"I’m starved," Mia said, peeking into the mini-bar. "Can I raid the bar?"
"You can, but why don’t we go down to the pool and have an early dinner? They serve until five."
"Cool. I wish it were warm enough to swim."
"No such luck. We used to start swimming in April or May, just like the rest of the country. You get an occasional 90 degree day, but it’s still usually 50 at night – not warm enough for the pool to retain any heat."
Mia grasped her hand as they exited the room and headed towards the pool. "It’s hard for me to picture you growing up down here." Cocking her head slightly, she said, "Maybe it’s because you don’t talk about it much. It’s like your life started when you got to Berkeley."
With a half-smile, Jordan tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and said, "In a way it did. My bad memories about growing up are as plentiful as the good ones. I guess I try to erase them all."
"Would you show me around a little?" Mia asked tentatively. "I’d like to see the house where you grew up, where you went to school … stuff like that."
"Okay. We can do that. I can have the limo drive us by my mother’s home – but I’m not going in." She lapsed into pensive silence while they walked, not speaking again until they were seated at a nice table right on the edge of the pool deck. Mia scooted her chair out from under the large, buff-colored market umbrella so the late-afternoon sun could warm her. Looking around, she asked in a quiet voice, "Isn’t that Steven Spielberg?" pointing discreetly at the next table.
Jordan sighed and said, "Yeah, as a matter of fact it is. That’s Jeffrey Katzenberg with him. I’d better go say hello. Want to come?"
Mia stared at her, nonplussed, sure that Jordan was toying with her. When she didn’t answer, the blonde shrugged and pushed her chair back. She approached the two men with her confident, smooth gait, looking like she was completely used to rubbing elbows with the power brokers of Hollywood.
Gaping openly, Mia watched in amazement as Jordan conversed cordially for a few minutes then tilted her head in Mia’s direction and said goodbye. Both men stood and kissed her cheek, offering a little wave to Mia when Jordan sat back down.
It took the stunned woman a moment to collect herself enough to ask, "You know them?"
"Yeah. I told you that my dad’s in development at Paramount. He’s worked with both of them – Steven more so than Jeffrey, since Jeffrey was with Disney doing animated features for so many years. I’ve been to Steven’s house on a couple of occasions – I actually like the house he and Amy Irving had better than the one he lives in now." She was being remarkably casual about the whole thing, and Mia struggled to take it all in.
"I guess I’ve never thought of you as being a Hollywood kid," she finally said.
"Well, I’m not really. You’ve got to be in the biz to know my dad. His connections are more to producers and directors than to actors. We were just another family who makes a living in Hollywood rather anonymously."
Their server arrived, and after Mia ordered a chicken Caesar salad, Jordan asked for something not on the menu, much to Mia’s surprise. "I’d like a vegetable salad," she said. "Blanched or steamed, no oil, no butter. Green or yellow vegetables only. No carrots or cauliflower."
"Would you like a dressing for that?" he asked.
"No. Plain, please. And an iced tea."
Mia pondered her order for a moment as the waiter scribbled a note. Jordan was usually the type who would gratefully take whatever was placed in front of her. In their time together, Mia had never seen her put much thought into what she ate, as long as it filled her up – not always an easy task. She must have looked a little puzzled, because Jordan gave her a shrug and said, "My belly has to be flat for the shoot."
Mia had seen every delicious inch of Jordan’s body, and the perfectly smooth abdomen she loved didn’t have a spare cell. "Honey, you’re practically concave as it is," she reminded her.
"Yeah. It’s the practically part that I’m worried about. This is an ad for Polo sportswear. I’ll be showing a lot of skin."
"Ooo, I’m glad I came," Mia said. "The more the merrier."
"Mark my words," Jordan said, nodding to the server as he placed their drinks on the table, "there’s nothing less sexy than a photo shoot."
"We’ll see about that," Mia said. "You’ve never had my perspective."
During their late lunch, Jordan was much quieter than normal, finally compelling Mia to ask what was on her mind. "I think I’d better let my dad know I’m here," she said. "Do you mind if I try to find some time to see him?"
