Love's Encore Series (Books One and Two)

by Miranda MacLeod

  “Yes, but clearly my mother is not dead.”

  “Well, clearly not. Except technically, she is. But don’t worry, we’ll get it all straightened out. It’s just…”

  “Just what?” But she already knew the answer. Rorie’s thoughts raced to the savings account that was uncomfortably close to zero after the other Grace Mulloy walked off with her check. “You need someone to pay the bill.”

  “Just until it gets sorted out.” He smiled reassuringly at Rorie and then at Cecily. “We take credit cards or personal checks,” he added helpfully.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet you do,” Rorie mumbled. “So, how much does a fine, organized facility such as this run, anyway?”

  “Twelve thousand.”

  It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. “Okay, so, twelve thousand a year, divided by twelve months, is a thousand dollars.” She reached for the checkbook in her purse. She could cover that amount, barely.

  “Per month.”

  Rorie drew in her breath sharply. “I’m sorry, did you say twelve thousand per month? I can’t afford to pay that.”

  “I’ve got it.” Cecily’s voice rang out clearly. She handed him her credit card. “I’ll need a receipt, please.”

  “Cici, you can’t put twelve thousand dollars on your card like that,” Rorie said when the director left the room.

  “Why not? I distinctly remember you telling me this summer that that’s what normal people did in emergencies. This seems like an emergency.”

  “I’ll pay you back, just as soon as we track down my fake mother.” Rorie looked down at the floor in embarrassment, knowing how unlikely that was to ever happen.

  Cecily rested her hand on Rorie’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.”

  Rorie turned her head and pressed her lips against Cecily’s hand. “I guess there are advantages to dating a big Hollywood celebrity. I never thought I'd say it, but thank goodness for Portland Blue.”

  It was Cecily’s turn to look at the floor and blush. “About that. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I may be back in southern California sooner than I thought.”

  Chapter 22

  The crowd in the living room sat, stunned, all eyes fixed on the flickering television screen. Finally, a gasping cry broke through the silence, like the strangled mewl of a kitten searching for its lost mother.

  “How could they kill Laura?” Frankie wailed. “That’s it! I’ll never watch Portland Blue again.”

  Her sentiment was echoed in the sounds of sniffling that filled the room.

  “Oh, man, the way she’d finally realized her true feelings for Diane…” Peggy added. “And overcome that cancer scare just a couple episodes ago. I really thought they were gonna let her live after the tumor turned out to be benign.”

  Dee yanked a tissue from a box on Rorie’s coffee table and blew her nose with violent force. “Yeah, killing her off like that was absolutely awful. You were great, though.”

  “Yeah, Cecily, you were brilliant,” Lu added, and Cecily felt her cheeks tingle with a rush of pride as the rest of the women nodded in agreement.

  “Thanks, guys. I was a little worried inviting you over for a viewing party tonight. I wasn’t sure what you’d think.” Cecily smiled as she looked around the room at their friends. She really had been nervous about them coming over, but their support made her glow inside. “I guess I can officially announce that I’m back home to stay.” She giggled as Rorie’s hand lightly squeezed her knee. Rorie had been thrilled at the prospect of her coming home since they’d first discussed it in Louisiana. She’d been back in town for two weeks now, and though she’d been sad to say goodbye to the Portland Blue cast and crew who’d come to feel like family to her, she’d missed her real family more. As seductive as celebrity could be, she was glad things had worked out the way they did.

  “Well, welcome home.” The fact that these words came from Rhonda made them feel even more meaningful. “All right, ladies, are we ready to tally the points?”

  Frankie pulled a notebook and pen from her bag. “Okay, let’s see. Rhonda and Lu both had Laura on their list, so five points for each of you. And Lu gets an extra point for guessing it would happen in March.”

  Lu clapped her hands together while Rhonda shrugged. “Laura’s demise was inevitable from the minute the pictures of these two lovebirds smooching over dinner hit the front page of the tabloids. But I thought they’d hold off until the season finale in April.”

