Page 13 of The Love We Make

“I hear you,” I say. “To the outside world, it must look as though I’m the luckiest woman alive. I get to do what I love and am paid an obscene amount of money to do so. But there’s a flip side to everything. The side people prefer to look away from.”

“Fame,” Michelle says matter-of-factly. “I’ve seen it destroy good people time and time again.” She finds my gaze. “It takes a lot to survive your level of fame, Nora. Most people don’t. I have a lot of respect for that—for you.”

“Wow.” It’s rare that someone expresses the very thing I’ve found so hard to express—that I’ve had to squash because of expectations and conditioning—for such a long time, just like that. As if it’s a given. “Thank you for saying that.”

“For telling the truth? You never have to thank me for that.”

CHAPTER6

MIMI

I’ve served Nora my son’s favorite dish of oven-baked salmon and asparagus. Although she said earlier it was delicious, she eats with the restraint of someone’s who’s been told off about her food choices too many times. A bit like Jen does sometimes, despite my best efforts.

Nora doesn’t hold back when it comes to wine, however. She’s downed most of the Meursault, making it a good time to ask her a more personal question. There’s a lot of speculation on celebrity gossip websites, but as far as the outside world is concerned, Nora Levine has been single most of her life.

“That picture over there.” I point to a frame boasting a snap of my three girls. “The middle one. The tall one with the short hair. That’s Jennifer. My oldest, although only by thirty minutes.” My lips curl into an inadvertent smile every time I mention the twins. “She’s what she likes to call ‘self-partnered.’” Not everyone in the family managed to keep a straight face when Jennifer used that particular term to tell us not to expect her to introduce a romantic partner any time soon. That she’s perfectly happy on her own, so happy in fact, that she can’t imagine ever sharing her life with anyone else—that would only be giving in to the patriarchal and, when you really think about it, nonsensical notion that any person can only ever be completed by another person.

“You mean single?” There’s not a hint of sarcasm in Nora’s tone. I suppress my glee at her straightforwardness.

“Yeah. Single. But I’m not allowed to call her single because of how ‘less-than’ it makes her sound according to society’s ridiculous standards.”

“Take it from someone whose had half the world obsessed with her relationship status for a long time: being single is totally underrated. I daresay it’s the single—no pun intended—most underrated state of being. The way people carry on trying to find a partner has always astounded me. So yeah, I’m Team Jennifer all the way. No disrespect to your other kids, but so far, she sounds like the smartest one to me.”

“She sure would love to hear you say that. Can I record this, please?” I joke. “I’d be mother of the year to at least one of my kids for the rest of my life, although the other three wouldn’t be able to cope.” Imagine the mayhem at our next family meal.

Nora puts her fork down. She only finished half of her plate. But I guess she did pretty much answer my question with what she just said.

“Tell me more about your kids,” she says.

This might be Nora’s way of dodging a question that she has been asked too many times in her life, but like most mothers, you don’t have to ask me twice.

“Jennifer and Heather are twins. They’re almost forty.” I refuse to be bashful about my age. Why would I be? “Jennifer’s in tech. Heather’s a stay-at-home mom. She has two young boys. Lauren’s thirty-five and co-owns Silk on Rodeo Drive. She and her husband, Gus, have a one-year-old daughter, Lily. And you’ve met Austin. I’m sure you’ve heard many more sordid details about his date with Juan than I have.”

Nora purses her lips and nods. “Quite a few things no mother should ever hear about her child.” She holds up her hand. “Just kidding. Juan was surprisingly restrained when describing their date. Maybe because you’re my boss.”

“Just for the record, I don’t see myself as your boss.”

“Oh,” is all she says—as though that’s so hard to believe.

“Jo runs the show. She’s the boss,” I add.

“But you’reherboss.”

“Technically, I guess I am, but things don’t really work that way.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“What do you mean?”

“The number of times I’ve had to do reshoots because some studio suit believed a scene didn’t test well with a sample audience…”

“Well, yes, of course. These things happen.”

“But, anyway, you’re not like that.” Nora pins her gaze on me.

“I can be if I have to. There’s nothing wrong with protecting your company’s investment. Since the earliest days of commercializing art, there's always been friction between the creative and the business side. But I truly believe the best executives can create the perfect balance required to let everyone thrive.”

“Sure. TV’s a money game, just like any other business. That’s never going to change. Thank god a lot of other things have changed.”

---