by Melissa Hill
“Well, we’re not having much of a Christmas this year, so I can certainly bring our house decorations. I have string lights, ornaments trees of all shapes and sizes, tinsel, Santas—table decorations, you name it, I probably have it.”
“Great. I think that would be lovely and I will leave it up to your taste to decorate. I should be mostly all moved-out by the twenty-first …” Heidi noticed the slight break in her voice as she said this and her heart ached for the woman, “so you will have all day on the eve before the party to put your touches. Would that work for you?”
Heidi was speechless. Ella had given her back some of her dignity and pride. She was happy to help for as long as she would let her. “Given the size of the room, I say we limit the music to just a keyboard and a singer. I hear that you asked Ruth to sing?”
“I think that would be an excellent idea. A band would be too loud and imposing here.” Ella lit up at the thought of a more intimate affair, just as her husband and father-in-law had intended all those years ago.
The two continued to go through their mental to-do lists. Ella had taken out a notepad to make notes about their decisions as the two plotted and chatted about everything from keeping Ita Mellon away from the mulled wine to how they could best space out the guests’ arrival so it wouldn’t get too crowded.
“What about the Santa? You said we were going to organise a Santa to drop in at the end of the night.” Ella’s face dropped a bit, but Heidi could not sense why. Was this another sore spot?
“Well, I had a friend who was going to play Santa, but I am not sure if he is up to it anymore.”
“Who is it? I can check with him myself if you would like.”
“No, no don’t worry about that. I will talk to him. If not, there just won’t be a Santa at the party, but that’s okay.” Ella’s voice was tinged with different kind of regret that Heidi couldn’t quite understand. But she resisted prying more. The old Heidi would demand to know why this person would be so flaky about such a huge responsibility. The new Heidi wanted to respect Ella’s personal life as she had respected her own.
With that, the two women stood, finished with their party planning. They both looked at each other for several seconds until Heidi made the move. She stepped closer to Ella and placed her arms around her in a hug. Warmth radiated off the older woman and onto Heidi. Eventually, Ella reciprocated, holding her gently with the arm not holding on to the cane.
“Thank you, Ella,” Heidi said, her voice trembling. She felt herself move into a hug with Ella, almost as if her body had a mind of its own. “Thank you for everything. I’m so sorry for what has happened. Paul was stupid and neither of us ever imagined …”
“Forget it, please,” Ella interjected quickly, obviously not wanting to talk about it.
Taking her cue, Heidi turned to leave. She began to put up her hood, but then stopped. Instead, as she reached the door back to the café, she took a deep breath, shook out her limbs, and tipped her chin towards the sky.
She was ready to face whatever was out there for the first time in days. She was ready to face the music once and for all. And Heidi realised something else.
She would ensure that Ella’s Christmas party would be the best celebration the village had ever seen.
14
“C harlie, can you bring down my hairbrush with you? I forgot to pack it in my carry-on.” Ruth was panicking about her flight to LA. After hundreds of flights, one would think she would be used to travelling by now, but she still felt the same jitters as she did on her first plane ride out of Dublin, decades ago. She still felt as though she would forget something important or neglect to do something she should have before she boarded. Travelling alone was not for Ruth.
In the past, she would be with an assistant, her agent, or one of the crew from her TV show. She loved having someone to chat with, help her put her bags in the overhead storage units, and lament about the awful airline service. But today, she was flying solo.
Scarlett would stay behind with Charlie for the first time. He seemed just as nervous as Ruth about the situation, but with creche to keep her occupied and Ita invited over for dinner, Charlie seemed to have every base covered. Ruth had even left a list of dos and don’ts for his reference. Now, all that was left was for her to say goodbye.
As her husband stomped down the stairs, hairbrush in one hand, and Scarlett in his other arm, he looked just as upset as he was when Ruth explained why she wanted to look at returning to Hollywood.
“This is my dream, Charlie. This is my career. I cannot pass up this opportunity. Anyway, it’s just a quick reading and a meeting, and then dinner with the director and casting agent. I owe it to myself to just hear them out. Who knows, they may not even offer me the movie.”
Her eyes searched his for a positive answer, but Charlie had made it clear that he wasn’t crazy about the idea. When Ruth had given up Hollywood last time it was a conscious decision between the two of them. It wasn’t made lightly or without reservations. They had spent countless hours reassuring each other that Ruth would be happy without the cameras and the flashbulbs.
But things had moved on. This was her opportunity, her last shot at this. In a year or two, she would be too old, too forgotten by Hollywood standards to make a go of it if she chose to. He felt that it would be unfair of him to demand that she stay. He would not watch as she grew tired, frustrated, and resentful.
So Charlie handed Ruth her hairbrush and watched as she got into the front seat of the car. Before she drove away, he leaned into the open window and whispered, “I love you. I love you. I love you. Be safe. Have fun, and remember to call us when you get in. See you in a couple of days.”
