about the issues with Brandon. Her mother might drive her up the wall, but she would give her the benefit of the doubt. If the marriage was going down the drain, it would be their choice, not hers.

  “I’ve a friend who is in a show off Broadway and she wants me to go. She helped me out when I was back here so I thought I would do the same.” Even Gemma knew that was an unconvincing answer, but her father wouldn’t push it.

  “Thanks for coming. I know the two of you don’t get along. I better go back up before your mother and Gloria plan something evil.”

  Gemma went back to her parents’ house and up to her room. Her brothers were at work and she wanted to lie on her bed and try to get her thoughts together. How the hell was she going to resolve anything? Her cell phone pinged with a message. It was Mitch. For the first time since she had gotten up that morning, she smiled. She speed dialed him.

  “Hi, Mitch. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. More importantly, what’s up with you?”

  “I wish I was back in L.A. My mother may be sick, but she still has her razor-sharp words. I remembered why I left.”

  “So, do you need to talk with her about the problem you have?”

  “Yes, I do but to be honest I don’t think I can at the moment. I can’t cause more stress. I’ll be back on Sunday night and I want to talk to you about an idea I have.”

  “That sounds interesting, and I can cook for you like I promised. Look, I’ve another call coming though. Text me if you want to talk more.”

  Gemma wanted to put all her clothes back in her suitcase and head for the airport, but that wasn’t happening. She would learn her lines for the next episode of Dark Storm and then go back and see Mom again.

  The next visit didn’t go any better than the first, and Gemma skirted around the subject of what she was doing in L.A. She would go back to the hospital and pick up Mom with Dad the next day.

  ****

  Now Mom was home she was ruling the roost. Dad looked as if he would have a heart attack as well if he had to put up with it much longer. A nurse had been organized and Mom was making the poor woman jump through hoops. Gemma grabbed her suitcase and left it in the hall. The taxi was booked for an hour and she wished it was here now. In the lounge room, her mother lay on the couch with her friends surrounding her. Gemma was so tempted to head over to the liquor cabinet but would hold off and get a double at the airport.

  Gloria glanced Gemma’s way and went in for the kill. “So when are you moving back to New York, Gemma? I heard the show is not the big break you thought it would be.”

  Gemma was pretty sure the comment had been set up by her mother. “It’s doing well at the moment and we’ve signed contracts for another season.” She didn’t even kn
ow why she was bothering to respond to the bait. The conversation involving her dried up then, and her mother and friends continued to talk about their next function.

  The doorbell rang and Gemma excused herself to answer it. Mario stood there. For some reason, Gemma felt she had been set up as she raised an eyebrow and he grinned.

  “Do come in. I didn’t know you did house calls.”

  “I don’t, but your mother left some of her medication behind and my mother texted me to drop it off. I think they’re matchmaking. I’m sorry about this.”

  Gemma was glad the two of them could be honest with each other. “Me too. They can’t help themselves. I didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday, but how are you doing?”

  “I love my job, and don’t tell my mother, but I have met someone. She is Jewish so I’m not sure how that will go down. What about you out in L.A?”

  “It’s hard sometimes as most guys want to use you for your fame or money. Like you, whoever I choose, the poor person would have to go up against the Spanish Inquisition in there.” Gemma indicted with a nod toward the lounge room.

  “Well, I’ll go and give your mother her medicine. Are you staying much longer?”

  “I’ve booked a taxi to the airport.”

  “I can take you. Why don’t you cancel?”

  As Mario drove her to the airport, Gemma relaxed. Her mother had this ability to freak her out. He pulled up at the curb and she got out. Mario came around and took her suitcase out of the trunk.

  “Thanks so much for the rescue.” Gemma leaned forward to give Mario a peck on the cheek just as he turned his head, and their lips met. She jumped back, pulling a face and feeling awkward. Lights went off from a camera and she knew the paparazzi were nearby. She whispered to Mario.

  “Sorry, the picture will probably be online or in a magazine. If you need me to talk to your girlfriend and explain, just let me know.”

 

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