“It never even occurred to you to ask for my opinion, did it?” she continued. “I wrote ‘Eclipse,’ and yet, let me guess, you asked all the business-minded people—no, men—in your life, but not the one person whose feelings really mattered. And I’ll bet you didn’t ask your mom either, did you? The one person who was in more meetings than anyone else for you in your career, and you didn’t include her. You’re not the feminist icon you think you are. You’re controlled by the patriarchy just like the rest of them.”
“And you’re not?”
Trinity snorted. “Bitch, I’ve been on my own for five fucking years. I don’t even have anyone to go to for advice.”
“You have a bigger entourage than anyone I know!”
“So that I can focus on the things that matter and don’t have to worry about stupid things like schedules. That’s a business decision, in case you weren’t sure what one looked like.”
“I’ve had people to help me too!”
“Yeah, your parents,” she scoffed.
“How is that any different? At least mine give a shit. Is that why you were such a bitch about the birth parents thing? Did it strike a chord with you? Remind you of how shitty your own parents are?”
“Don’t even go there,” she said.
“Why not? You left me at a fucking gas station!”
“And I apologized for that!”
“Yeah, but did you mean it? A real friend would’ve sucked it up and driven me home anyway, not left me standing there like an idiot!”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re not friends anymore, isn’t it?”
I stared at her, dumbstruck. Before I could reply, she turned and walked off, leaving me gawking behind her.
Suppressing tears so that no one on set saw me cry, I ran in the direction of the dressing rooms, hoping to find Liam. Trinity had gone in the direction of hair and makeup, so at least I was safe from her for now.
When I reached the door with his name on, I banged on it. “All right, all right,” he said. “What’s the big deal?”
He saw me and froze. “So things didn’t end well with you and Trinity, then?”
I pushed him inside and fell into his arms, immediately starting to cry. “Tri—Trinity hates me.”
“For the song thing?”
I nodded, still sobbing into his shirt. His computer, which was in the far corner, made a pinging noise. I looked up. He was in the middle of something on his game.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your game thing.”
“It’s fine,” he said, guiding me onto the sofa.
“D—do you think she’ll forgive me?” I asked as he handed me a tissue from the box on the coffee table. I asked him, but I knew the answer. And it wasn’t one that I wanted to hear.
“For whatever reason, that song meant a lot to her. She didn’t even want to take it to the label, so performing it for you, then the label giving it to you…it’s hurt her pretty bad.”
“But why? It’s just a song!”
“Not to her it isn’t. I think that song was some sort of therapy for her. It’s too personal. I don’t know what the lyrics are about, but that song means more to her than some of the others. Whatever its sentimental value is, it feels like a betrayal to her.”
I blew my nose into the tissue. The sound echoed through the small dressing room.
“Betrayal? You want to talk about betrayal? She left me at a gas station after my birth mother rejected me! And she complained about my crying because of what happened!”
“So, what? The song is revenge?”
“No! Of course not!” I’d tried the revenge thing and it’d backfired. The song was just business. Mostly. Maybe I was still a little bitter.
Liam put his hand on my back. “I’m sorry.”
“But I brought this on myself, didn’t I?”
“A little.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Only a little?”
“She didn’t have to act the way she did. But you know what she’s like. She loves to hold grudges.”
I sighed. “But why? What purpose does it serve? What difference does it make?”
“Beats me. I guess when you’ve been hurt a lot, you put up walls to stop it from happening again. And while your betrayal may seem small to most people, to her, the small betrayals lead to bigger ones. She’s cutting her losses while it’s sort of easier.”
“Can we stop using the word ‘betrayal’ please? It isn’t helping.”
“Sorry,” he said. “But, I mean, after everything she’s been through…”
“Yeah, I understand. But how do I get her to forgive me?”
“Have you ever known Trinity to forgive anyone?”
No, I hadn’t. And I doubted I’d be the first.
*
Ever since Jack had suggested I see a therapist, I’d been toying with the idea. I’d done a few searches but hadn’t chosen one yet. There was one that stood out, though, and after the argument with Trinity, I needed to talk to someone more than ever. It had left me feeling like my emotions had been through a boxing match with Mike Tyson and I couldn’t take much more.
The therapist I found was called Dr Kaur. Her website said she’d been working with celebrities for years. It was hard to prove a claim like that when things had to be kept anonymous. Thankfully she’d had a cancelation which meant that she could see me in a couple of days. I’d expected it to take weeks. That had caught me off guard. I wouldn’t be as emotionally prepared for our appointment, but was that a bad thing?
When I entered her office, I was greeted by a receptionist who handed me some paperwork to fill in. It asked asinine questions about my mood levels and how things made me anxious and if I’d contemplated suicide. Why did I have to answer that? Couldn’t I just sit down and talk to someone about everything that had happened?
“Miss Gardener?” said a voice.
