Acting Up

by Kristin Wallace

  Aaron regarded her as one might a person whose mental state was in question. “Okay?”

  “My roots are showing.” She shoved her head closer. “Look.”

  Aaron obliged by examining the aforementioned roots. “What am I looking for anyway?”

  “You can see the dark hair.”

  Now his expression turned to one of supreme disgust. “You screamed because of that?”

  “Yes,” Addison said. “I’m supposed to have dinner with Julia and her family. I can’t go like this.”

  “You could let it grow out. Go with you natural color. Girls do it all the time.”

  Men. They had no clue. “Are you kidding? This head is worth a fortune. This is Addison Covington.”

  “So, go get your hair done,” Aaron said. “Or buy one of those boxed things.”

  Addison gasped in horror. “Are you insane? Do you realize this color was created just for me? It’s called Addison Gold.”

  “You could always call your stylist and fly him in. It’s what my mom would do.”

  For a moment Addison considered it. “There’s no time and besides, it might tip someone off to where I am.”

  Clearly, Aaron had had enough of this conversation because he started backing up. “Do what you want then. Just don’t scream again.”

  He left her to stew over the widening line of dark-brown hair. Finally, Addison grabbed her purse and headed down the stairs.

  “Aaron, watch over Ruth for a bit,” she called. “I’m going out.”

  Addison drove into town and parked in front of the Cut & Dye Salon, which sat next to the hardware store. Panic nearly had her pulling back out again. A hair salon next to a place selling hammers and screwdrivers seemed to go against the laws of nature. There was no choice, however.

  A little bell over the door announced Addison’s arrival. Six heads belonging to women ranging in age from forty-five to one hundred five swiveled in her direction. Two of the women were in curlers, sitting under those old-fashioned, bowl-shaped hairdryers. Two more were reading magazines as they waited for their turn. One was getting her hair shampooed, and the final lady was in the stylist’s chair. The young woman standing behind the chair froze, scissors poised in the air. A second woman at the sink continued washing, but never took her eyes off Addison.

  After giving each woman a smile, Addison addressed the woman in charge. “Hi. I don’t have an appointment, but I wondered if you might work me in?”

  The woman’s mouth dropped open. “For real?”

  Addison smoothed a hand down her hair. “You’re my only hope.”

  The hairdresser approached in a reverent manner, as if she were about to meet the queen. She didn’t speak but examined Addison’s hair, including the pitiful roots.

  “What color is this?” she asked.

  “Addison Gold.”

  “You’ve got your own shade?” the hairdresser asked, eyes going huge.

  “Yes. Can you help me?”

  The hairdresser stepped back. Walked all the way around. “It’s nice, but I think we should take you a little more golden,” she said finally. “It’ll go better with your skin tone. This color makes you look brittle and harsh. Adds years, too.”

  Good grief, the country hairdresser was giving her styling tips. Jean-Lüc would slice his wrists if he ever heard.

  “The producers wanted me to look older and tougher,” Addison explained.

  “Maybe it’s time to soften up then.”

  ****

  “A white picket fence,” Addison marveled, as she stared at Julia’s stepmother’s house.

  The house had all the earmarks of a Norman Rockwell postcard, from the fence and flower boxes in the windows, to the wide covered porch with a swing.

  Stealing another glance in the rearview mirror, Addison pushed a strand of her now more-golden-than-platinum-colored hair behind her shoulder. The hairdresser had been right. The shade did suit her skin tone better, and true to her promise, the color had taken several years off. Addison now looked more like a California surfer girl than a hard-as-nails fashion maven. She grabbed the bouquet of flowers she’d purchased at the florist in town and climbed out of the car.

  A brick path led up to the front porch. Rose bushes and night-blooming jasmine festooned the area along the porch, and the scent was intoxicating. Addison grinned at the sight of the welcome mat in front of the door. Of course, there was a mat. She rang the bell and waited.

  Julia flung the door open a moment later. “I am so sorry.”

  As a conversation starter, it was unexpected. “What?”

  Julia took Addison’s arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door with a snap. “We’ve got a couple extra houseguests,” Julia said in a half-whisper, like they were in a library.

  “Well, that’s no problem,” Addison said, lowering her own voice.

  “Oh, yes, it is,” Julia said, in a grim tone. “You see, I invited someone, but then my sister took it upon herself to invite her own guest.”

  The edge of panic seemed exaggerated. What did it matter if a couple more people showed up? Then Addison entered the living room, and all immediately became clear. The first person she saw was Ethan. The second was Carrie Rogers. Since she’d arrived earlier, Carrie had already staked her claim on Ethan by taking the space next to him on the loveseat.

  Managing to hide her surprise, Addison turned to greet the other guests. She recognized Seth, of course, and she’d met Julia’s stepsister at the fair. The baby was with her again, but this time Sarah had an extra accessory. A tall, sandy-blond-haired man.

