“That’s not like you. What’s going on?”
“I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay, but please do.”
“Oh, and Dahlia, call River.”
She hangs up without a goodbye and I just stare at the blank screen. Then I notice the text.
At 1:53 a.m. from Jagger:
I’m going to give you some time, but we’re by no means over.
Sitting alone in my car, I contemplate texting him back to tell him how much I miss him. But I promised myself I would get out of this relationship before I was in too deep and I know I need to stick to my promise.
The elevator door dings on the tenth floor and as I exit I realize how exhausted I am. Feeling preoccupied, I don’t even notice Shelly approaching me.
“Good morning, Ms. Daniels,” she says, stopping to look at me.
“Good morning, Shelly. Any messages?”
“Yes, a few.” She hands me the newspaper and a handful of pink colored rectangular pieces of paper.
“Thank you. Anything urgent?”
“Umm . . . I’m not sure. Are you okay?”
“Yes, why do you ask?” I manage a small smile.
“You’re wearing jeans. You never wear jeans to work.”
I shrug. “I didn’t feel like dressing up today.”
“Well, you look incredible as always. And I love your scarf,” she remarks.
I nod a thank you. With my head pounding, the lack of sleep quickly catching up with me, I hustle down the hallway so I can sit down. Through the open door, I see Kay packing up some boxes. She’s wearing a loose fitting canary yellow dress with matching shoes. Her hair is down and the color of her outfit makes it look even redder.
“Moving day?” I ask.
“Not quite, but soon. Damon tells me everything should be ready by the end of the day. Not that I haven’t enjoyed rooming with you,” she jokes, “but I’m ready to get my own place.”
I laugh. “I understand.”
“Oh, by the way, Jules got a call early this morning. Final screen tests are today. She’s on her way now. I’m just so excited for her. I really think she’s going to get the part. And she thinks her old boyfriend, you know the guy she was auditioning with yesterday, is a shoo-in for the lead as well. Maybe my little sis will find true love with him again.”
Setting my things on my desk, I blink at her without saying a word.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
“Yes, I just have a headache.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Do you want some Tylenol?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Well, I’m sneaking back over to the WB this morning. Want to come?”
“No, thank you. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Okay, I’ll be back shortly. I really think I should have held out for a job in Hollywood. I just love movie sets and movie stars,” she says with a wave of her hand.
I furrow my brows wondering for the first time why she took this job and if she’s planning on sticking around.
***
I spend the morning keeping busy with small easy tasks that, once complete, give me a sense of accomplishment. My hand keeps flitting to my neck—to the scarf he bought for me and the spot it covers that he marked as his own. I just can’t stop thinking about him. When I grab the newspaper, my messages fall out. I quickly look through them, stopping on the one from Madeline Grayson. It says, “She’d like to talk to you if you could give her a call.”
Without even thinking, I reach for the receiver and dial the number on the message slip.
“Oh, that was so much fun,” Kay says, slamming her purse on her desk as she enters the office.
I set my phone back in its cradle and calmly ask, “Did she get the part?”
With a smile she says, “Well, I don’t know for certain, but I’d say that director would be crazy not to cast her.”
Resentment runs through me, but it’s not her fault. I know I should have told her yesterday that I knew Jagger. Well know isn’t even the right word, that I was dating him—dated him? That I love him—loved him? I don’t know why I didn’t tell her anything.
Falling into her chair, she sighs. “Even auditioning with someone she didn’t know, she was so believable. It’s too bad her ex-boyfriend wasn’t there for the final casting. They would have been amazing both on and off screen. Oh, well.” She shrugs. “True love comes and true love goes. Isn’t that what they say?”
“I think so.” I swallow the bile down.
“Back to work,” she smiles.
My head is spinning. Why didn’t Jagger go to that audition? What does Madeline want? I push away from my desk and stand up. “Kay, I’m running out. If Damon asks where I am tell him I had some things to take care of out of the office.”
“He’s off somewhere with Ivy so don’t worry about him,” she says with a scowl.
I swear I hear her mutter “asshole” under her breath and wonder why she has a sudden dislike for him, but then again maybe she finally realized what he’s like. I shrug the thought off. “Call me if anything pressing comes up.”
She chews the tip of her pencil. “Of course. And, Aerie, if I were you I’d go home and get some rest. You really do look flushed.”
***
I decide to go see Madeleine in person, and drive up to her house at lightning speed, entering the neighborhood where my uncle used to live. Memories flood my mind of the times we spent together and again the tears that won’t stop flowing down my cheeks.
Drying my face, I grab my purse and walk up the driveway. I had heard Madeline and her husband divorced a few years ago and I also know that Levi hit the road earlier this year with his band. He’s running small circuits—clubs mostly, but doing okay from what I’ve heard.
My heart thumps uncontrollably as I ring the bell. The door swings open and there she stands. She looks as beautiful as she always did.
“Mrs. Grayson,” I smile.
Her eyes widen as soon as recognition crosses her face. “Aerie, oh, Aerie, my dear. I’m so glad you decided to stop by. Come in.”
