Lauren and Gideon both laughed. They’d secretly got hitched the day before and Gillian was the first person they’d told about the marriage or about Lauren’s pregnancy. “We got married yesterday and yes, we are having a baby!”
Gillian had never seen Lauren so happy. She knew that her mother’s betrayal and arrest had caused Lauren great pain, but thankfully the joy of her new family seemed to have soothed some of the heartache.
“Oh my God! Congratulations! I’m so excited!” she screamed.
“What’s going on here?” Reese walked over to the threesome and hugged everyone but lingered when she embraced Lauren. “I’m so sorry for what happened. Would you please forgive me?” Even though Rowe’s bone marrow transplant was scheduled for the next morning, Reese felt that she had to come out tonight to support Gillian, who had always been there for her.
“Consider it done,” Lauren said with a very broad smile. Nothing could steal her joy at this moment.
“So, what is going on here?” Reese asked again, looking around at all of the smiling faces.
“We’re having a baby!” Lauren blurted out.
“When did all of this happen?” Reese asked, hugging Lauren.
“It’s a long but very happy story,” Lauren answered.
“Well, you deserve every bit of it,” Reese said. She’d always been a little jealous of Lauren. She envied the fact that she’d been born into wealth and privilege and came with a pedigree that she never had to strive to achieve. In addition to all of that, she was also drop-dead gorgeous. It had all seemed unfair to Reese, who’d had to scheme, scrape, and fight for everything she’d ever had. But over the last few years, and especially within the last week, she’d come to realize that the grass is always greener and much more plush on the other side of the street, even if the street was in Beverly Hills. What she truly admired was the grace with which Lauren handled both sides. It was time that she found some of that grace. After all, she, too, was blessed in so many ways.
“Thank you,” Lauren said, smiling from ear to ear.
Gideon took a glass of sparking water from a passing waiter for Lauren, and Gillian raised her glass of Champagne. “I’d like to propose a toast to the missing member of our foursome, Paulette. If it weren’t for her generosity, I wouldn’t be here, so I’d like to dedicate this night to our sister.” They each raised their glasses in honor of Paulette.
Just then the band quieted down and Brandon took the stage and motioned for Gillian to join him. He looked fabulous in a custom Armani tuxedo. Gillian also noticed that he seemed more settled and confident than she’d ever known him to be.
“Thank you all for coming out to celebrate my wife, Gillian’s, Oscar nomination,” he began.
The room burst into spontaneous applause.
Brandon looked at Gillian beaming with pride and said, “My wife is the most beautiful and most talented—”
“Bitch!” a near-hysterical sounding voice boomed. Everyone turned to see a woman standing—though swaying slightly—in the back of the room with a glazed, drug-induced haze in her eyes. It was Lydia, who had managed to sneak onto the property, seeking revenge. Since being forced to cancel her book, her publisher was demanding repayment of the hefty advance—much of which she’d already spent—her ex-fiancé had reneged on his re-proposal, and she was now the laughingstock of Hollywood. No amount of therapy, cocaine, or barbiturates could soothe the anger that she felt.
Security began moving in her direction, but before they could get to her, she pulled a pistol from her shoulder bag and began waving it around erratically. Her hands were shaking as she yelled, “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot.”
“Lydia, put the gun down,” Brandon said in a calm, even voice.
“Don’t you tell me what to do!” she screamed. “I did everything for your precious Gillian, and what did you do? You fired me! Threw me away like trash.”
“Lydia, I’m sorry,” he said in his most soothing voice, trying to calm her down and keep her attention on him until one of the security guards was able to sneak up on her.
“I’ll bet you’re sorry,” she spat bitterly. “I put everything I had into making Gillian a star and you fired me because of her gold-digging, has-been mother? Then you send your goons after me.”
“Lydia, I didn’t send anyone after you.”
“You’re a liar!” she screamed. “And I have proof.” She pulled a note from her pocket and shook it at him.
