Hollywood's Secret Baby

Right now, I’m feeling the same thing times a thousand.

My little girl is facing the idea that her own father doesn’t like her.

“Is that why he never came back?” she’s saying, sniffling as I wrap her up in my arms. “That’s why he never told me the truth. Was he ever going to tell me?”

Now she’s full on crying. We both are. And the worst part is that I don’t have a definitive answer. I’m 99.999% sure he was going to tell her eventually, but the same niggling fear that’s made me wonder again and again why he couldn’t say that he loves me back earlier today has me not able to say, without a doubt, that Cory was going to eventually come out with the truth.

So, I lie.

“We were looking for the right time to tell you. Things with adults are crazy confusing. Your dad and I are trying to figure out where we stand, and once we got that figured out, we were going to tell you.”

She nods against me, but then asks, “So he does like me?”

A half sob, half laugh erupts out of me like a burp I couldn’t hold back. My smile salty with tears, I answer, “He definitely likes you. In fact, I’m pretty sure you replaced me as his new best friend.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I was too scared to get on any of the rides back at Disneyland, but you were right there next to him. He loved that.”

“Do you think we can all go back again? With Sarah too?”

“You like Sarah, don’t you?”

Lizzie nods hard at this. “She’s so cool.” Then she seems to remember something because she sheepishly adds, “That’s why I drank the champagne. I saw her doing it, and she looked so cool, so I just wanted to taste it.”

“I can’t deny her coolness, but I hope you learned your lesson.”

Lizzie nods. “Alcoh

ol sucks.”

“Exactly.”

A thunderous applause comes from downstairs. We both look towards the closed door.

“You can go back down there,” Lizzie says. “I’ll be fine up here.”

I don’t want to leave her, but she does seem to be sobering up at least. More than likely she’s just going to fall asleep watching TV.

I grab her phone from the side table and put it beside her on the bed. “You call me if you need anything, alright? There’s a trashcan next to you if you feel sick again.” I place a kiss on her forehead before standing up. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m good,” she says, but there’s a hesitation. Something left unsaid. “Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?” I’m looking in the mirror after changing into the nicest thing I could find in my suitcase, which is the gray skirt and jacket I wore most often when teaching on public TV. It makes me look like a grade school teacher rather than an actress, but with Sarah’s dress soaked in vomit, I don’t really have any other choice.

“It would be pretty cool if Cory wanted to be my dad. For real, I mean.”

And in an instant, all my thoughts about what I’m going to say once I get downstairs to excuse my long absence are gone. The outside world and its worries fade away. It’s just me and my daughter. Like it’s been for the past ten years.

“That would be super cool,” I say. “Let’s talk to him when we get a chance.”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.” I hate that I can’t promise her a specific date, but Cory and I need to talk first. And I’m not sure whether tonight is going to provide that chance. “Try to get some sleep.”

Then I’m downstairs again, navigating through the currents of conversation going around. Thankfully, in the forty-five minutes I’ve been away, the party has not waned. I find Cory emerging from the kitchen, carrying a bottle of whiskey.

“I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” he says with a distinct slur to an older movie star I recognize but whose name I can’t place. He’s been hitting it hard in the time I was away. “And this seems like as good a time as any. Hot Stuff!” he calls out upon seeing me. “Light of my life. Lead of my movie. How is everything?”