I looked up to see a kindly woman standing in the doorway. I followed her into her office, which was larger than I’d expected. There were two glasses of water on the table along with a box of tissues. I placed the clipboard with the stupid questions next to them.
Dr Kaur sat down in the armchair in front of the coffee table and picked up the clipboard. I sat on the sofa opposite her, twiddling my thumbs while she read it. It made me feel self-conscious. What if she was secretly judging me?
“I really don’t feel those forms are helpful, you know,” I said. “They’re very black and white.”
Dr Kaur placed the clipboard on her lap and met my eye. “Yes. They help us to measure your progress, but I wouldn’t worry too much about them.” She put the clipboard to the side and crossed her legs. “So tell me, what brought you here?”
What had brought me there? Where was I even supposed to begin?
“How much do you know about me?” I asked her.
“What would you like me to know? I’m not here to make assumptions based on anything that the press prints or the public says. I’m here to listen to you.”
Well, that was refreshing. There weren’t many people out there that wanted to listen to me. It stumped me, actually. I didn’t know what to say to her.
“My parents are getting divorced,” I said, deciding that was a good starting place since it’d been the trigger for everything else. “And while I was helping my mom to clean out her old closet, I found my adoption papers.”
“I see,” she said.
That was it? Wow. She really was there to listen.
I continued to explain the events of the last few months. Dr Kaur tried her best to keep me on track, but it got to the point where I was too emotional to talk. Picturing my birth mother’s face while I recounted my meeting with her broke me. I bawled and bawled, causing my mascara to run so much it blended into my lipstick. Note to self: get a better mascara.
“I’m sorry to do this, but our time is up,” said Dr Kaur.
“Oh,” I said. I felt like I’d barely told her anything.
“Let’s schedule
our next appointment and we can continue this discussion then.”
So we set up our second appointment. Unfortunately it wasn’t for another couple of weeks. But at least it was something. In a weird way, it gave me something to look forward to. I finally had someone who’d listen without judgment or trying to tell me what to do. I was hoping it would help me work out my issues too, but it was too early to say.
38
Tate
I forgive your problems
Because honey I’ve got them too.
— “You/Me,” Tate Gardener
Since Jack and I were official again, my parents wanted to go out for a meal with us. I hadn’t wanted to as it just felt like another way to add pressure to the relationship, but they insisted, so I acquiesced.
Except that with them separated, they couldn’t agree on who should be the first one to get the honors. Their solution was for the four of us to go together. Which wouldn’t be awkward at all.
Daddy managed to get us a last-minute reservation somewhere, so we arranged to meet there at seven. Jack came to my place first. He looked sharper than usual; he had on a plaid shirt and black skinny slacks.
“Is my outfit OK?” he asked when he walked in.
“You look great,” I said, kissing him. He snaked his arm around my waist and turned my welcome peck into a fiery kiss. I melted into him, my arms wrapped around his neck. Why couldn’t we stay there and keep going?
“I need to finish getting ready,” I said, pulling away. I still hadn’t decided what to wear, so I was walking around in a towel. No wonder Jack had greeted me like that.
“Are you sure? I mean, that towel…”
“We’ll finish it later,” I said.
“Promise?”
I grabbed his hand and guided him into my bedroom, where I had several options laid out on my bed. Moxie was in her bed in the corner, half-asleep. When she saw Jack, she hopped out of it and ran over to him. He picked her up and hugged her.
“Which outfit?” I asked.
He lowered an eyebrow. “You’re asking me for fashion advice?”
“No, I’m asking you for advice on one outfit. I’m desperate here.”
“Since when do you panic about outfits?”
“Since me being in a room with my recently separated parents never ends well and the press is hungry for me to mess up again,” I said.
Jack put his hand on my shoulder. “We won’t let that happen.” He studied the outfits on the bed. “What about the purple dress? Do you have shoes to go with it?”
“Shoe ideas are on the floor,” I said, pointing to a row of shoes I’d assembled neatly that he obviously hadn’t noticed.
“Purple dress, gold shoes. What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m not sure about the combination of purple and gold. Is it too over the top?”
“Why would it be? You said we were going somewhere over the top.”
“Was that how I described it?” I asked.
“Yeah. We’re also gonna be late if we don’t get a move on.”
I stamped my foot. “Why is this so hard!”
“What about the white Grecian-style dress with the gold shoes and a chunky gold necklace?”
I took a step back. I’d put the Grecian-style dress with black shoes, thinking the gold would make it look too much like I was playing dress up, but it actually kind of worked. “Yes!” I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him, making Moxie jump. She squeaked. Jack laughed, rubbing the top of Moxie’s head. I kissed her, then went to get changed.
Five minutes later, we were ready to go. We said goodbye to Moxie, then hopped in a taxi to the restaurant.
My mom was already at the bar, nursing a gin and tonic. We walked over and were barely standing a foot in front of her before she even bothered to look up.