I step inside and a shiver runs through me when I see the same couch I so easily gave myself up on.
“How are you, Mrs. Grayson?”
“Aerie, please call me Madeline.”
I nod.
“Would you care for some coffee or tea?” she asks.
“Tea, please.”
We make small talk while she prepares a pot of tea and then we sit outside on the deck. The cool breeze sweeps over us and I let it wrap itself around me, breathing life into any otherwise lifeless day. I chew my thumbnail, not sure of where to start.
Pouring the hot water into a small white porcelain cup, she says, “I know you’ve been contacted about the script changes. Brett told me he was sending them on to you.”
“Yes. I have. Is it true?”
She takes a shaky breath. “Yes it is. I loved your uncle very much and we would have been together if it weren’t for the fact that he was afraid of his mental health.”
I select a teabag from the tray in front of me. “Madeline, I’d love to hear about your relationship with him, if you don’t mind sharing.”
Sipping our tea as the ocean dances before us, we sit for hours and she tells me how she fell in love with my uncle the first time she met him. How she and her husband, although married on paper, lived separate lives. How she wanted to divorce him and be with my uncle, but my uncle forbade her from doing that. She told me it wasn’t until he was diagnosed with cancer that he told her why. She had always thought he loved being a bachelor, the freedom to go wherever he wanted and be with whomever he wanted, but that wasn’t it at all. He was afraid his depression would take a turn, like his mother’s had, and that she’d be stuck taking care of him.
Another wave of tears escaped me and I gave up trying to stop them. I was able to see my uncle through her eyes as a man who loved a woman he was afraid to have. A man who distanced himself from her out of fear of what he might become. Her words tore at me—I had done everything my whole life to avoid ending up like my grandmother and now it was those very same decisions that were sending me down that same path.
When Madeline excused herself to refill the teapot, I quickly pull out my phone and type a text to Jagger.
I really need to talk to you. Tell me where I can meet you.
I wait for a response, since he usually answers immediately. But there is none.
“Here we go,” Madeline says, setting the silver tray down.
We talk a little while longer as I listen for the text that never comes. She tells me why she and my uncle never told me about their affair. She explains that my uncle didn’t want me to think badly of him for being involved with a married woman and he was afraid that my parents might not let me spend my summers with him if they knew.
She also tells me how hard it was for her when he died—how she’d lost her best friend and wanted so much to talk to me. But she promised my uncle she wouldn’t. She finally divorced her husband and has refused to move because she feels close to my uncle here.
“The only reason I called you today is because I knew the biographers over at Warner Bros. were writing me into their movie. They promised to change my name and alter the details if I’d share the story with them.”
I look at her stunned. “Did you?”
“Fuck, no. I told them to go f**k themselves.”
My tears turn into laughter—she says f**k like my uncle used to. I grab her hand. “Madeline, I think you should share your story. It’s a true love story, not the one they’re fabricating and I’d be proud for the world to see it.”
With both of us sobbing, she nods her head and agrees.
Shortly after the sun set my phone beeped. I stole a glance. A text from Dahlia—I’d read it later. I give Madeline my full attention as she tells even more stories about my uncle. But when her voice starts to get shaky, I know we are both emotionally drained. As I stand to leave, she pulls me to her and hugs me tightly. “You’re a beautiful woman, Aerie. Your uncle would be so proud.”
“Thank you,” I manage, staring out into the ocean I haven’t swum in since that last summer.
She studies me. “Aerie, this isn’t my business, but I want you to know that after your uncle died, Levi had a tough time as well. He grew up with your uncle. And he told me what happened between the two of you.”
My pulse pounds as embarrassment rushes to my cheeks.
“I’m only telling you this because I know he feels so much regret for having hurt your feelings. He told me he told you he used you. Aerie, I didn’t ask for details. But it wasn’t true. There are some things a mother doesn’t want to know, but he did tell me what he said to you. Your uncle helped him every chance he could, but Levi wanted to make it on his own. He loved it when your uncle would sing his praises, but would never take his help. I urged him to often; after all, everyone needs a helping hand, but Levi was stubborn . . .”
I stop listening as I try to remember that summer. How much he worked and how odd I thought it was that my uncle could only help him get gigs at small functions. It all made sense now and, not that it should matter anymore, but knowing that he refused my uncle’s help does matter.
After spending the day with Madeline, I drive away from the south bluff feeling a sense of peace I’ve never felt before. I think it comes from knowing my uncle was happy—that he had found true love. His version may not have been like in the movies, but it was the way he chose to live his life and I can accept that.
It’s dark as I drive down US 1. I glance over at the ocean and up to study the stars, shining like little diamonds. Suddenly, I remember my grandmother reading me a book and after closing it glancing up at the sky, “See those shining lights?” she asked. “Whenever you’re sad, wear something that sparkles and think of the stars and the sadness will be gone.” My hand moves to clutch the colored glass necklace that hangs around my neck, one of hers, and I suddenly understand why she had such a vast collection—she was looking for happiness with them.