Ruth flashed a brilliant smile at him, threw her arms around his neck through the open window, and kissed his gruff face. Blowing kisses at a dozing Scarlett, she said her first goodbye since she had made the decision to move back home to Lakeview. It was heartbreakingly painful, yet there was a resounding assurance that this was the right thing to do for everyone involved.
AS SHE DROVE through Main Street and headed out towards the motorway, Ruth watched as the decorated artisan homes twinkled in the early morning glow. The snow that had been steadily falling the past few hours cast a bright halo over the treetops and on the black, tiled roofs. Several people were heading out their doors to begin their day, head off to work, or fetch the morning paper and breakfast.
At the airport, Ruth waited as the machine printed her ticket. Economy. It was all that she could afford these days with only Charlie’s income and her lack of one. She had not flown economy in years. It was about a ten hour flight to LA, and she prayed that she would have a good, quiet seat mate to help ease through the journey. After all, there was nothing worse than being seated next to a chatty or obnoxious passenger.
She was more than relieved when she found out that she was in a row all by herself, giving her the peace and quiet she longed for. While she tried to doze, she found it hard to not feel the plane give and take or worry about the landing gear. Without an assistant to talk to, she couldn’t be reassured.
To distract herself from her own voice in her head, she instead reviewed the lines from the script. She marked up the white pages with character notes, phrasing suggestions, and reminders or inflections. She whispered lines and recited some of the bigger monologues by memory. She had spent the last couple of days practicing with Charlie and bouncing off ideas with him. Even Scarlett became a captive audience as her mum worked on her body movements and cues.
Thinking of the family she left behind, her heart ached immensely. By now, Scarlett would have fully woken up and Charlie would be on his way to creche. He had taken afternoons off from the dealership so that he could watch their daughter full time. And he had planned out their afternoons with activities both would enjoy. He even talked about pulling her from creche early so that they could spend time at the aquarium in nearby Bray.
His excitement and enthusiasm for caring for Scarlett was all that
Ruth needed to hear. While she tried not to count her chickens, she imagined what life would be like for the family if she did get the role. The movie would be at least 4 months’ worth of work and filming both in LA and on location. Then there would be the intermittent press tours, premiers, and receptions that would come a year or so later. With all that may happen, Ruth would either have to bring Scarlett on the road while Charlie stayed behind or he would have to become a solo dad while she worked. Either way, no option sounded appealing which is why Ruth refused to bring up the possibility. She would cross that bridge when it came.
For now, she needed to focus on nailing this reading. While it wasn’t exactly an audition, the casting agent and director wanted to test her out with a potential leading man on camera. It was a nerve-racking experience despite Ruth being a pro at this sort of thing. She counted at least forty failed screen tests in her time as an actress, and that didn’t even begin to touch the number of cold auditions she had been on.
But she was resilient and moved on from each rejection. This time, however was different. This could potentially be her last screen test, her last meeting with a director, her last mailed script offer. This was her final shot to make it happen. Ruth was not about to let it just slip away this time.
She was ready.
The flight passed quickly as Ruth worked tirelessly to memorise and ingrain the words on the page. As she waited for her hired car in LAX, she felt the warm breeze of California once again and felt completely at ease.
Something about being back where the sun always shined made her journey feel complete and right. She smiled as she realised that today was going to be a great day.
15
T he car dropped her off at the hotel first so that she could freshen up and change into more Hollywood appropriate attire.
Instead of the fitted shirts and denim skinny jeans she had practically lived in since moving back to Lakeview, she shimmied into a short, flared black skirt and a lacy black top.
Picking out her most daring red lipstick, she carefully applied her makeup and slipped into a pair of four-inch patent-leather heels. For the first time in a long time, she felt glam again.
She arrived at the casting agency’s office with a good half hour to spare. Yet, she was greeted immediately by a caravan of never ending industry faces she had vaguely remembered or recognised, from producers to lighting experts. All seemed eager to meet her and ready to work. The atmosphere was electric as she couldn’t help but feel like the star she used to be.
“Ruth, we’re ready for you.” The casting director peeked into the waiting area and waited as Ruth gathered her items and her script. The room was brightly lit with a white backdrop. Two cameras, one dead centre and the other off to her left as a profile, pointed at her stool. In the darkness sat four people. Immediately, she recognised the director, one of the producers, and the casting agent. The other was concealed, but she assumed it would be the leading male she would read with.
“Ruth! How good to finally meet you in person. You’re as gorgeous as ever! How is life outside of Hollywood treating you?” The director, Jeff, was unexpectedly cordial. Typically directors sat in silence and the casting agent would do all the talking. She was utterly taken aback by this dynamic shift.
“It’s, it’s, well it’s great thanks. I’m very happy.”
“Well, we are very happy to have you back,” the casting agent said in a bright, cheery voice. Already, Ruth was getting a great vibe from the set. “We would like you to read the monologue on page 63. Let’s start at the second line down. I will read for the mother. Are you ready?”
Ruth flipped to the page, quickly scanned the acting directions she had given herself, and smiled. She had this.
“What would make you happy Annie? Would leaving the factory make you happy? Would marrying George? What do you want? What do you want!”