It was Paulette’s note, Brandon realized. “Lydia, calm down.”
“Fuck you and your golden girl,” she said, aiming the gun at Gillian.
Just then, one of the security guards lunged at her, grabbing for the gun.
Everyone screamed.
But it was too late.
She’d pulled the trigger.
A bullet went flying toward its target.
Chapter 48
The mood in the ER waiting room at Cedars-Sinai was one of gloom and doom. The bullet, a .38 caliber, had punctured a lung, but thanks to the paramedics, the patient made it to Cedars-Sinai’s emergency room with a steady though weak pulse.
Brandon, Lauren, and Reese huddled together, each saying silent prayers that she would pull through.
The surgeon on call, Dr. Edmonds, approached the group wearing a somber expression of his own. “You can visit her, but not for long and only one at a time.”
“How is she?” Brandon asked anxiously.
“She’s still alive, which is a miracle considering the internal damage, but it is touch and go.”
“Brandon, you should hurry,” Reese said.
When he entered the intensive care room, he nearly froze in his steps at the sight before him.
“Tell me she’ll be okay,” Gillian begged, tears streaming down her face, taking with them all traces of the glamorous Academy Award–nominated actress from the previous night. At this moment, she was simply a daughter distraught over the possibility of losing her mother; a mother whom she’d never completely understood. And after the brave and selfless act of jumping between a bullet and Gillian, she understood her even less. One thing was clear though, for the first time, Gillian felt as if her mother truly did love her.
Brandon held Gillian while together with Charli they watched Imelda clinging to life. Her once beautiful face was gaunt and drained of color. She appeared thirty years older, Gillian thought.
“Imelda is tough, remember that. If anybody can pull through this, she can,” Brandon said.
Suddenly, the rhythmic hum of machines turned to a frantic chaotic burst of warnings, and seconds later a team of doctors and nurses rushed into the room shoving Gillian and Brandon aside in their frantic attempt to keep Imelda from flatlining.
Shock set in as Gillian faced that harsh reality that she could lose her mother before ever having the chance to thank her for saving her life.
It was all a blur. She remembered standing by as Brandon spoke and then registering some commotion in the crowd and seeing a deranged-looking Lydia emerge from the crowd. The next thing she knew, there was a loud sound and Imelda lurched forward to cover her, knocking them both to the ground. When the chaos subsided, there was a crowd around the two of them and her mother wasn’t moving. Blood pooled beneath her. She and Charli screamed at the same time.
Later in the waiting room, Reese sat holding Charli’s hands, while they waited for the doctors to stabilize her mother.
“Let’s pray,” Reese said. Rowe and Max had just been taken into surgery and she felt compelled to try yet another prayer, not only for Rowe, but also for Imelda, whom she now had a much greater level of respect for after she risked her own life to save her daughter’s. If Imelda could be redeemed as a mother, it gave Reese hope that so could she.
Charli looked at her as though she were a bit surprised. From what little she knew about Reese, she didn’t seem to be the praying kind, but she bowed her head nonetheless.
“Dear God, we come before you as weak, and sometimes
unworthy subjects, but awed by your power and made better by your greatness. Also, knowing that until our last breath, it’s never too late to learn how to walk the path through which you guide us. Though I’ve never fully understood your role in my life, I now know that you are my life, and that I am your manifestation on earth. In your son, Jesus Christ’s name, I pray to you for understanding and for mercy for both friends and fauxs. I also pray for healing. I pray that you will heal our hearts and our minds and our bodies. In particular I pray for your child, my son, Rowe Nolan, as he prepares for his transplant, and most urgently, I pray for your daughter, and Gillian and Charli’s mother, Imelda, as she fights for the life that you’ve blessed us with. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.”
When Reese opened her eyes and held her head up, there stood Chris.
“When did you find religion?” he asked, looking skeptical.
“I didn’t,” she said softly, “it found me.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Chris said.
