Page 31 of When Stars Fall

When I returned to acting, the roles were smaller and in independent films. The projects had to be short. Once Haven started school, and Nikki agreed to keep her routine, I took bigger jobs, longer shoots, but never the big budget project to skyrocket me into the megafamous stratosphere again.

To the outside world, we were a close family. Keep a low enough profile and no one cares enough to come looking.

Haven is in the backseat of Nikki’s car as I drive her to school. I haven’t texted Wyatt yet, and he’s being surprisingly patient. At one time, he’d have emailed, sent a text message, and called by now. He likes to know where he stands.

“I’m so glad you’re driving me today.” Haven stares out the window.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s been forever since you drove me.”

A pang of guilt strikes my heart. “You enjoy spending time with Aunt Nikki, though, right?”

“Yes, Mom.” She uses that voice only a child can perfect, as though I’m the one being ridiculous. “What are you doing today? Interview? Phone call? Reading scripts?” Haven pauses and meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Seeing my dad?”

Her face is alight with mischief, but the emphasis on the last word is joyous. After hearing about him, she can label him hers. The novelty of having him visit might never wear off.

“Yes, I’m seeing Wyatt today for a bit.” I turn into the school parking lot and pull up to the kiss-and-go curb.

She undoes her seatbelt. “I want to see him too.”

I take a breath, not wanting to deny her. She doesn’t understand the risk. “We’ll see how today goes, okay?”

I’m not even sure what I’m going to do with Wyatt today. If he sees Haven’s room, he’ll be able to put the pieces together. The house is sparsely decorated except for our bedrooms, which are both filled with a flood of photos. It’ll be obvious she isn’t my niece. Maybe I could keep the doors to that part of the house closed.

I climb out of the car to give her a quick kiss and hug. She greets her friends as she enters the school. Watching her, I’m sure I’ve done the right thing in shielding her. She’s happy, she’s healthy, and she hasn’t had to suffer most of the chaos of my lifestyle.

That chaos is waiting for me in his hotel room, and I don’t know if Nikki is right and I should keep him away. When I left him, I felt like I had no choice, but I’m faced with the reality of that decision now.

I went back once to try to tell him about Haven, and when he was too out of it to understand what I was saying, I left, and I sealed the door to him behind me. Addict Wyatt wasn’t an option. I couldn’t build a family or any kind of life with him as he was.

Part of me, despite what I implied to Haven over the years, never expected him to be well enough to re-enter our lives. Now that he is, I’m paralyzed with indecision. At what point is it safe to trust him, if ever?

Chapter Thirteen

Ellie

Eleven years ago

My favorite time with Wyatt is any day when we’re not rushing out of the house to meet a manager, to take a meeting about an upcoming production, to discuss clothing for scheduled appearances, or to catch a flight to our next movie set.

Tomorrow I leave for a gymnastics movie I’m starring in that’s shooting in Vancouver, Canada, and Wyatt begins production mid-week on a thriller filming at Alcatraz. But today we get to pretend we’re normal people. A lazy morning in bed, followed by a trip to the gym, a table read for Wyatt at the studio, and then Sunday dinner. A rarity, lately.

Wyatt’s phone vibrates on the bedside table, and he rolls over to grab it. He squints at the screen before writing back.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“Tommy. Reminding me I have an interview withFacesmagazine tomorrow in Malibu forRight of Passage.”

“What do you think they’re going to ask you about?” Sometimes we play a game where we list the most ridiculous interview questions we’ve ever received.

He sets down his phone and stretches his arm across my middle, tugging me close to him. “Probably bring up my relationship with my parents. Ties into the movie, and everyone’s always looking for the emancipation details.”

His emancipation and his family dynamics are murky waters to wade into when he hasn’t self-medicated. Any time I try to gently prod, he usually shuts me down. Tells me they aren’t memories worth reliving.

“Are you going to discuss it?”

“It’s not a great story.” He traces the curve of my hip. “My hairdresser-to-the-stars mother and my boom-operator father had kids as a way to stop working and get high all the time. From the time I was a baby, I was in commercials. Same with Anna. We were a means to an end. Not kids to raise.”

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