I stared into the bathroom mirror. I dug through my makeup bag and wondered whether blue or green eyeshadow would look better against brown eyes. I put on a kiss of lipstick, then wiped it off.
I wore a lot more makeup in my teens than I was wearing at twenty-five. At thirteen or fifteen, makeup felt like magic. Wave the mascara wand, and suddenly I’d look older, more like the senior girls with their long, polished nails and cigarettes. Add lipstick, and I could imagine being the sort of girl that boys in my class whispered about, with her curvy way of walking by that would make even a football star press against the wall to let her pass. Add blush, and I might even start to resemble Brennie Critchett, who was prom queen back when I was a sophomore.
Of course, when I got older, I realized that there were a lot of things mascara couldn’t change or fix. Maybe if I’d been the prom queen, I’d have felt differently.
I blinked at my reflection in the mirror of the narrow upstairs bathroom. At the same age, Joshua Reed had a publicist and a fan club and a fan club president. Of course, not everyone can have such a life, or there’d be no one to run the registers at the Winn-Dixie. But I worried a little about the discrepancy between the girl in the mirror and the folks she’d meet in a few hours time.
I put the lipstick back on, and chose green eyeshadow. I thought the night might call for a little magic. It was Joshua Reed, after all. I wondered what Judy would be wearing. I wondered if I would get to call Joshua “J.P.”
And then I was there. The car ride took less time than I’d expected. Even though I was twenty-five, I’d only been to Harper’s Ferry maybe five times, and then, not to the Virginia side. I’d never even heard of the resort where Judy and Joshua were staying, where we were having dinner. It seemed so far from Pinecob that I expected to be sitting on that leather car seat for hours.
I walked in and gave the host my name and he took me to a table where a woman was sitting.
She stood up and said, “Oh Leanne, Leanne, Leanne. It’s a real pleasure.”
Judy was shorter than I was, but she was in heels, so it was hard to tell by just how much. She had short hair, too, in a sort of blond, businesswoman cut. She was younger than I expected, older than me but somewhere in her mid-thirties. And she seemed as nice in person as on the phone. Just as nice and just as busy. Right as I walked up, her cell phone rang. She glanced at it, then turned it off without answering, which I took as a compliment.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “Finally.”
“J.P. and Lars will be down soon enough, I’m guessing,” Judy said. I must have looked confused because she said, “Lars is my husband,” and then I remembered the name. “He decided to come with me, last minute. You know he’s J.P.’s agent, right? That’s how we met.”
“I don’t think you ever told me that,” I said.
“It’s not much of a story. Lars makes it his business to know everyone. So when he signed Joshua, he had to meet with me. The rest is history,” Judy said. “Listen, Leanne, before the boys show up and people start drinking, I want to thank you for your time and effort, all these years. You really keep the fan club rolling. I want to tell you that. J.P. certainly won’t,” she added.
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” Judy said. “There are no complaints from his corner. Actually, there are many complaints, but none about you. He’s…he’s getting famous,” she began, but cut off. “There you two are!”
That’s when I turned and saw Joshua Reed in person for the first time. Judy stood, so I stood, too. I felt my heart start pounding a little.
“Joshua, I want you to meet Leanne,” Judy said. “Hi honey,” she whispered to a second man who had walked up and put his arm around her waist.
Joshua Reed leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “Leanne. Favorite fan. It is a pleasure,” he said.
I nodded. I managed to say that it was nice to meet him, too. At least, I think I managed to say that. I was just taking it all in. There he was, Joshua Reed, Colin Ashcroft, Nate Cummings, soon to be Josiah Whitcomb. Joshua Reed.
He was shorter than the Joshua Reed in my mind. I mean, after seven years, I knew what his details were, and the official statistics put him at 6'1", but Tommy is 6'2", and I swear that Joshua was more than an inch down. But I didn’t focus on that. The rest of the statistics were accurate. The dark brown hair, the dark green eyes. He was growing his hair for the role, Judy had told me, and I could tell. It was curling a bit around the bottoms of his ears. He was beautiful. I’d never seen someone that beautiful up close and in person. I tried not to stare.
Judy introduced me to Lars, her husband, the agent, and he shook my hand hard and enthusiastic and then the four of us sat.
“So Leanne, Judy says that you’ve lived in West Virginia your whole life. Any plans to move?” Lars asked me this, right after our drinks came.
He looked like I always imagined New England professors to look—with little glasses and a beard. And he was one of those people who looked straight at you when you talked, like everything you said was fascinating. I wondered if that made him a good agent.
I told him that I didn’t have any plans as yet, that there were nice things about living in Pinecob.
“The town is called Pinecob?” Joshua asked. “What’s that all about?”
“J.P.,” Judy said. “Please.”
“I’m just asking,” he said.
“I don’t know where the name comes from,” I told him. “Pine trees, maybe. It’s just a small town. I imagine there are lots of small towns with funny names out there.”
“Of course there are,” Judy said, and Lars nodded.
“Has your family been around here for long? You know, I’m from Virginia,” Lars said. “Northern. Close to D.C.”