  Frankie consulted her list again. “One point to Dee for selecting dying in her girlfriend’s arms as this year’s most popular lesbian death trope, and one point to Rorie for shot through the heart to be this year’s most frequent manner of death.”

  “Wait!” Rhonda narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Should she get points for this one? She had an inside scoop.”

  “Yeah, but that category isn’t specific to this show. She filled that part out before Cecily’s character became a lesbian,” Peggy argued. “I think it should count.”

  Rorie shrugged. “Whatever you guys decide, I don’t mind either way. I’ve already got my prize from this episode.” She slid her hand to Cecily’s thigh and tightened her grip, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Stop that!” Cecily’s face blushed crimson as she swatted at Rorie’s hand. “Wait, there’s a prize for this game? I want to play!”

  Frankie nodded. “Of course there’s a prize. But you’ll have to wait until the fall to start the new round. We’re too far into this year’s game to make it worth your ten dollar entry fee.”

  “Ten dollars? Isn’t there a discount if you’re unemployed?” Cecily teased. “From what everyone’s told me, I’ll never work again, now that Hollywood knows I’m a lesbian.”

  “Oh, no. You’ll work,” Frankie assured her. “You’ll just die a lot in really gruesome ways. But on the bright side, you’re good at it! Tonight’s episode was like an audition tape, and trust me, producers are gonna go nuts over it. I bet you’ll be getting calls right and left. So how are you at…” Frankie picked up her list, cleared her throat, and read, “Getting bludgeoned by a jealous lover? Or, being pushed down the stairs? Getting impaled isn’t as hot as it was a few years ago, but it might be primed for a comeback…”

  “Impalement. That one seems a little too Freudian, don’t you think?” Rhonda quipped. “Very phallic.”

  “Those are all real story lines?” Cecily couldn’t remember any of these from the research she’d done. She felt embarrassed to remember how she had binge watched every lesbian-themed movie and TV show she could get her hands on before moving from Connecticut just so she wouldn’t feel out of place when meeting this roomful of women she now considered good friends.

  “Every single one of those has happened on TV, more than once.” Frankie shrugged. “You can’t make that shit up.”

  “Technically, making shit up is exactly what they do,” Rhonda contradicted. “Seriously, when was the last time you lost a girlfriend to impalement?”

  “Not as recently as you.” Frankie deadpanned. Laughter rang out around the room at the group’s favorite running joke. Frankie ducked as Rhonda chucked a handful of popcorn kernels at her head, then turned her attention back to Cecily. “So, what are your plans now, Cecily? Will you be back on the audition circuit soon?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ve got steady work on the animated series at Grant Studios, even if the pay isn’t as good as Portland Blue. I’m still toying with the idea of setting up a recording studio and starting my own voice acting business. But,” she glanced at Rorie, “between hoping for word on Rorie’s sister and finding a better facility for Rorie’s mother, there’s a lot of uncertainty.”

  She felt a flutter of nerves at the thought of the next twelve thousand dollar payment that was about to come due to Grace’s current facility. If the insurance issue dragged on much longer, it would pose a real threat to her determination to leave her investment portfolio untouched for her first year on her own. Though the pay on Portl
and Blue had been generous, each episode only represented about two weeks of Grace’s care. They would blow through everything she’d saved in no time, and what she made from Grant Studios did little more than cover Cecily’s own bills. She knew Rorie’s financial outlook was not much better.

  “So, you never found that bitch who stole Rorie's money?” Lu asked.

  “Fake Mom?” Cecily shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “The investigator found out who she was,” Rorie added, “but not where she went.”

  Lu wrinkled her nose. “Who would do something as twisted as that?”

  “Someone with an extensive criminal record. Turns out she did occasional alterations for the wardrobe department of some cable series that films in Minnesota, so that part of her story wasn't a lie,” Cecily explained. “Which is how she saw the Backstage Pass article, presumably. We should have known only an entertainment industry person would read that magazine. She must have realized that she looked like Rorie enough to give her the idea.”

