Page 93 of Take 2
“You must be starving.” Mom pulls me from Dad to give me a hug, then shoves me into a chair. A massive cinnamon roll is placed in front of me, along with a steaming café con leche in a CalArts mug.
“Thanks.” I cut into the dessert masquerading as breakfast. “Sorry I ghosted you last night.”
“It was a long day of traveling,” Mom says.
“Yeah. You didn’t have to do my laundry, by the way.” Shit, I don’t remember if I tucked my vibrator away with my toiletries or if it was just thrown in with my clothes.
“Isn’t that why you packed dirty clothes?” She arches an eyebrow at me in accusation.
“No. I’m a big girl now. I don’t bring my laundry over for you to do. It was because I wasn’t home. I stopped here on my way back from another trip.”
“Oh,” Dad says, “where were you?”
“France.” To groan out that I was in France is so absurd. I think Preston ruined the whole country for me.
“So sorry for you.” Mom reminds me of where I got my sarcasm. “I didn’t know you were going to France.”
“Monaco mostly. Anyway, I didn’t either. It was last minute.”
“Are you making a movie out there?” Dad asks.
I take a huge bite to buy time to formulate an answer. No, but also,yeah a little.My goddamn ex-husband was making a mini-movie of us stupidly pretending we could get back together. What kind ofTruman ShowmeetsBowfingercrap was that? I swallow down the gooey perfection and say, “No, I was hanging out on another film’s shoot. Trying to work-flirt with a director who might be interested in one of my screenplays.”
“Flirting with a director?”
“No, Dad. Luring him to my work, not me. Anyway, he’s gay.”
He nods and directs his attention to his newspaper. He’s mostly given up on understanding my career.
“Well, that’s exciting.” Mom sits on my other side with an omelet and toast. “And I’m glad you came to visit on your way back. How long will you be here?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t supposed to be back in LA until Sunday anyway, so probably at least until then.” Though I’m sure Ashleigh would be willing to watch the cat for me a little longer if I asked. James is probably my bigger responsibility.
“We’re happy to have you here as long as you want,” Dad says.
“Thanks.” I sip my coffee and wonder if it’s a new sugar substitute or a different kind of milk Mom is using now. “What do you two have going on today?”
“I’m free to do whatever you want,” Mom says.
“Great.” Although I can’t imagine anything Iwantto do besides avoid the world.
“I have to get to the office soon.” Dad puts down his paper as if my question has reminded him of that.
“Hope traffic isn’t too bad on the stairs.”
“At least I have to climb a flight of stairs to get to my home office.”
“I was just working in France!”
He stands and bops me on the head with the newspaper. “Yes, I know. You’re always on the move. It’s impossible to keep you still.”
It sounds like I’m living the dream, and I am, but the price for it is hefty.
What if there was someone who understood?
Why did Ryan have to transform to be someone who understands, though?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
