by N. K. Smith
Ronnie nods but looks like she’s going to continue along the same line of questioning. I let out a breath of relief when she doesn’t. “You mentioned Liliana Addison and Peter Truelove earlier. Let’s talk about the film you wrote. Did you write it with them already in mind for those characters?”
My chest swells with something warm and gratifying. “Yes, I did, and I’m totally in love with it!” I don’t want to come off to egotistical or anything, but the happiness I feel because of this film shines through any attempts to control it. “I wrote it to be a sort of reunion for us and also a bit of a reason for all of us to reconnect and remember our pasts as friends and co-actors.”
“Well, Collette Stroud, who is producing the film, can’t say enough good things about the script. I’m very excited to follow it. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a spoiler hound, so I’ll be looking for all those insider photos and snippets from on the set.”
I laugh. “I’ll be sure to send you some exclusive snapshots when we get started.”
“Yes. Please do.” Ronnie looks behind me, then says, “Okay. So we’ll take five now. It’s a natural place for a commercial break. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“I’m not being too rough with the questions?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ll talk about the film you’re directing some more, but then we’ll probably circle back to your low point so we can highlight all you’ve done since then. I’d like the audience to get a real sense of how far you’ve come and what an inspiration you are to so many people.”
Heat prickles at my cheeks. “I don’t know about all that. I’m not an—”
“Don’t sell yourself short, my dear. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. You’ve kicked a horrible addiction and are leading the way for other actresses to learn from your ordeal and not make the same choices you’ve made. I’ve gotten quite a few pieces of mail from people asking for this interview, and all of them see you as a modern day comeback kid, someone who was down, but came back stronger than ever.”
If that’s how people see me, I’ll take it. It’s better than being the failure I was in that photo Ronnie showed me. I will never go to that extreme again.
Chapter 67
Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety.
I’ve got to be on set in two hours!
I’m trying to just breathe. I’m trying to just relax, but this new film has a heap of pressure that goes along with it. If it fails, it means I’ve failed. Can I handle it? Can I do it? Can I helm this?
I think I can, and, like Bran says, I won’t know until I try.
So here I go . . .
***
I think this is my fifth cup of coffee this morning. I’m full of energy already, but it gives me something to do with my hands, and the fact that it’s a hot liquid keeps me from bouncing up and down in nervousness. Spilling it all over me would not be a good thing to do the first day on set.
My stomach gurgles as I watch the crew moving around like synchronized bees. The assistant director says something to me, but I’m too busy debating the merits of walking over to the food table to grab a banana. It might calm my nerves, but maybe it’ll sit in my stomach like a rock and give me a true bellyache for the rest of the day.
Cole is due on set soon. She says she won’t be here every day, but to be honest, I’m happy she’s coming. This is a lot of weight on my shoulders, and I’m starting to freak out. If I sink this ship not only will my efforts in writing an engaging story be wasted, but I’ll have the loss of Cole’s money and the embarrassment of my friends on my hands.
“Doing okay?”
Peter’s low and soft voice in my ear should’ve startled me, but instead it relaxes me. I feel his arms move around my waist, and I look down to see his hands clasped in front of me.
I can either relax further into him, or I can move away and maintain a healthy and distant director/actor relationship while on set. It boils down to comfort or professionalism.
Leaning back against him and closing my eyes as his shoulder naturally cradles my head, I settle into comfort. I’ll be professional in all other aspects, but I’m not going to pretend Peter doesn’t help me remain focused, and when I’m focused, I have control.
“I’m okay,” I say in a soft murmur.
He tightens his arms for a moment. “You feel okay.”
I chuckle a little as I open my eyes. “Just a little anxious.”
“You’re going to be great, and the best part is that it’s just me and Lili. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Stepping out of his loose embrace, I tilt my head toward where the director of photography is talking to the key grip. “But I’m in front of all these people. I don’t want to—”
“Just stop right there. All these people know this is your first day directing your first movie. You already have a pass on perfection. It’s not about the mistakes you may make, Adra. It’s about how you handle them and move on.”
I scratch the back of my neck as I look down at Peter’s shoes. “I guess I should know that, right? Me, of all people.”
When I look back up, he’s smiling at me. “Mistakes can make us better people, better performers, better directors, so don’t sweat it, okay?” He glances behind him. “Don’t tell her I told you, but Lili’s freaking.”
I widen my eyes and crane my neck to look behind him. I don’t see her though. “Why?”
He shrugs. “She doesn’t want to mess this up for you. I think this is the most complex character she’s ever played, and on this film, there’s nothing she can fall back on if her acting isn’t up to par, you know?”
“No, I don’t understand.”
“These are some emotionally revealing scenes you’ve written. She’s got to give it her all, every moment she’s on film, and between you and me, I think she knows she can’t fake it or be lazy this time since you’re directing. We know each other so well that I don’t think any of us are going to let the other off the hook without giving the whole process our all.” He pauses and then adds, “Which is really kind of cool.”