  “Man, that is one crazy story,” Lu said with a whistle. “What I wouldn't give to turn that into a screenplay.”

  “You should!” Cecily's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the suggestion. It would make a great movie.

  “Like I could find anyone willing to produce it.” Lu rolled her eyes. “It's hard enough to get your screenplay taken seriously as a woman, but if it isn't ninety percent CGI special effects, forget it.”

  The conversation quickly turned to the many woes of working in Hollywood, a topic that stretched on for several hours. Once their guests had departed, Cecily cuddled up with Rorie on the couch, her head resting on Rorie’s shoulder. “That was fun. I’m glad your friends seem to like me. It felt like Rhonda has thawed toward me, at least a little.”

  “I think seeing the lengths you were willing to go to in making our relationship public finally convinced her that you were legit.”

  “Even if it did sink my career, I think it was worth it, just for that.”

  Rorie placed a kiss on the top of Cecily’s head. “You worried about finding work?”

  “A little.” Cecily’s voice betrayed her weariness at grappling with constant career and money concerns. “Especially after everything we were talking about tonight. It’s just, I already knew it would be hard to support myself when it was the normal things, like food and shelter. This issue with your mother adds a whole other level of complication. So, yeah. It worries me.” Being unemployed, Cecily had more free time than Rorie did, and researching options for Grace’s living arrangements and treatment had been her first priority. But after two weeks, the perfect solution had yet to present itself.

  Rorie shifted to look into Cecily’s eyes. “You don’t have to take this on, Cici. As much as I love you for it, this isn’t your responsibility. Pop’s got his military pension and a small annuity, and I could borrow against the equity in the house. If we moved her to a less expensive facility, we could manage.”

  Cecily sat up straighter, an expression of determination on her face. “Rorie, no. Remember what her caseworker said? With more specialized treatment, her condition could improve greatly. Let's face it, she’s already not getting the best care where she is. That place is an organizational disaster. There’s no way moving her somewhere cheaper is going to make the situation better.”

  Rorie sighed. “Affordability aside, I’m not convinced there are many facilities out there that are better than where she is. It’s not easy to find good mental health programs, and her condition is rare. I’m trying not to get my hopes up that she’ll ever improve.”

  “Don’t give up yet, sweetheart.” Cecily took Rorie’s hand. “My research turned up a couple of promising facilities. There’s one not too far from here, in Temecula. A doctor there published a paper on treating catatonic schizophrenia recently. I’ve asked them to send me some brochures.” What she didn’t mention was that this particular facility didn’t accept Medicare. If it turned out to be the perfect place for Grace, they would be on their own to pay for it.

  “Temecula?” Rorie’s face brightened. “Pop would like that. He’s dying to see her, and that’s an easy drive from San Diego.” Rorie gave Cecily a quizzical look at the sound of her soft chuckle. “What is it?”

  “I was just thinking, what if your parents get another chance to be together, just like we did?”

  “You’re a hopeless romantic, Cici.” Rorie leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her lips.

  “It could be like a fairy tale.”

  Rorie snorted. “I think you’re getting carried away. But speaking of fairy tales, that reminds me, how did your research go into home recording booths?”

  Cecily groaned, remembering with an accompanying wave of revulsion the erotic fairy tales she’d almost been roped into recording. “Am I ever going to be able to separate the idea of fairy tales from the memory of those awful books?”

  “I think once a connection that scarring is made, it can never be undone.”

  “I think you’re right,” she said with a shudder. “But the research is coming along. I found a company that can do a whole set up—the booth, the electronic equipment, and everything. They even deliver and put it together. The only drawback is the cost. It’s enough to pay your mom’s expenses for weeks.”

