Starstruck

by L. A. Witt

  But he could tear himself away. Find someone who wouldn’t be afraid to be seen in public with him.

  They could still be friends, but he needed to pull back. Spend a little less time with Levi and a little more finding someone he could connect with the way he wished they could connect.

  He needed to move on.

  I’m in hell.

  Holy fuck. I am in hell.

  Levi was stuck in a car. In line for the ferry. Three hours from home.

  With his parents.

  And they hadn’t wasted any time: Couldn’t he have parked closer to the terminal? Wasn’t he aware that the speed limit was sixty? The sign said the ferries were off that off-ramp—shouldn’t he have taken that off-ramp?

  He was convinced the biggest downside to the two of them sobering up was they were even more aware of everything he and his siblings did wrong.

  “Just be glad they don’t live near you,” his sister had reminded him on the phone this morning.

  Oh, I am. Every fucking day, I am.

  In the passenger seat, his mother played with the strap of her purse while she watched the ferry slowly approaching. “So, when do you start with this new television show?”

  “I start shooting a couple of days after you and Dad take off.” He tried not to think about how little time and energy he’d have to prepare—at least his first scenes were fairly short and without too many lines.

  “I don’t get what’s so big about that show.” His mother clicked her tongue. “Just sounds like The X-Files with werewolves.”

  “It’s a little more in-depth than that.” Levi tried to keep his tone light. “It’s work, though.”

  She scowled, but didn’t say anything. He forced himself not to roll his eyes. They’d both been after him for the last few years to get out of the house and do something. Neither approved of him sitting idle, even if money wasn’t an issue.

  And I care about their approval, why?

  Yeah. That wasn’t an argument he’d had with himself seven hundred times just since breakfast.

  He cleared his throat. “It might open some doors. For other roles.”

  “I see.”

  His dad leaned forward in the backseat. “I thought you were giving up all this acting business.”

  “I was, but I really like the series and the role they offered me, so . . .”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  His mother shifted in her seat. “I don’t know if I like your name being on a program that’s always got ‘gay this’ and ‘gay that’ attached to it.”

  Levi’s gut tightened with both aggravation and nerves, but he forced a laugh and shook his head. “It’s just the press, Mom. They latch on to anything they can, and turn it into something it’s not. You’ve seen all the stuff they’ve said about me.”

  “I have.” She eyed him. “And the last thing you need to do is give them more ammunition.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said dryly, and stared out the windshield as if he needed to focus straight ahead even though they were parked in a long row of waiting cars. “Even if the tabloids talk, they’ll eventually get bored and go find something else to sell their magazines.” I hope.

  “Damn vultures,” his dad muttered.

  Levi chuckled. He couldn’t agree more.

  “When does your play open? We’re going to see it, right?”

  “Of course.” Oh God. “It opens Friday night.” That was one of the reasons they’d chosen to come visit now, to see the play he was directing, but the thought of them in the audience—and in the car after the show—made his skin crawl.

  They wouldn’t come to all six showings, which was a plus. They’d stay back at the house, and he’d embrace his break from them.

  “Will we be meeting any of your . . . friends this time?”

  The mildly condescending and not so mildly suspicious edge to her voice almost brought a groan out of him.

  Oh Christ. Here we go.

  “Just the cast and crew at the play, if you’d like.”

  “I see.”

  He cringed. Damn their therapist—especially his willingness to do group sessions via Skype—and his insistence that they all communicate more. Because knowing his mother, that meant some “communication” in three . . . two . . .

  “Levi, I want you to be honest with me.”

  Damn it.

  “About?”

  “Honey, please. I know we’ve been through this, but I—”

  “Are you gay?” his father broke in.

  “No.” Levi had done this so many times, he could almost do it without cringing inside—he looked his mother in the eye and said, “Mom, I’m not gay.”

  Technically, he wasn’t lying, but who was he kidding? She wasn’t asking if he was exclusively into men. She was asking if he was into men at all. In her eyes, that meant he was gay, and he wasn’t about to argue with her about the finer points of homosexuality versus bisexuality.

  She pursed her lips, but didn’t respond.

  Levi rested his elbow on the steering wheel and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what more I can say to convince you.”

  “Well, if you dated a woman . . .”

  He laughed, hoping he didn’t sound as bitter as he felt. “Bluewater Bay’s a small town. There’s only so many—”

  “You’re a movie star, Levi.” She glared at him. “I don’t buy for a second that you can’t find someone there or anywhere else.”

  He ground his teeth and stared at the back window of the car parked in front of him. Christ, she hadn’t waited long. He supposed he could defuse some of the tension if he told her about Laura, the cop he’d gone out with a few months ago, or Casey, the park ranger he’d briefly dated last summer. But that would only bring on the interrogation about why it hadn’t worked out and why he hadn’t married either of them. It was easier to let his folks maintain their suspicions than it was to admit that he and Laura had been ridiculously incompatible in the bedroom or that Casey had been too much like his mom—complete with the alcoholism and estranged son.