God, Peter always seems so together. He has a deeper understanding of acting as an art form. “Maybe you should direct the film.”
“Nope. This is your baby. You’re going to do it justice and get the praise you deserve.”
I attempt to take a sip of my coffee but find that the cup is empty. “Shit.” I tilt it back and forth, then let my hand drop to my side.
I guess Peter does know me pretty well because he takes the cup from my hands, sets it down on the canvas chair, and then threads his fingers through mine. It’s like he knows I need something to steady me, to occupy me.
“We still on for tonight?” he asks.
“Of course. We always have dinner together, right?”
Leaning into him, I feel his nod rather than see it. “Just checking. Thought you might be busy with all your important director stuff.”
I like the shyness I hear in his voice. “Yes. I’m totally too busy to eat with my . . . friend? Are we still just friends or have we—”
“I would classify our relationship as romantically linked or intimately intertwined.”
I grin into his chest. “Someday we should have sex.” When I feel his body tense in a familiar way. A giggle rumbles within me, but I suppress it.
“Yes, we should.” Peter kisses the top of my head. “When it’s time.” We stand there for a little while longer holding hands, but then he says, “Collette’s here.”
I pull away with a smile on my face. “Here we go,” I say quietly and then leave Peter standing next to my director’s chair to take my place in front of the cast and crew of this new movie set.
Chapter 68
I’ve done it! Today’s the last day of shooting, and I couldn’t be happier. I feel stupid walking around with such a cheesy smile on my face, but I can’t help it! I know there’s more to do. I have to edit, show it to Cole, probably reedit, get a relea
se date, promote and all the rest, but I did it!
***
“Cut. That’s a wrap,” I call out as I pull the headphones away from my ear.
The whole set bursts out into applause, hooting, and hollering. Liliana gives me two thumbs up and sticks her tongue out of her mouth as she winks. Before I can even move away from the camera, Peter’s got me in his arms, swinging me around in a hug.
When he sets me down, he grabs a hold of my hand and sort of presents me to the cast and crew who are still clapping like I just won some awesome award. But, it’s because we’re all thrilled with wrapping the film, and because they think I’ve done a decent job.
My face goes red from the attention, and I accept their praise. But they need to realize how important they were to my success, so I point to them as a group and clap for them.
I’m not one to cry easily, but tears burn in my eyes. Everyone has become like family to me, and I really mean it this time. Lili and Peter have always been, but now we’ve extended it to the rest of the team, and it’ll be sad not to see them after spending so much time together.
“Speech, speech!” they yell.
“Okay, okay, so good job, go home!” I wait for their chuckles to fade, before I continue. “Seriously, you all have worked so hard on this shoot. We had a short schedule and a small budget, but we’ve stayed true to both, and it wouldn’t have been possible with all of you doing such an awesome job. To the actors, what is to be said about what these fine performances? I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving it your all. And to the crew? Well, I don’t know much about lighting or sound or dollies or craft services or anything else, so I’m pleased as hell that I managed to get the expertise each and every one of you brought to set each day.”
Everyone claps again, but I hold my hands up. “Okay, that’s it. Let’s wrap up the cords and secure the cameras. I’ll see you all tonight at the party.”
It takes a little while for things to wind down. I make sure to have a personal word of thanks and appreciation to every single person on set before they head out. Everyone wants a hug or a handshake or both, and nearly everyone has kind words for me.
It has been quite an experience.
Finally, though, it ends up just being me, Peter, and few stragglers. I sit down next to him. “Quite a day, huh?”
“It’s been quite a couple of months. You know that no one was exaggerating when they say you did an amazing job, right? Because you were outstanding. I heard some of the crew talking about it at lunch.”
“Talking about what?”
“How much they want to be a part of the next film you direct. They were very impressed with how you handled your directorial debut.”
Something within my chest swells and makes me feel wonderful, appreciated, and valued. “Thank you for telling me that.”
He takes my hand. “I have something for you.”
“We’re supposed to wait for the wrap party to exchange—”
“Yeah, but you know me. I got you something small for the party, well, technically I made it, but—”
“You made me something!”
“Well, drew it, but I wanted to give you this in private.” He looks around at the few others lingering. “This is close enough.”
I’m incredibly excited to see what Peter’s drawn for me. He’s been putting more time into his art and I couldn’t be happier. But now, Peter digs into his pocket and pulls out a small black box. My heart stops for a moment and then starts beating rapidly. It’s much too early in our relationship for this sort of thing. As my limbs go numb in fear of him hopping out of his chair and getting down on one knee, Peter throws his head back and laughs.
“Stop freaking out. It’s not a ring.” He holds the box out to me, and I take it. “It’s better than a ring,” he says as he watches me open it.