Mia took notice of the "I" and tried to hide her hurt. "Of course not. You do what you have to do."
When the server brought their meals, Jordan asked for a phone, which was delivered immediately. She dialed the number by heart, spent a few minutes trying to get past his secretary, then was put through. "Hi, Dad, it’s Jordan," she said. "I’m in LA for the weekend, and I thought you might have a few minutes to get together."
"What are you doing here? Aren’t they keeping you busy enough in Colorado?"
"Oh, yeah, I’m busy, but I got a shoot for Ralph Lauren, and I couldn’t turn it down. I’ll be working all day, but it’s an outdoor set, so I’ll have my evenings free."
Mia didn’t like the sound of Jordan offering up one of their precious evenings, but she tried to concentrate on her salad, rather than her growing pique.
"Hmm … this isn’t the best weekend for me, honey," he said, and Jordan could hear him flipping through his omnipresent calendar. "I have a premiere to go to tonight, and we’re having a dinner party tomorrow night. I promised Candy that I’d reserve all day for her on Saturday. We see so little of each other. Damn," he mumbled, "this is two times in a row that I can’t swing it. I’m really sorry about that, Jor."
"That’s okay, Dad. I’m gonna be wiped anyway."
Even though Mia didn’t like to be ignored, she was even more insulted by the fact that Jordan’s dad wouldn’t go out of his way to see her. She knew that she couldn’t say what was on her mind, since Jordan was unable to see her father in a less-than-positive light, but it incensed her nonetheless.
"I think your mother’s in town," Jorgen Ericsson said. "Maybe you could drop by and see her."
"Well, that wasn’t on my ‘to do’ list," she said. "You know we don’t have much in common, Dad."
"Count your blessings," he said. "I uhm … hoped you might go to bat for me a little bit."
"What do you need?" she asked, straightening in her chair.
"Well, since you’re out of school now, I was going to try to petition the court to reduce the total amount I pay her. For Christ’s sake, Jordan, do you know that woman gets $8,000 a month in alimony and $3,000 a month for your support?"
She knew full well what her mother received on a monthly basis, and she kept to herself the fact that she hadn’t seen a penny of it since she left for Berkeley.
"How can I help, Dad?"
"I’m not sure you can, but I want to propose that she receive no more than $5,000 a month. It’s going to be a fight, of course, and I’d appreciate anything you can do to ease the way."
She rolled her eyes, already able to picture the pathetic moaning she would be subjected to. "I’ll think about it, and see what I can do, Dad. I uhm … can’t make any promises, though."
"That’s fine, honey. No promises needed. I know you’ll come through for me – you always do."
A wan smile lit her face as she wracked her brain to think of a way to reach her mother. "Do my best. See you next time I’m in town, Dad."
"How about a little notice next time? My calendar for June is almost filled and it’s only February."
"Will do. See you."
She placed the receiver down, and picked up her fork, lackadaisically picking at her salad. "He wants me to go pave the way so my mother doesn’t stroke out when he tries to cut her alimony."
Mia had gathered as much from Jordan’s side of the conversation. She held
her tongue, since the only thing she could think of was how cruel it was to place your child in the middle of money arguments. "You gonna do it?" she asked gently.
Placing the fork down, Jordan cocked her head and said, "I have to. He’s counting on me."
Counting to ten, Mia wondered why the words "have to" were always mentioned when either of Jordan’s parents was discussed. "Want me to go with you?" she asked.
Jordan had picked up her fork and was angrily spearing each defenseless vegetable in turn, oblivious to Mia’s question.
On Thursday afternoon, the softball team was lounging around the gate at the America West terminal, killing time until they were allowed to board. They were finally called, and the group got in line. As usual, Ryan stayed right where she was, her intrinsic hatred of waiting in line compelling her to be the last one to board every flight.
When the last person was nearly at the door, she stood and slung her carryon over her shoulder. She was about at the door when the person behind her tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, good lookin’, wanna sit next to me?"
Whirling around, Ryan’s eyes bugged out when she saw her brother, Rory, grinning at her. "What are you doing here?"
