Page 24 of Unspoken Tides

“I got held up on set,” Hilary lied.

“I figured it was something like that. I couldn’t tell the other girls, obviously. But they were really worried about you.”

Hilary groaned.

“It’s just not like you to miss so many Salt Sisters’ hangouts,” Stella said, her voice softening. “We’re the Salt Sisters because of you, you know.”

“I do. I know.” Hilary braced herself.

“A few of us were thinking about brunch tomorrow,” Stella said. “Are you available?”

Hilary was quiet, remembering Max’s lips upon hers as the stars sparkled overhead. That was the kind of thing the Salt Sisters would love to hear about. But it terrified her to speak it aloud.

“You don’t have an excuse,” Stella said. “It’s Sunday. You’re off work!”

Hilary tried to laugh. She couldn’t avoid them forever. They were her family. “Okay. Sure. I can make it.”

“Perfect. We’re going to try out Tucker’s downtown,” Stella said. “Bring your appetite.”

“I always do,” Hilary said, remembering how she’d scarfed down Max’s snacks last night, eating as passionately and as freely as any teenager. She remembered doing the same so long ago with Rodrick, feasting on takeout on their California king-size bed as films blazed on their screen overhead. In their minds, they’d been king and queen of Los Angeles. Untouchable. Happier than anyone else.

Life was always about chasing the highs of being young, she thought.

“I can’t wait,” Hilary lied.

The following morning, Hilary drove to Tucker’s Brunch Bar for breakfast with the girls. She’d paid extra-close attention to her outfit, wearing a pair of high-waisted jeans, a white blouse, golden earrings, and a side bag. She hoped the outfit would distract the Salt Sisters from her strange mood.

For a little while, it worked. Nora gushed about Hilary’s outfit, saying, “You always look like a model, Hil.”

“I don’t think they’re offering gigs for fifty-five-year-old models,” Hilary said.

“That’s all I want to see,” Robby said. “I don’t want to buy jeans worn by twenty-five-year-olds anymore.”

“Marketing departments need to wake up,” Katrina agreed. “I’d throw my money around if there were more models who looked like me.”

Hilary couldn’t stop herself before she said, “My mother always said that once you turned forty-five, the film industry locked you up and threw away the key.”

It was rare that Hilary brought up her mother. The other Salt Sisters exchanged worried glances, sensing the vitriol behind Hilary’s words.

“Well, I think things have changed a bit over the years,” Stella said. “Haven’t they?”

Hilary remembered the two lead actresses in the current film, Candace and Stacy. Just last week, she’d overheard Candace telling Stacy about her favorite Botox specialist back in Los Angeles, plus where to get the best rates for nose jobs. Things hadn’t changed that much, if at all. But she kept that to herself.

They sat down for breakfast, where Hilary pored over the menu quietly and listened to her best friends discuss what to order and what they could share. When her matcha latte came, she closed her eyes as she filled her mouth with warmth. It seemed that Max was never far from her mind’s eye. There he was on her eyelids, smiling at her in the moonlight.

“What are you smiling about?” Robby asked.

Hilary opened her eyes. She’d been caught. “I was just thinking about a book I was reading.”

“What book?” Katrina asked.

Hilary scrambled to remember what she’d read recently. “The new Ann Patchett. Tom Lake. It’s extraordinary.” She swallowed. “It’s about a family who lives on a cherry farm in northern Michigan. The mother tells her three daughters the story of how she became an actress and how that life fell apart for her.”

It was true that the entire time she’d read the book, she’d wondered what her mother’s life would have been like if she’d never become an actress. If she had raised Hilary in Sweden instead and settled for something beautiful and simple, like a cherry farm.

It had broken her heart.

“It sounds simple,” Hilary said. “It’s hard to sell a book that simple.”

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