  Before Levi could divert the conversation, engines started coming on. He glanced at the end of the dock, and sure enough, the ferry had pulled in and was beginning to unload. He turned the key, adding the Jeep’s idle to the collective rumble, and waited for the guys in orange vests to direct him onto the boat.

  Once he was parked, he set the brake. “I’m going to go up and use the restroom. Do you two want to stay down here?”

  His mother craned his neck to check with his dad in the backseat. “What do you think?”

  “We can stay down here. Just leave the motor going so there’s some air.”

  “Can’t do that. Coast Guard regs.” Levi opened the windows and then killed the engine. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  He left the Jeep and headed above decks as the ferry lurched into motion. He walked right past the restrooms and out to the bow. Hands on the railing, he gazed out at the water and breathed in the cool, salty breeze.

  Thank God the boat had arrived when it did. Those conversations were inevitable, and there would be more before his folks flew out in ten days.

  As the ferry slowly made its way across the water, Levi relaxed as much as he could expect to anytime soon. His parents meant well, but as their therapist had pointed out, they’d spent two and a half decades of their lives in an alcohol-induced blur. For all intents and purposes, they’d hit the pause button on their personal growth, and were twenty-five years behind on maturing. It was like they’d gone to sleep at twenty and woken up with three grown—and deeply resentful—kids. With all the shit the family had been through, it was a wonder anyone was still on speaking terms. Making it this far was nothing short of a miracle.

  He closed his eyes and let the wind rush against his face.

  This visit wouldn’t be all sunshine and roses, but it was good that they were here. Much as they stressed him out, this was a step forward. The frustration he felt in their presence today was nothin
g compared to what it would’ve been like five years ago. One visit and one conversation at a time, the Pritchard family was coming together, and there was nothing in the world he’d ever wanted more than a solid, functional family.

  “It’ll get better,” the therapist had reminded him during their last Skype session.

  It would. It already had.

  He just hated—hated—the fact that a huge piece of his identity was the equivalent of a rambunctious dog running around a table with a house of cards on it. One bump, and the whole thing would come down.

  Part of him wanted to believe he was exaggerating to himself. So what if they found out he wasn’t straight?

  The other part of him had watched them side with his ex-brother-in-law because apparently putting Levi’s sister in the hospital was less of a disgrace than her divorcing his sorry ass.

  He sighed, shaking his head, and then turned around to head back down to the car deck. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, and when he looked, he realized there was a text from Carter. He must not have felt it in the car.

  Your parents make it into town?

  He almost wrote Unfortunately, but that seemed like bad karma.

  They’re here. We’re on the ferry to Bainbridge.

  He sent the text and continued down to the car deck. Ten feet away from his Jeep, his phone buzzed again.

  Good luck. Feel free to text if you need someone to keep you sane.

  Levi smiled. Much appreciated.

  Within hours, Carter’s electronic presence became a lifeline. If not for their sporadic texts, Levi would have blown a fucking gasket. Of course he didn’t spend all his time staring at his phone, but they snagged a conversation here and there after Levi’s parents had turned in for the night and when Carter had a break on the set.

  They drive you crazy yet?

  Getting there.

  How’s your neck? Stress = pain?

  Going through frozen peas like they’re going out of style, but it’s not too bad.

  Got a number for a massage therapist in town. She’s a miracle worker. And she’ll give you a break for an hour.

  May just do that. Could use a break.

  Too bad you can’t slip away – just got a DVD of Canberra High.

  OMG. You’re killing me.

  LOL. I’ll bring it over after your folks leave.

  Looking forward to it. :-)

  Whew. Opening night is over.

  Nice! How did it go?

  Went great! Parents loved it too, which is a plus.

  Definitely a plus. Tried to get tickets – working every showing. :-(

  It’s ok. Maybe the next show.

  When does that one start?

  Ask me again once this one’s over.

  LOL.

  Heading out?

  Yep. Taking them to Victoria today.

  Dude, check out Craigdarroch Castle while you’re there.

  Yeah?

  It’s awesome. They’ll love it.

  Good to know. Thanks.

  NP. Visit going good?

  Up & down. They’re excited to see Canada, so today’s promising.

  Sweet. Gotta run – Director wants to reshoot a scene AGAIN.

  LOL. Have fun.

  Taking them out again today?

  Yep. Mom wants to shop in Sequim.

  Levi sent the message, and then set his phone on the empty weight bench. Carter must’ve been shooting early today—he usually didn’t text until well after ten, and it was only eight o’clock. Perfect timing as far as Levi was concerned. He’d been getting out of bed a little early himself to hit the weights before his folks woke up. It was nice to have some company, even if it was via text messages.

  While he waited for the reply to come through, Levi sat on the other weight bench, rested his elbow on his knee, and started doing curls.

  Halfway through his set, he heard footsteps, and he looked up as his dad appeared in the doorway. “Oh. Morning, Dad.”

  “Mornin’.” His father sipped his cup of coffee. “Your doctor know you’re doing all this?”

  Levi set the dumbbell at his feet. “She encourages it, actually.”