“What are you doing here?” Reese hadn’t heard from Chris since he stormed out of the house, only from his lawyers. They’d phoned threatening to discontinue child support payments. At first she was petrified at the thought of losing the money that she relied on to pay all of her bills. The remainder of her lump-sum settlement, what she hadn’t put in the house and spent on material things, had shrunk considerably with the slump on Wall Street. She soon realized that as long as she and Rowe had their health, their friends, and each other, the rest really didn’t matter as much as she’d always thought it did.
“I’m here for Rowe.”
Her face twisted in confusion. “But you walked out?” She didn’t expect to ever see him again, unless it was in court.
“Yes, I did, because I was angry at you, but that has nothing to do with Rowe. He may not be my biological son, but I still love him, and I’ll always be here for him.”
Brandon raced over and called to Charli, “You should come in now, it doesn’t look good.”
The alarm on Brandon’s face made her blood run cold. She was just coming to terms with losing the woman she’d always thought was her mother, but to find her real mom and lose her in the same week was unbearable.
She and Brandon raced down the hall into the intensive care room where the trauma team had managed to restart Imelda’s heart, but she was still unconscious and her vitals were sketchy.
Gillian and Charli hugged, clinging to each other and to the fading hope that they would not lose their mother. After wiping their tears, they each stood on one side of the bed, holding one of Imelda’s perfectly manicured hands.
“Mom, can you hear me?” Gillian asked. “Charli and I are both here with you. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Yes, Mom. Gillian is right. You’re gonna be fine,” Charli said, though her fresh stream of tears said otherwise.
“Mom, you have to wake up, we need you and we love you.” Gillian realized she’d never told her mom that she loved her, which brought a fresh stream of tears down her cheeks as well. “I love you so much.”
At that moment Imelda stirred, tightening her weak grip on both their hands.
Gillian turned to Brandon. “Go get the doctor, I think she’s waking up.”
In seconds Dr. Edmonds was taking vitals and increasing meds. “She appears a lot more stable, her blood pressure is up, and her heartbeat is stronger.”
A sense of relief washed over Gillian and Charli when they saw their mother’s eyes flicker open.
“Mom, it’s us, Gillian and Charli,” Gillian said anxiously. Tears of joy began to flow. “We thought we were losing you.”
“You… think… I’d… miss… the… Oscars?” she managed weakly before she closed her eyes again to rest.
Gillian turned to Charli, smiled, and said, “I think she’s going to be just fine.”
Chapter 49
After months of hype, hyperventilation, and much speculation, the big day had finally arrived. Tinseltown was abuzz with gossip and chatter about what designers celebrities were wearing as they inched ever so slowly down the red carpet, pretending to avoid being stopped along the way for those syrupy and sometimes catty interviews with E!, Access Hollywood, and anybody else with a cameraman, a live mic, and a talking head.
Between the truckloads of diamonds, flashy designer gowns, exfoliated, Botoxed, self-tanned, and professionally made-up faces, the Kodak Theatre felt more like a three-ring circus with too many ringmasters than an auditorium.
Gillian Tillman-Russell wore a gray warm-up suit by Juicy Couture, brown and gray sneakers by Nike, and dark circles under her eyes. The style was completed by the bed-head grunge look, but no one in her entourage cared the least.
“You don’t wish you were there?” Charli asked her. Gillian, Charli, Brandon, Reese, Chris, Lauren, and Gideon were all seated in a large hospital room along with both Rowe and Imelda. The hospital had thrown together an impromptu Oscar party. A large flat-screen TV hung on the wall so they could watch the Academy Awards to see if Gillian would win the ever-prestigious Oscar.
“There is no other place in the world that I’d rather be,” Gillian answered. Though she’d fantasized for months about walking the red carpet and being among the glitterati of Hollywood, fantasyland was quickly put into perspective by the reality of nearly losing her mother and of Reese nearly losing her son.