“Hi, honey,” she said, pulling me into a hug and air kissing my cheeks.
“Hey Mom,” I said, hugging her. While things had been better between us since the holidays, we still weren’t as close as we’d been a year ago. It looked like that was weighing on her, but she didn’t want us to know that.
“Mom, you remember Jack,” I said, gesturing to him standing behind me. His hands were in his pockets and his head was bowed. It was like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. But then, we were in a busy restaurant and he was surrounded by people. He didn’t like crowds. Was the main reason he drank to deal with his social anxiety? Did he even know he had social anxiety?
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Gardener,” he said, pulling a hand from his pocket and shaking one of hers. I expected Mom to correct him about her name but she didn’t. Did that mean she was going to keep the Gardener surname when she divorced?
She clasped his hands in hers and smiled warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you outside of work, Jack.”
He smiled.
“I wonder where your father is,” said Mom, frowning.
“Filming probably ran over or something,” I said.
She made a grumbling noise but didn’t comment any further. A few minutes later, the maître d’ showed us to our table. It was in a quiet corner, away from the noise of the restaurant and the crowds of people. I felt Jack relax beside me. I reached over and squeezed his knee. He put his hand on top of mine and stroked the side of it. His touch soothed nerves in me I hadn’t even known were there, but the thought of Jack meeting my parents in a more formal setting put me on edge. They knew him as an alcoholic and a fuckup, especially my mom. Seeing him in a second-chance romance with their only daughter would’ve made anyone nervous.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Dad, joining us before we’d really started talking about anything in particular. He kissed me on the cheek, gave my mom a cursory nod, then shook Jack’s hand. “There were some issues on the New Dawn set,” he said as he sat down opposite me.
“Is everything OK?” I said, immediately worrying about Liam and Trinity. Had something happened to one of them?
“Trinity caused a scene.”
I frowned. “Is it the drugs again?”
My dad nodded.
Was that why she’d overreacted to the song thing so badly? Was it the drugs talking and not really her? Did that mean our friendship still had a chance?
I straightened up, feeling my mood lighten.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Jack mumbled into my ear. How had he known what I was thinking? “That doesn’t mean she couldn’t still make a decision.”
My shoulders slumped. Way to kill my optimism.
“Sorry, babe,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Sometimes you have to acknowledge when a friendship is over.”
“Are we talking about me or you now?” I said.
“Mostly you,” he said. “A little of me.”
The waiter arrived to take the orders for our appetizers and main courses. I’d barely had chance to study the menu, so I just went for the first vegan things on there that I could find.
Once the waiter had gone, my mom continued: “You couldn’t even arrive on time, yet you insisted that this was important to you. What was that about how important family is to you?”
“It was one meeting and I lost track of time. It’s happened to you before too,” said Dad.
“One meeting?” said Mom with a scoff. “This week, maybe.”
“How many family gatherings have I been late to?”
The people sitting nearby were starting to stare. I leaned into my parents. “Er, sorry to interrupt, but you might want to save this for somewhere private.”
My parents looked around. The people who had started to watch averted their gazes.
“Of course, sorry,” said Dad.
“Yes. Sorry,” said Mom. I got the feeling she didn’t mean it and had a lot more pent-up anger aimed at my dad than I’d noticed in the past. How long had that been going on for?
Jack let out a big yawn. “Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping so well.”
“How come?” I said.
“Just insom
nia, you know?” he said. “Just got to soldier through it.”
I rubbed his arm. I hated the idea of him having to soldier through his pain and fatigue, but what other option was there?
“Have you heard any more from your lawyer about the divorce papers?” said Mom.
“Mom!” I snapped. “You were the one who wanted a nice family meal. Can you stop trying to ruin it, please?”
“I was asking a civil question,” she replied.
Could she even hear herself?
“I’ll chase them up in the morning,” said Dad. “Tate’s right. This isn’t the place to talk about the divorce.”
Mom pouted like a scolded child. And she wondered why I didn’t have the patience to deal with her sometimes.
Our appetizers arrived, offering a reprieve from the conversation. No one talked while we ate. I’d never been more thankful to be sitting around a table with people not talking.
Until Jack fell forward and his face went into his soup.
39
Jack
Even when I feel like a failure
You’re my inhaler
Breathing love back into me
When I have none left to give.
— “Gatsby,” Jack Cuoco
“Jack! Jack! Wake up!”
“Huh? What?” I lifted my head and looked around. What the hell had just happened? Where even was I?
Oh. Tate’s parents were in front of me. And they were looking at me funny. I turned to face Tate. She giggled. Using her napkin, she wiped at my face.
“What happened?” I said.
“You passed out into your food,” said Victor, sounding unimpressed. Always how you want your girlfriend’s parents to feel about you.
“Oh. Sorry,” I said, wanting the ground to swallow me whole. Who passes out into their food when out with anyone, let alone someone they’re trying to impress?
Hollywood Parents Page 23