I nodded, to both parts.
“My father’s family is from Elkins, down south a bit. That’s where Susan, my sister, lives. My mother’s family is from close to Charleston, the capital—not Charles Town,” I explained. “Charles Town is just the county seat. But that’s probably more than you wanted to know.”
“Not at all,” Lars said, though I thought I saw Joshua roll his eyes. “What business is your father in?” Lars asked.
I heard Judy take a quick breath. She knew more about me than either of the men, and I imagine she was worried that I was going to feel uncomfortable, telling practical strangers about my life. But I didn’t mind. I couldn’t remember anyone asking before. That’s the thing about a small town—everyone already knows your story. It’s kind of nice to say it out loud every once in a while.
“My dad died when I was fourteen,” I explained. “But he was in the insurance business. Life insurance.”
“I’m sorry,” Lars said.
“You must have cleaned up after that.”
I looked over at Joshua, but I couldn’t read his expression. I couldn’t tell whether or not he was being nice.
“Why? Oh, because he would have a big policy? Yeah, you’d think that, but they say it’s like doctors smoking. He didn’t leave much of anything.”
“But that’s awful,” Judy said. “I didn’t realize.”
“Wait—your dad was a life insurance salesman and he didn’t have life insurance? Rude!” Joshua sounded annoyed.
“He had some,” I explained. “But it only covered the funeral costs. Anyhow, we’re okay. He had good health insurance, so most of my brother Beau Ray’s care is covered from here on out.”
“Beau Ray?” Joshua asked.
“Brother,” Judy said.
“Yeah, I got that,” Joshua said. He poured himself more wine. “What’s wrong with brother Beau Ray?”
“He had a fall. Years back. He was playing touch football, no helmet, and he fell and hit up against a rock. For a while, the doctors said he was probably going to die, but he made it, only he’s disabled.”
“Disabled how?”
“J.P.,” Judy hissed.
“I’m just asking,�
�� he said. He sounded defensive.
“No, it’s okay. It’s not a secret. My dad always said that families shouldn’t have secrets—except around the holidays, you know, with presents and all,” I said.
I told them—we talked about it pretty much through dinner and on into coffee. Judy and Lars kept asking for details. Joshua Reed didn’t say much, but he did offer to refill my wineglass once, after refilling his own. I told them about Beau Ray and how he was more like a six-year-old than a twenty-nine-year-old, and how that wasn’t likely to change for the better. I told them about Tommy doing construction up and down the Shenandoah. I told them about Susan and her three kids and her husband, Tim, who drove a truck down in Elkins. I told them about Momma and her job as a receptionist in a dentist’s office and her weekends making quilts and how she hadn’t been out with anyone since Dad died. I mentioned Vince and how he left the house that night when I was fourteen, and that except for a couple of phone calls early on, no one had heard from him, no one knew where he was and no one much talked about it anymore.
“Jesus,” Joshua said. “That’s fucked up.”
“You never thought about going to college? You’re clearly bright enough,” Judy asked, waving Joshua away.
I couldn’t imagine ever waving him away, and here she was acting like it was no big deal. Judy was looking hard at me, so I knew I had to answer. I explained that I had figured on college, but when the time came, Momma couldn’t take care of Beau Ray on her own, and he was my brother, after all. I told her how, for a few years running, I’d been taking prelaw courses over in Shepherdstown—during the summer when things were slower at the dentist’s office. Judy and Lars nodded.
“It’ll happen eventually,” I said. “There are worse places to be than Pinecob.”
“I hope we’ll get a chance to visit while we’re here, don’t you, Judy?” Lars asked.
“Of course,” Judy agreed.
“Jesus!” Joshua said, and all three of us looked over at him. I thought maybe he’d burned himself on something. His voice was that sharp. “You think she really believes you?”
“Josh—” Lars began, but Joshua kept going.
“No offense Leanne, but if I get a day off, I plan to find a city, or at least a good-sized suburb. There are a few too many gun racks around here for my taste.”
“J.P.!” Judy said.
“Josh, that’s completely uncalled for,” Lars said.
“It’s okay,” I said. I could tell that Lars was angry.
“It’s not okay,” Lars snapped. He turned to Joshua. “None of your behavior tonight has been okay! None of your behavior on this entire trip has been okay! I want you to apologize to Leanne.”
Joshua turned and stared at me. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was some sort of Goody Two-shoes I hadn’t meant to be. Turns out, I didn’t have to do anything. Joshua Reed turned back to Lars and ignored me altogether.
“I’m not your kid,” he said. “You want me to apologize because I don’t want to go to Pinecob? Please! Like you guys would actually be caught dead there. Why the fuck am I even here? Leanne runs the fan club. Great. Wonderful. I’m sure she does a bang-up job. But that’s your bag, Judy. Don’t drag me into it. I could be home in L.A., watching a Lakers game with my girlfriend. I did you a favor. I came to dinner.” Joshua stood up and stepped away from the table. He steadied himself on the back of his chair. “But I didn’t agree to be hauled around and shown off in random bumfuck towns.”