  Julia performed the introductions. “Addison, this is Sarah’s husband, Eric.”

  He shook her hand. “Hi… wow!”

  Julia chuckled at her brother-in-law’s stupefied look, even as she switched her attention to the baby, who was attached to Sarah’s hip. “And you remember this little angel.”

  “Of course.” Addison wiggled the baby’s toes, earning a happy giggle.

  An older couple sat on the couch, and Julia performed introductions again. “My stepmother, Grace, and her husband, John Graham. Seth’s father.”

  His what? “You’re dating your stepmother’s stepson?” Addison asked in astonishment.

  “You’re not the only one with an interesting family,” Julia said, in a voice seeped with sarcasm.

  Finally, Addison had no choice but to greet Carrie. The woman didn’t shake hands but managed a civil hello. Somehow, she managed to shift her body so she was practically plastered to Ethan’s side. A neat trick indeed, only he ruined the effort by standing up.

  “Did you get your aunt home all right?” Ethan asked.

  “We did,” Addison said. “She was a bit uncomfortable after the trip, but she seems to be getting her strength back now.”

  Ethan opened his mouth to say something else then stopped, giving her a puzzled once-over. “You look different.” His studied her some more then snapped his fingers. “You did something to your hair.”

  Flustered, Addison fingered the new cut. “I had it done.”

  Julia turned in surprise. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice. You went to Brenda Sue downtown?”

  Addison nodded.

  “She’s a genius. I wouldn’t let anyone else touch my hair.” Julia examined the new do. “It’s lovely. Isn’t she lovely, Ethan?”

  “Addison always looks lovely,” he said, giving Julia a pointed, cut-it-out look.

  Thankfully, Grace smoothed over the awkward pause by excusing herself to check on dinner. Carrie continued perfecting her portrayal of a human leech so Addison retreated to the couch where Seth sat with his father. John Graham had suffered a stroke last year so his words were halting, but nothing could dim the intelligence and warmth in his eyes.

  Five minutes later, Grace announced dinner was ready to be served. Addison couldn’t remember when she’d had more fun at a dinner party. Grace’s charm enveloped the table. Julia kept everyone regaled with stories of the latest bridezilla
s she’d encountered at Marry Me. Sarah, who was the founder and owner of the business, obviously played the Grace role at work, providing a steady, calming influence. The two seemed to complement each other well.

  Sarah was distracted most of the meal, as she was feeding the baby what looked like pureed orange mud. Addison’s gaze drifted down the table again and again. By now, little Mary had a good coating of food all over her head. When Sarah didn’t move quickly enough with the spoon, the little tyke would pound her high chair and screech.

  As the dishes were being cleared away from the table, Sarah slipped away to mop up her daughter. Grace, Julia, and Seth disappeared into the kitchen to clean up. The rest of the party moved to the living room. John Graham eased into his chair while Carrie was engaged in a conversation with Sarah’s husband and Ethan.

  At Addison’s entry, Ethan sent her a silent plea, which she ignored with a playful smile. A couple minutes later, Seth emerged from the kitchen carrying a large silver coffee tray. Addison accepted the dark, rich brew and doctored hers with cream and sugar.

  Sarah came back in with a de-carroted baby as Addison was taking her first sip. The little girl had also undergone a wardrobe change and now sported a footed Onesie with pink flowers on it.

  Sarah drifted over to the fireplace. “How are things going with the play?”

  “Not too bad,” Addison said, her gaze drifting toward the baby.

  “Would you like to hold her?” Sarah asked.

  An inward scream of panic pinged through Addison’s being. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

  “Don’t worry. Mary is a great baby. Loves everyone.”

  Quick as lightning, Sarah shifted the baby over, leaving Addison holding a twenty-pound, toothless, powdery-scented person. She held the baby out a few feet from her body, and the girl’s little feet dangled in the air.

  Sarah chuckled, repositioning Addison’s arms so the baby straddled her hip. “She likes to be held like this.”

  “Hey, Sarah, come here,” Julia called out.

  “Be right back,” Sarah said, with a wink.

  “Wait! You can’t leave—”

  Except she did leave Addison literally holding the bag. Or baby, as it were. She stared down at the tiny human. Mary was sturdier than she appeared. Solid, but soft.

  “Your mother has left you with a total stranger,” Addison informed the baby. “How do you like that?”

  Mary grinned, showing a mouth full of pink gums and saliva.

  “So, what do we do now?”

  The tyke had no answer. Simply stared right back, and Addison had the whimsical notion the baby could see right through to her soul.

  After a moment Mary put her head down on Addison’s shoulder and let out a tiny baby sigh. Addison drew in a shocked breath as the girl’s scent enveloped her. Part powder, part soap, part sunshine.

  This must be what heaven smells like.

  A long buried memory stirred, and a dark cloud of grief welled up, threatening to choke her.