"I’ve never been to New Mexico, and this seemed like the ideal weekend to go. I haven’t been to any of your games yet, you know."
She tossed her arms around him, hugging him so tightly that he could barely move. "Oh, Rory, you’re the sweetest guy in the world." Pulling back, she gave him a fond smile and said, "You don’t have to do this, though. I know Jamie’s worried about me, but I’ll be all right."
"I know you will, sis, but I want to go. I didn’t have a thing planned for the weekend, and this will give me a chance to spend some time with my favorite sister."
Shaking her head, Ryan hugged him again, saying, "Let’s go, favorite brother. The flight attendant is giving us the evil eye."
As soon as her test was over, Jamie called her mother. "Hey, Mom, how would you like a guest for a few nights?"
"Oh, honey, you don’t have to call to ask that. Nothing would make me happier than to see you. Has Ryan left for her trip?"
"Yeah," the younger woman said. "I miss her already. You don’t mind me sitting around and moping all night, do you?"
"You come right down here, sweetheart. We’ll have a nice dinner, and then you can get on the phone and talk to Ryan all evening."
"Sounds great, Mom. I’ll be there within an hour or two."
Marta pulled out all of the stops, making her famous arroz con pollo, one of Jamie’s favorites. The Evans women then went out to the spa to relax and chat. Catherine gave her daughter a warm smile and asked, "You’ve been here for over an hour and haven’t called Ryan once. Are you two having a tiff?"
"No, not at all. Ryan’s plane didn’t leave until late afternoon, and she has a layover in Phoenix. She could call when she gets to El Paso, but I told her to wait until she arrived in Las Cruces so we could talk longer."
"How do you think she’ll handle being away, honey?"
Jamie got an impish smile on her face and said, "I meddled a tiny bit. She was very anxious and sad last night, so I got on the phone and called around until I found someone to go with her. Rory was only too happy to fill in for me." She chuckled and said, "I was prepared to start hitting the cousins, but luckily, I didn’t have to."
"You, young lady, are a very, very good partner. I don’t know where you got your skills, but I’m very glad that you have them."
The younger woman was about to reply when her cell phone rang. Jamie hopped out of the spa and reached for the little phone, hitting the talk button. "Hello?"
"Do you know who I love more than anyone on earth?" a deep, sexy, voice asked.
"Mmm … with a voice like that, I hope the answer is me," Jamie said, giggling.
"Oh, it’s you all right. I love you with all of my heart and soul, Jamie Dunlop Smith Evans. The day I met you was the luckiest day of my whole life."
"Aww … you’re making me blush."
"Well, you made me cry, so we’re even. Seeing Rory at the gate was about the nicest surprise I’ve ever had. Thank you, Jamie. Thank you for loving me so much."
"I do love you, Ryan, and I couldn’t bear to have you be alone for 5 days. Rory was actually excited about going, too. I didn’t have to coerce him."
"Yeah, he loves to travel, and he’s never been to New Mexico. He’s going to rent a car and drive around tomorrow. He’s pretty jazzed."
"Did you get any comments from your teammates, honey? I know how they like to tease you."
"No, surprisingly, I didn’t. I don’t think they believed he was my brother, to tell you the truth. I think they’re worried that I’m cheating on you," she said, chuckling softly.
"Oh, God! What will they think when you share a room?"
There was a short silence, then Ryan said, "Uhm … Jamie? I’m 24-years-old, and Rory’s 28. That’s a long time past cuddling in bed together. I’m bunking with Jackie, same as usual."
"But … what if you wake up and need to talk to someone? That’s why I sent Rory."
"If I wake up and get freaked out, I’ll sneak out of my room and go talk to him. He already promised that he wouldn’t mind if I woke him. Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got it covered."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, love. I’m a little shaky, but I’d be a lot shakier if my teammates knew I brought my brother on road trips, and then slept with him!"
After chatting for a long while, Jamie hung up, giggling to herself. "You know, sometimes I’m a little goofy."
"How’s that?"