  “Does she?”

  “Keeps the muscles from getting weak and keeps everything stable.” Levi stood, rolling the fatigue and stiffness out of his shoulders. “As long as I don’t overdo it, I feel a lot better this way.”

  “I see.” His dad crossed the room and stood at the sliding glass door, gazing at the scenery. The view from here wasn’t nearly as spectacular as it was from upstairs, but the property was high up on a hill, and the thick forest wasn’t tall enough to hide the snowcapped Olympics entirely.

  Levi toweled the sweat off his face and surreptitiously watched his father, wondering what had brought him down here. Boredom? Curiosity? A mission from Mom?

  Without facing Levi, his dad asked, “You ever thought about selling this place? Coming back east?”

  Levi suppressed a shudder. “I like it here, Dad.” He braced for the criticism. The guilt. The “your mother misses you” and “we’re all trying to smooth things over, but it’d be easier if you weren’t three thousand miles away.”

  Almost a full minute passed before his dad spoke. “Maybe this place has done you good.”

  Levi blinked. “What?”

  His dad shrugged. “Well, I was concerned when you said you were leaving your career behind and coming clear out here, and again when you said you were picking up with this TV show, but . . .” He paused for a few long seconds. “You seem happier than you have in a long time.”

  Levi nodded. “I am. I’m really happy here.”

  “Good.” His dad nodded and murmured to himself, “Good, good.” Then he turned toward Levi. “Didn’t you say you had better chances in this business if you moved back to LA?”

  “Yeah, and that’s still true. But for now, I’ve got work here.”

  “So you do.” His father sipped his coffee. “If I recall from when you lived in Hollywood, your schedule is going to be very full. Will you, uh, still have time to attend our sessions?”

  “I can work something out with the director.”

  “Good. It means a lot to your mother.”

  What about you?

  “I’ll do what I can. I . . . want to keep going with the sessions too.” He hesitated. “Seems like it’s doing us all some good.”

  “It is.”

  Levi regarded him for a moment. “So you really don’t have any objections? To me working again and staying here?” He hardly needed his parents’ permission, but if he knew where they stood, maybe they could talk about things openly and honestly.

  “Of course.” His dad held his gaze and must’ve seen the skepticism in Levi’s eyes. “Your mom and I aren’t perfect parents, son. We never have been, and we never will be.” He put a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “But we want you kids to be happy. And if you’re happy here, and you like what you’re doing, I’m not going to try to talk you out of it.”

  Wow. That was definitely new.

  “Thanks,” Levi said softly.

  Silence set in, and an all-too-familiar sensation tightened in Levi’s chest. Whenever he and his dad had one of these close moments, where he was more like a son talking to his father than someone negotiating a tense peace with an adversary, he felt like this. Like courage was building up, his heart beating faster and faster. Should he take advantage of this moment to finally get this secret out of his mind and onto the table, or keep this tentative closeness alive?

  Dad, I’m gay.

  His mouth went dry.

  I need you to know.

  This is who I am. He looked up at his father. Do you still love me?

  Right then, his dad smiled, and Levi instantly lost his nerve. They had too few of these moments—he wasn’t ready to ruin this one.

  Coward . . .

  “Well. Anyway.” His father cleared his throat and gestured at the door with his coffee cup. “I’ll go make sure your mother’s awake
so we can get going.”

  “Sure. Right.”

  They locked eyes again, and then his dad left the room.

  Levi released a breath, rolling his shoulders as renewed tension tried to tighten his muscles. Funny how conversations like this were almost more stressful than the arguments. These calm, honest discussions carried with them pressure he still wasn’t sure how to cope with—that pressure to say the right thing, or at least not say the wrong thing, so the fragile peace didn’t come apart.

  He rolled his shoulders again and then sat back down on the weight bench to finish his set. Before he could pick up the dumbbell, though, his phone buzzed.

  As he picked up the phone, his father’s words echoed in his mind:

  “You seem happier than you have in a long time.”

  His heart fluttered at the sight of Carter’s name. The message was fairly benign—Oh cool, I’ve never been there—but nevertheless brought a smile to Levi’s face. It didn’t even matter that it was silly to be so thrilled by a simple text message.

  And as he typed a response—Gorgeous hiking. You should check it out—it occurred to him that it wasn’t just the distraction from his parents that he looked forward to between messages. Texts from anyone else would’ve been a welcome distraction, but these were another thing entirely.

  Because they came from Carter.

  His thumbs stopped abruptly, midmessage.

  “You seem happier than you have in a long time.”

  You might be onto something, Dad.

  Sorry for the radio silence. Just got home.

  Long day on set?

  OMG yes. Might need some frozen peas myself.

  Thought you had a stunt double.

  He’s going to need more than frozen peas.

  Oh shit! Is he ok?

  Yep. Just sore. Being Gabriel Hanford is not for the faint of heart.

  LOL. Apparently not.

  Just wait. Have you seen what happens to Max?

  God, I don’t even want to know.

  LOL. No, you don’t.

  Crap.

  2 more days. 2 more days.