“I wish I could say the same thing,” Imelda retorted. Though she was still weak, she was back to being herself, having ordered a hair stylist to come to her hospital room, diva style, insisting that she’d feel much better much quicker if only her hair were done. The next call was for a manicure and pedicure.
Reese laughed. “There was a time when I would have moved the heavens, the Earth, and Gillian aside to be there, but I agree, there is no other place in the world I’d rather be than right here.” She reached over and rubbed Rowe’s cheek, which now actually had a little color in it. The bone marrow transplant had gone beautifully and there was already an improvement in his white blood count.
“I’d rather be playing soccer,” he said with a little smirk. The active little boy that they knew before was making a comeback.
“Soon, little man, soon,” Chris said, rubbing his head. He didn’t care who his biological father was, Rowe was his son, and that was all that mattered. Max, selfish as always, had no desire to get involved in Rowe’s life, and only donated the bone marrow to get a more favorable sentence for his involvement in Paulette’s death.
Reese turned to Lauren and smiled. “Soon you’ll have your own little one to love and worry about.”
“I know. We couldn’t be happier about it. I’m just sorry that my mom won’t be around to experience it with me.” Having her mother, who was out on bail, charged with murder was still more like a Hollywood drama than anything that could have happened in her life. Though Mildred had called Lauren repeatedly, Lauren wasn’t ready to face the ugliness of her mother and her actions. But she was ready to get on with her life. She and Gideon had decided to cut down on their world travel until after the baby was born. In the meantime, they were opening galleries in both New York and L.A. so Lauren would be closer to her friends, who were now more like her family.
“Shhh, shhhh,” Imelda said, “the best actress category is coming up.”
They all grew quiet, as Jennifer Hudson walked forward to present the award.
After reciting the nominees and showing glowing clips of each performance, she said, “And the winner is… Gillian Tillman-Russell!”
The hospital room erupted, and all who could jumped up and ran over to hug Gillian, who stood still in shock. Though she’d imagined winning, she never really believed that she would.
“Gillian Russell isn’t here to accept her award, as you all know; her mother, Baroness Imelda von Glich, is still in the hospital recuperating.”
“She mentioned my name! She mentioned my name!” squealed Imelda, who was now feeling even better. A couple of networks had alrea
dy called to interview her about her heroism. Larry King had even called. She couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital to hit the circuit. Maybe she should get her own publicist…
“So I’ll accept the award on her behalf. Congratulations, Gillian!”
“Yeah, congratulations, baby. You deserve it,” Brandon said, hugging her close. “And I love you, and always will.” He could barely contain his happiness; Imelda and Rowe were alive and well, Gillian had won the little gold statue, and he’d managed to remove Paulette’s note from Lydia’s mad clutches after security took her down. Suitcase finally closed.
“I love you, too,” Gillian said, and for the first time since she’d known Brandon, she really meant it.
Epilogue
“Awww, she is so adorable!” Gillian said, smooching the cute little two-month-old’s chubby cheeks.
“I’m already claiming her for Rowe,” Reese said. “She is a beauty!”
“Thank you,” Lauren said, beaming with pride at her gorgeous, healthy, and happy baby girl. “But you’ll have to talk to Gideon, I don’t think he’ll ever want her to date.”
“Isn’t that right, daddy’s little girl,” she cooed.
“Thanks, guys, for coming to New York and all the way up here to Westchester, but I know that this is what Paulette would want.”
“Which Paulette?” Gillian teased.
In honor of her cousin, Lauren named her daughter Paulette. They’d gathered at her graveside to celebrate Paulette Dolliver’s life and to introduce her to her new little cousin, Paulette Gimble.
Reese popped the cork on a bottle of Paul Goerg, Paulette’s favorite Champagne, and filled their glasses with the bubbly elixir.
They all raised their flutes high to the sky and Lauren sang out, “To you, Paulette. May you finally rest in peace.”
Readers’ Guide
1. Did Reese’s initial decision to put other things ahead of Rowe’s life necessarily mean that she didn’t love him?
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