“You’re such a prick,” Lars said. “I’ve been with you for an evening, and I’m sick of you already.”
“Yeah, right,” Joshua said. “You say that and then you get your ten percent and you shut up awfully quick about how sick you are of me.”
“Fuck you,” Lars said. He stood, too, and stared at Joshua. “I don’t care how big you think you’re getting. It’s not worth it. You’re not worth it.”
“Oh, no,” Joshua Reed said. His voice was sarcastic.
“Joshua, please. Lars,” Judy said, but neither man paid any attention. They reminded me of cats in a standoff, staring at each other until one backs away.
“Fuck you,” Lars said again. “You want me to see to it that you don’t work here again?”
“In Harper’s Ferry? Go right ahead,” Joshua said.
“You know that’s not where I mean,” Lars said.
“You can’t do that anymore. You don’t decide,” Joshua said. “Just try.” And then he stalked off.
“You’re an asshole!” Lars called out after him.
There were only a few tables where people were still eating, but from where I sat, it looked like everyone in the room turned to stare at Lars. I shrank a little in my chair.
“He is,” Lars said. “Sorry.”
Judy took hold of Lars’s arm and pulled him back to his seat.
“Leanne, I’m so sorry,” Judy said. She dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “I’m sorry you had to see…hear that.”
“It’s okay,” I told them, though I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Sure, no one likes to be insulted, or have the thing or the people they care for held up as goofy or uncool. But it was hard to take it personally. Joshua Reed didn’t know me, or my family, or Pinecob. He was just mad, and I knew that, whatever the reason, it had been there before he met me.
“It’s not okay,” Lars said again. “It can’t always be okay. It’s not okay to insult you, to make Judy cry. I’m really fed up with this kid.”
“He’s not a kid,” Judy said. “That’s the problem.”
“He doesn’t act like any adult I know,” Lars said. “So much potential and I have tried—really—to get him to use it, and not waste goodwill on these outbreaks. I’m serious. I can get a lot of agents not to touch him, but someone out there is going to offer him representation.”
Judy nodded.
“Listen, Leanne. It’s late,” Lars said. “You can take the car back home now, if you want. But why don’t you let us put you up here tonight? You can have a nice night away. We can have breakfast in the morning—I know Judy wanted to talk to you about the movie, didn’t you, hon?”
Judy nodded again.
“We can put this incident behind us,” Lars said.
“Oh, do stay,” Judy said. “They’ve got a great breakfast buffet.”
Like I needed convincing. I’d never stayed in a hotel that nice, and the thought of sleeping in a big bed and getting to use trial-size shampoos, that sounded fun. So I said okay, and Lars jumped up to take care of things.
“Joshua is going through a difficult period,” Judy said, quietly, once Lars was out of earshot.
I nodded like I knew what she was talking about. All I knew was that he was getting more and more famous, and getting to star in a bunch of different movies, and getting to date models like Elise. I wasn’t a guy and I didn’t live in Los Angeles, but it didn’t sound all that difficult.
“He’s…he’s adjusting to a new level of celebrity, and that’s hard,” she said.
“How long has it been difficult?” I asked.
Judy thought a moment, then shook her head. “Pretty much since I’ve known him, I guess.” She smiled but looked sad at the same time.
“That can’t be fun. For you, I mean,” I said.
“It’s not. A lot of the time. But he’s an excellent actor. He really is. He’s more talented than any of my other clients. And when I see him work,” Judy said, “it’s almost worth it. For Lars, it’s different. He doesn’t really like actors, so he’s got a lot less patience.”
“Was he serious about dropping Joshua?” I asked.
Judy seemed to think about it. “He might have been. Something to sleep on, anyhow.”
Lars returned then, with a room key for me. He gave me a brief tour on the way to the lobby. There was a bar that stayed open late, to the left of the restaurant. There was a smaller dining room, where the breakfast buffet would be served.
“What time do you usually wake up?” Lars aske
d. “For breakfast.”
“I’m usually up around six,” I told him.
“Yow,” Lars said.
Judy laughed. “You’re quite the morning person, but that’s a little early for us,” she said. “Especially since that’s three in the morning California time. How about around eight we meet down here?”
We were standing in the lobby. My room was down the hallway, theirs was upstairs.
“Eight’s fine, too,” I told them.
My room was small, but so neat, and the blankets were turned down and there was a chocolate coin on the pillow. I checked the bathroom, and there was a little bottle of shampoo and another of conditioner and also lotion and two kinds of soap, and a shower cap and a sewing kit. I put everything in my purse right away, then put the shampoo back, since I would need it for the shower in the morning.
I called home so that Momma knew where I was. And then I called Sandy at the beach.
“You’ll never guess where I am,” I told her.
“In Joshua Reed’s bedroom?” she guessed, whispering.
“No. But I am in the same hotel, and I’m staying here. In my own room. For the night.”
“So?” Sandy asked.
I told her all of it, and she was a lot more pissed than I was.
“What a butthole,” she said, when I finished.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said.
“I’m sorry, Leanne,” Sandy said.
“No, I’m really okay about it,” I told her.
Mean Season Page 3
