His voice was muffled. “Yeah, another Stoly martini, babe . . . three olives. Sorry, Ruby. Anyway, what is this shit about you not turning in the article? Tell me Maudeen wasnt listening well. ”
“Oh, that. Im not going to deliver, thats all. ”
“Thats all. Thats all? Look comedy princess, this isnt some low-rent vanity-press publisher were talking about. This is Cache magazine. Theyve reserved the space in the issue, printed the cover-with your picture on it, I might add-and leaked the story. ” He paused; she heard the exhalation of smoke into the receiver.
“And Ive gotten some interest in you from the networks; NBC wants to talk to you about writing a pilot. "
“A . . . pilot? My own sitcom?” Ruby felt sick. That had always been a pie-in-the-sky dream of hers. Every comedian dreamed about her own show.
“Yeah, your own sitcom. So, no dicking around. Youre supposed to deliver the article tomorrow. I FedExed your plane tickets yesterday. Theyre probably on your front door now. Youre scheduled for Sarah Purcell on Monday morning. ”
“I cant do it, Val. ” Ruby closed her eyes. In that minute, she could feel the warm imprint of her mothers hand on her head, the gentleness of that touch. Panic rushed through her.
Val drew in a deep breath, then exhale slowly. “Christ. I knew you were a pain in the ass, but I promised them you were professional. I gave them my word, Ruby. ”
“I am a professional. ” Even to her own ears the voice sounded small. Afraid.
“Professionals dont take money from national magazines and then break the contract. Can you pay them back?”
Ruby flinched, thinking of the Porsche in her parking spot, the designer dress in her closet, the money she gave her dad. "If theyll give me some time-Like, twenty years.
“It doesnt work that way. The only chance of getting out of this deal is to pay them back, and even then they have to agree. And baby doll, they wont. ”
“You mean they can force me-”
Val laughed. “Where have you been living Potatoville, USA? This is big business. You cant just change your mind. Is it written?”
She hated the weakness that made her answer.
“Yes. ”
“And the problem is . . . ”
Ruby felt like crying. “I like her. ” She swallowed thickly. “No. I love her. ”
Val was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Im sorry, Ruby. ”
His concern was harder to take than the yelling. “I am, too,” she answered dully.
“Youll be on the plane then, right? Ill have Bertram pick you up. ”
Ruby hung up the phone in a daze. She wandered out onto the porch, found the FedEx envelope. Inside, there was a first-class ticket and a short itinerary. They were taking her to Spago to celebrate after the taping of Sarah Purcell . . .
A week ago that would have thrilled her.
She walked dully past her mothers door. At the last minute, she stopped, pressed her fingertips to the wood.
“Im sorry,” Ruby breathed. But she knew those two little words wouldnt be enough. Not nearly enough.
With a sigh, she turned and went upstairs. She flopped onto the bed and tried to sleep, but she couldnt keep her eyes closed. At last, she flicked on the light and reached for her pad of paper.
I just got off the phone with my agent.
The joke is on me, it seems. I cant get out of this deal. I have to deliver the article as promised or some corporate Mr. Big will sue me until I bleed.
And I will lose my mother this woman whom Ive waited and longed for all of my life, whom Ive alternately fled and vilified. Whatever we couldve have become will be gone. And this time it will be all my fault. The whole world will see the bankruptcy of my soul.
I finally learned that life is not made up of big moments and sudden epiphanies, but rather of tiny bits of time, some so small they pass by unnoticed.