Inside is a vintage silver chain with a circular pendant with the tree of life raised in relief. As I lift the delicate necklace and study the jewelry, I realize it’s not just a solid circle, it’s a locket. Carefully, I press the clasp, and with a little pop, it opens.
Inside are two photos—one of Peter and me as kids, maybe ten or eleven, and the other of us just a month ago. “Oh, Peter, I love it. This is just so . . . Oh, my God, it’s . . .”
He chuckles again, and brushes the hair away from my face. “I love it when I can take your words away. I found that locket right after you went into rehab, but then you said you didn’t want to see me, so I just held onto it. The tree represents our connection, how the roots feed the branches.”
“Am I the roots or the branches?”
He helps me put the necklace on and then cups my face. “You’re both. I’m both. We feed each other, right? Your roots make my branches grow. My branches give your roots shade and cover from the harsh world. Vice versa.”
I press my cheek into his palm. “That’s beautiful.”
Peter leans in and kisses me deeply. “And by the way, it was awfully cute how nervous you got when I pulled that box out of my pocket.”
“Shut it.”
“We haven’t even—”
“Shhhh.” I cut him off on purpose. I know he’s going to bring up the fact that despite being sober for well over a year and us having committed to a solid friendship and romantic relationship, we still haven’t had sex. I don’t want to acknowledge it because it’ll ruin the surprise I have for him.
“I got you something, too” I say. “But it’s not something I can pull out of my pocket.” I grab his hand as I stand up and tug him out of his chair too. “So come on.”
Hand in hand I lead him out of the studio to where I have bicycles waiting for us. I let go of his hand and place it on the handle bars of the smaller one.
“Two of them this time?” he asks. “Why not tandem again? I like you on the bars in front of me.”
Even though I smile at the soft shyness of his words, I tilt my head and give him a serious answer. “Because if I fall, I need to be able to pick myself up.”
He darts his eyes back and forth between mine as if he’s trying to find the answers of the universe within them. “Yeah, but it’s still okay to get help from others.”
“Help, yes, but depending on you to keep the bike in motion, to steer it correctly, and then pick us both up if we fall, that’s a lot of responsibility to place on you, and one of the things I’ve come to realize is that I need to be responsible for my own bike ride, you know?”
“We’re either talking about something crazy-deep, or you’ve given too much thought to this little trek through the studio lot.”
I swing my leg over the bike. “Come on.” I take off and know he’s following me. I lead us through the roads between huge warehouse-like studios to the little town set we used for our outside shots. Just like when we were kids, I made sure to have a bell tower in the set.
He’s smiling like a maniac when he sees me stop in front of it, and it doesn’t fade until we climb up and he sees the little scene I’ve set up for us. “Adra.”
There are a few blankets, a couple pillows, an unlit candle or two, and a basket full of food waiting for us.
“This is my surprise?”
I nod.
“I think this trumps the necklace.”
I bring my hand up to touch the locket. “Never.”
“This is awesome. I was going to do this very thing, too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Peter raises his shoulders and then lets them fall. He lowers himself down onto the blanket. “Because even though I know you’re my girlfriend, I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want. I figured when you were ready, you’d tell me.” He looks around again. “And you did.”
I deliberately bug out my eyes. “What? You think this is some kind of invitation to . . . to what, exactly? Sex? I just brought us here to eat an early dinner.”
Peter widens his eyes in panic as if he mistook the situation, and I can’t keep the smile off my face as I w
atch him shift uncomfortably.
“Now who’s freaking out? This is totally a booty call.”
He laughs as he reaches up and grasps my wrists. I let him pull me down and kiss my forehead. “This could never be a booty call, Adra. This is love.”
And what Peter shows me how true his words are. Love is exactly what this is, and when we’re sweaty and out of breath, every bit of tension I might have been holding before making love with Peter is gone and is replaced with a very sated, very blissful, very sleepy contentedness. He moves beneath me, and I am reminded of all the things that have to be done to prepare for tonight, but for the moment, I’m willing to make believe that this is the way it is in the movies. That all we need to do is close our eyes and drift off together until we awaken in our happily ever after.
Peter’s heart thumps against his chest and as much as I want him just to be still, he lifts me off his chest for just a moment, and when he returns to me, I let my eyes drift closed and focus solely on the feel of his body under mine, the sound of his blood moving fast through his veins, and the love that radiates from both of us.
“Peter.”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re my best friend.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Adra.”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re my everything.”
I smile against his chest. Although it seems natural to repeat his statement to him, I don’t. He is not my everything. Only I can be my everything. So instead, I say, “I love you, Peter.”
Chapter 69
Days, weeks, months, years, they all seem to fly by now. I’m almost happy I didn’t keep a journal during my darkest days. I’m not sure I could read them if they existed. Even so, I remember most of them, all except the lowest of low and darkest of dark days.