  Rorie’s brow was etched with concern. “Cici, listen to me. You can’t think about things in those terms. A recording booth is an investment in your career. You can’t sacrifice that to buy my mom a few more weeks. If getting this voice acting business off the ground is your best option, that’s what you should do”

  “There might…” Cecily hesitated. “There could be another option. I didn’t want to mention it with our friends here, but I got a message from Jonas earlier.”

  Rorie groaned. “Not Jonas. Weren’t you looking for a new agent?”

  Cecily shrugged. “Unfortunately, he really is the best. The slimy bastard. And he’s got a producer who wants to talk to me about a recurring role on a show for the fall.”

  “That should be good news. So, what’s the catch?” Rorie studied her warily.

  Cecily grimaced and closed her eyes. “It’s filming on location in New Mexico.” She let one eye pop open to catch her girlfriend’s response.

  “New Mexico?” A stricken look crossed Rorie’s face. “But I thought you wanted to stay close to home.”

  “I do. But this isn’t the type of thing an actor can pass up easily, you know. It’s a once in a lifetime chance.”

  “That’s what you said last time,” Rorie pouted. “Which makes me think these opportunities won’t be as rare as you seem to think. They film hundreds of shows in LA. You could at least try to get one of them, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not sold on New Mexico, either. But the possibility of another TV role is tempting. Voice acting is okay, but when I was on Portland Blue it was…I don't know. Thrilling, I guess. That sounds stupid.”

  “It doesn't sound stupid. But, New Mexico?”

  “I know.” Cecily hung her head. “But what if it's my only chance?”

  “I just thought with the long distance stuff behind us, we might have more time to focus on us. It feels like we’re never going to get to the next level at this rate.” Rorie ended with a pout.

  “You make our relationship sound like a video game when you say that. But…my lease is up in three months. So maybe we should discuss me moving in here.”

  Rorie raised her eyebrows, looking skeptical. “You’re ready for that? You sure you won’t need space, or independence, or whatever?”

  Cecily gave her a withering look. “That’s not what having my own place was about, and you know it. I just needed to learn more about myself before taking that step.”

  “And you’ve learned what you needed?”

  “I’ve learned that I can take care of myself if I have to, but we’re both better when we’re taking care of each other.”

  With an early call time at Grant Studios the next morning, Cecily
faced the lonely drive back to her house that night with a heavy heart. She’d joked with Rorie about her use of the word level when describing their relationship, but that didn’t mean she didn’t share her girlfriend’s sentiment. The time had come for them to start building their future together in earnest. Cecily felt that deeply. But the degree of uncertainty in those future plans weighed on her, as did the knowledge of how much of it was of her own making.

  When she’d moved to southern California nine months ago, she’d had her reasons for making the choices she did. She was newly divorced after eighteen years in a loveless marriage. She’d never paid a bill on her own, or had a job, or so much as called a plumber to fix a leaky faucet. When she compared herself to accomplished, self-made women like Rorie, she didn’t like she what she saw in herself. Taking away every potential crutch was the only way she could think of to become the woman she wanted to be. She’d come a long way. But was it far enough, or did she need to keep challenging herself to reach her goal?

  The fact was, Cecily had an easy solution to the uncertainty that faced them, and it was available to her at the touch of a button. One call to her financial adviser in Connecticut would erase pretty much any money-related concerns they might have. A facility for Rorie’s mother? If the very best one in the country wasn’t good enough, she could buy Grace a quiet house in the country and hire a full team of specialists to provide exactly the care she needed.

  Why stop there? She didn’t need to settle for a pre-fab recording booth in her house and auditioning for boring commercials to pay the bills. Hell, she didn’t need to commute to Grant Studios, or even take a role in New Mexico. She thought of Lu's comment earlier about how no one would fund quality entertainment. Well, she could afford to start her own production company if she wanted to, and choose exactly the projects she wanted to do. How many lesbian actors had to take on less than ideal projects because Hollywood didn’t offer roles for them? Cecily could change that.