"Well, I thought Ryan would sleep in Rory’s room over the weekend, so he could comfort her if she was upset during the night. It didn’t dawn on me how that would look to her teammates. I mean, Ryan’s odd enough without sleeping with her 28-year-old brother!"
Catherine laughed heartily at that, shaking her head. "That’s more than a little funny, Jamie."
"I don’t often think of the boys as boys – do you know what I mean? It doesn’t occur to me that they’re different from Ryan … even though they clearly are."
"Clearly," Catherine agreed. "I’ve seen all of them in bathing suits, and the differences are quite stark."
"You’re telling me," Jamie said. "I much prefer the distaff version of the O’Flaherty model."
"To each her own," Catherine said, smiling wryly. "If I were 20 years younger, I’d make a play for any one of the boys."
"They are a fine bunch," Jamie agreed. Glancing at her watch, she said, "I guess we might as well go to bed. It’s getting late, and I want to go on your morning walk with you."
"Oh, that’ll be fun!" Catherine emerged from the pool and dried off quickly. When they went inside, she asked, "Do you need anything before bed? Some warm milk, maybe?"
"No." Jamie hesitated for a moment, then summoned the nerve to ask, "Uhm … would you rub my head for a few minutes? That really relaxes me."
"Of course!" Catherine beamed a smile at her daughter that made Jamie’s heart swell with love. Taking her mother’s hand, they walked up the stairs together. "I’ll go rinse off, and be back in a minute, honey."
Jamie nodded, and did the same. She was lying in bed, waiting patiently, when her mother knocked a few minutes later. "Come on in."
"Hi." Catherine sat down on the edge of the bed and patted her child’s back. Jamie was wearing a thin, cropped, cotton tank top, and Catherine slipped her fingers under the material. "When you were a tiny baby, you liked to have your back scratched exactly like this." The older woman ran her short, perfectly manicured nails across Jamie’s shoulders, then moved down her back, making her daughter giggle.
"I didn’t know that," Jamie murmured. "I … I didn’t think you … did things like that when I was little."
Her hand stilling, Catherine said, "Elizabeth didn’t like it, because she said it riled you up too much. She believed in putting a baby into her crib and then leaving her to cry herself to sleep. But
when I heard her close her door, I’d sneak into your room and rub and tickle you until you were sound asleep." She laughed softly and said, "She thought her methods were the most sound in the world, since you never cried when she put you in your crib. Little did she know that I was subverting her rules – God only knows what kind of scene it would have created if she’d ever caught me."
"How long did you do that?" Jamie asked, amazed that her mother would risk Elizabeth’s wrath.
There was a long pause, and then Catherine said, "Until you didn’t want me to do it any longer."
Jamie flipped over onto her back staring, wide eyed at her mother. "Why wouldn’t I want you to do that?"
Catherine wiped at a tear and said, "It was after I went to Europe for two weeks. You never … you never seemed to feel the same about me after that. You were very angry that I’d left you, sweetheart, and I think you stopped trusting me."
"Oh, Mom." Jamie wrapped her arms around her mother and they both cried for a long while. "I’m sorry I hurt you like that."
"I’m the one who should be sorry, Jamie. I was so hurt that I pulled back from you. It was honestly the worst time of my life. I felt so unnecessary." Sniffling a little she added, "But, there’s never a valid reason to distance yourself from your child. I let my hurt affect our relationship, and that’s unforgivable."
"No, it’s not," Jamie said. "I forgive you, Mom. I swear I do. You did your best with a job you weren’t prepared for."
"That’s an understatement," Catherine said. "I wasn’t mature enough to have a cat, much less a child. But, that’s my fault, too. Having unprotected sex was merely one more indication of my immaturity."
"Daddy was in law school, Mom, he should have known better than to risk it."
"I know, honey, but you know how men are. They expect the woman to take care of birth control. I … I didn’t know the rules."
"Well, even though it’s been painful for both of us, I’m glad you had me when you did. If you’d waited until you were older, I’d never have met Ryan. And, believe me, she’s a once in a lifetime woman."
Monogamy Page 36