  Arms shaking, eyes burning, Addison shoved the baby at Grace. “Take her, please.”

  Thankfully, Addison managed to escape onto the back porch before she embarrassed herself. Focusing on the moon overhead, she pulled in several gulps of air, willing herself to calm down. To bury the memory of the new life she’d never planned on or wanted.

  Until it was gone.

  ****

  For Ethan, the night had been sheer torture. The torture of being close to Addison but not able to talk to her. She’d kept her distance. Or perhaps kept her distance from Carrie, who’d clung to him all night like a boa constrictor wrapping around a mouse.

  If the bachelor auction hadn’t cemented the notion, there could no longer be any doubt Carrie wanted to change her friend status.

  Even so, Ethan couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the golden-haired goddess across the room. Not the famous celebrity Addison, but the real woman, who seemed softer and more approachable now. A softness that had nothing to do with a trip to a hair salon. Since his senses were so in tune with her movements, Ethan noticed when Sarah deposited the baby into Addison’s arms. Panic held her rigid. Mary put her head on Addison’s shoulder, and terror slowly turned to wonder.

  Then wonder became anguish. There was no other way to describe the sudden expression on her face. She shoved the baby at Grace and escaped.

  Ethan’s feet moved before his brain even sent a signal.

  He followed her outside, spotting her clinging to the railing on the back porch. “Addison?”

  Her shoulders tensed, and she swiped a hand across her face. “I was getting some air.”

  Air? No way did Ethan believe such a mundane excuse. He settled his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

  “I saw you run out.” His heart stopped at the sight of her tears. With gentle fingers, he wiped them away. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, you know, more of my past coming back to haunt me.”

  “Something about your dad?”

  “No. It was the baby.”

  “Why would Mary freak you out?”

  “She shouldn’t. I didn’t think I cared anymore. Then I was holding her, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. All I felt was a horrible, overwhelming sadness. Over something I never even wanted.”

  “You’ve lost me,” he said, massaging her shoulders.

  A long pause ensued, and then she sighed. “I was pregnant five years ago.”

  The news came as a shock. “I never knew.”

  “Not many people did.”

  “You don’t have children, do you?” Ethan asked, unable to stop the train of suspicious thoughts.

  Sparks seemed to vibrate off of Addison’s skin as she glared at him. “What? Do you think I have a secret kid stashed away somewhere? Thanks a lot,” she said, pushing against his chest.

  “It’s not unheard of,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. “Especially if you had an image to maintain on the show.”

  “Funny, that’s exactly what Merrick said. Right before he told me to get rid of it.”

  Ethan went still. “Get rid of it as in—”

  “An abortion, yes.”

  Some people should be drowned at birth. “If your husband were here right now, I’d be tempted to take him apart,” he said. “I can’t believe you would agree.”

  “Thank you for that, at least. I refused, but as it turned out, neither of us had to worry about my career. I had a miscarriage three weeks later.”

  Which explained the haunted expression. What a secret to carry around. A tragedy she couldn’t even talk about.

  “I’m sorry. Jenny and I tried for years to have a baby. We went through two miscarriages before the twins were finally born. I’m not sure anyone realized how devastating it was. Especially for her. Jenny always wanted a big family.”

  Ethan shuddered to remember those awful days after the babies were gone. Jenny had been inconsolable for weeks, to the point where she hadn’t even wanted him to touch her. A part of her had grieved those missing children until the day she’d died.

  “I didn’t,” Addison said. “I was too focused on my career. I never melted at the sight of a baby. To me they were more like crying, burping, smelly aliens. Then that stick turned blue. I’m sure Merrick was right. The timing was wrong. It would have been complicated, and maybe even interfered with the show, but suddenly I didn’t care.”

  “That little stick changes your life, doesn’t it?” Ethan asked, thinking of the moment when his sons were born. The overwhelming love, mixed with outright terror knowing he was responsible for two helpless human beings. After all the disappointments and the losses, to finally hold his precious boys had been nothing short of miraculous.

  “It certainly changed mine,” Addison said. “Changed my marriage, too. Looking back, I think that might have been the beginning of the end. Something died between Merrick and me, and we never recovered.”

  “No wonder. To sugge
st something so—” He took a deep breath. “I can’t imagine a world without my boys.”

  “That’s what makes you a good man.”

  “It’s what makes me a father.”

  A dry chuckle escaped. “Ironically, Merrick is going to be a father again, after all. America’s sweetheart is pregnant.”

  “What?”

  “Angela told me on the set. Gleefully informed me she was two months pregnant and that Merrick was thrilled. He’d already gone out and started buying baby things.”

  A key slid into the slot, unlocking another secret in Addison’s life. “Let me guess, that’s when you punched her.”

  “Bingo,” Addison said. “All I could hear in my head was Merrick telling me to take care of the situation with my baby when he was doing cartwheels over Angela’s baby. Before I knew it, my arm was swinging.”