Ruth took a deep breath, stared directly into the camera and began:
“I want nothing more than what we all deserve. I don’t want to work at the factory making peanuts an hour for nothing to show. I don’t want to marry George or start a family with him. He’s not for me. This life isn’t for me. This is your life, mama. This is your dream and your factory. I don’t belong here. Don’t you see? I belong somewhere where the air doesn’t fill my lungs with smoke and smog, or my prospects are a man without money and another man without ambition.”
As she said the last word, she knew that she had nailed it. The silence that lingered after she finished was telling. The smile on Jeff’s face was promising. The claps from the casting agent was a rare feat. She oozed confidence as she recited the next three selections from memory, nailing every cue and inflection that she had practiced.
“Thank you Ruth. That was phenomenal. We would like to test you with the male lead now. We just need an idea of how you two would work on screen now, if there’s still any chemistry between the two of you. Troy? Are you ready?”
A voice in the darkness broke as her leading male appeared. “Are you, Ruth?”
Ruth sat motionless, unable to speak as Troy, her ex co-star and Scarlett’s birth father, sat down beside her.
16
C harlie and Scarlett spent their day in a state of bliss. With this being the first time getting his daughter all to himself, he couldn’t bear to leave her at creche. Instead, the two had spent their day messing around the snow at the park by the lake, and at home playing doctor with her large collection of stuffed animals.
As she finally laid down for a nap after an action-filled day, Charlie began to prepare dinner. He knew this was an important night for his family. His mother had yet to spend more than a second inside this house since Ruth had moved in. Ita refused to acknowledge Scarlett, and she had rarely called Charlie on the house number. Instead, she only interacted with him on his mobile phone, or when he was either at work or making a trip to see her personally.
Her blatant attempt at freezing his family out had irritated Charlie, but he understood, to an extent, the issue Ita had with their situation. For some reason she had always disliked Ruth. As a teenager, she actively tried to persuade him to not get involved with her, even when they were just studying. She instead would attempt to set him up with one of the gaggle of her friend’s daughters. Each failed to catch his interest and served to infuriate and frustrate his mother more so.
Ita’s rage grew when she heard of their rekindled relationship, her pregnancy by another man and Charlie’s acceptance of it. When she received the call from him about their engagement, she hung up without a word, too upset to say anything kind. Charlie had genuinely been hurt, but knew that it would take time and love. He would prove to his mother that Ruth was the only woman for him and that Scarlett was his daughter in all but blood.
Tonight would be the night that it all came together, at least he hoped so. It had taken some persuading to get her to come, but with Ruth out of the picture for the next two days, Ita couldn’t deny any pleads for her company.
The doorbell rang at exactly 6pm. She was always on time, a trait that she had passed down to Charlie.
“Mum! Welcome! Come in, come in.” He assisted her in taking off her coat and hung it in the hallway. Without a word, she surveyed their home. While not the largest in the village, it was modest, modern and tastefully decorated with art work Ruth had moved from her old place in LA. Every bit of the house had Ruth’s touch and character. Charlie loved it.
“Scarlett, come say hello to your grandmother.” The little girl walked uneasily towards Charlie, gripping his pant leg and hiding behind his arms. She was always cautious around strangers and Ita was certainly an unfamiliar face.
For her part, Ita just looked down at Scarlett and whispered a brief greeting. She then walked off into the dining room where she sat waiting for Charlie to follow.
“How have you been, mum? I haven’t heard from you in a while.” He smiled at her from the other end of the table. Scarlett sat in his lap, playing with a plastic zoo animal.
“I have been doing well. I repainted your old bedroom and purchased a new sofa bed for it. I decided there wasn’t much use in keeping it as a bedroom.”
“No, of course not. Where did you ge—”
“Where is Miss Ruth exactly?” she interrupted him, obviously wanting to get right to the point.
“She flew back to LA on an errand,” he explained patiently, sensing a trap. “She’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“LA?” Ita said disdainfully. “Really? And what errand is so important that she could just leave her child in the care of someone who isn’t a parent?”
“Mum,” he said, his voice rising, “I am Scarlett’s parent. I adopted her. My name is on her paperwork. I am her father.”
“Don’t be stupid, Charlie,” Ita countered. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do, mum,” Charlie said through gritted teeth. “What exactly are you saying?”
Ita pounced. “That child is not yours,” she said haughtily. “She is not your flesh and blood; she’s someone else’s—probably someone as irresponsible and flighty as Ruth. But where’s he? Where’s she? You’re here taking care of Scarlett while her mother gallivants around Hollywood and her real father is God knows where. She is not your child.” A sense of satisfaction washed over Ita as she let that out.
“Who said she was there for work?”
“She’s obviously up to something—a film or a TV show or something. Either way, it cannot lead to anything good but Ruth getting everything that she wants.”
“And what exactly do you think Ruth wants?”
Ita smiled disdainfully. “To dump her daughter on some unsuspecting, moony-eyed idiot like you. She knows you mean money and security and she just wants to latch on like she always has. Don’t you see Charlie? You are her ticket out of here and back into the limelight.”
