Hollywood's Secret Baby

So much for the grand dinner.

“I know you do, but you’re going to make some cool new friends here. And it’s not like you’re going to lose Becca and the others. They’ll be there for you when we go back home.”

“When’s that going to be? I thought we were just staying here for the summer.”

Me too, I think. But things change, and in one of Cory’s recent visits from the office, we had a chance to talk about exactly this.

“I need to figure out what to do with my house,” I tell him after he steps out of the shower. I’d rather use this precious time we have together for other purposes, but he doesn’t even have time for a quickie. In fact, after a glance at the clock, he swears.

“Shit. I’m going to be late. Can you grab something for me to wear?”

I’m slow to move because my current thoughts are taking up the glut of my processing power. Still, I forage through his closet. “I’m just not sure what to do with it. Sell it? Hold onto it? The problem is my savings is drying up and I can’t keep up with the mortgage payments much longer. And I don’t know if I even want to move back, you know?”

A non-committal grunt echoes from the bathroom. He’s on autopilot, and I can’t really blame him. If a candle had three ends, he’d be burning them all at the same time. Even though I know he doesn’t have much time, I need an answer on this. So I set his clothes on the foot of the bed and walk up behind him. Slipping my arms around him, I lay my head on his shoulder.

“Do you want us to hang around?”

This grabs his attention away from shaving. He turns and presses his shaving-cream-covered cheek against mine. “What do you mean? Of course I want you guys around. We’re a family.”

“And you don’t want to live in Alabama again, right?”

He shudders at this, and I’m not even sure it was for comic effect. But I understand. Now that I’ve been out west for a while, I’m not feeling homesick like I expected.

I look around the room. “We can’t live in Sarah’s guesthouse forever.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I think she likes having you and Lizzie around. Sarah’s never had many close friends.”

“Be that as it may, we’re going to need our own place. And even after I sell my house back home, that’s not going to add up to even a drop in the bucket for a down payment on a place out here.”

Cory turns around in my arms. He kisses my nose and smiles at the smudge of shaving cream it leaves behind. “Just wait until your movie comes out. We’ll be swimming in money.”

As much as I want to believe in Cory, he’s leaving out a key detail: our movie is currently stuck in the water. He hasn’t said this directly, but I’ve picked up the cloud of desperation he wallows in when he thinks I’m not watching him. I’ve heard the hissed phone calls he takes out on the driveway where he thinks I can’t hear him. And there’s been no avoiding the vortex I created with my little social media update.

Over the past three months, hundreds of women—from crew members to other producers to A-lists celebrities including Sarah Park—have come out against Jeb Eli. Some have stories stretching back decades while others are more recent. Recent enough to build a real court case, in fact. Since I’m the one who got this ball rolling, I’m seen as the unofficial leader, which means I’m up late most nights leaving supportive comments for the other women and fielding calls from lawyers during the day.

Although Cory hasn’t come out and said it, I know this grassroots campaign against the biggest producer in Hollywood is not doing our movie any favors. Each and every person who’s spoken out has been subsequently blacklisted, even from parts they already had. But our numbers are growing, and soon the elites won’t be able to hold us back.

I come back to reality, where several pounds of food wait in front of me and my daughter is still staring off into space. Jeb Eli is my Moby Dick, but whaling can wait for later. Right now, Lizzie needs reassurance.

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“I know you miss your friends, but how do you like it here?”

Another shrug, but when I wait with raised eyebrows for a real response, she finally says, “It’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“There’s loads more places to hang out. And we can even walk to the beach from here. I like that a lot. Plus it’s not too humid.”

“That’s for sure.” I scoot closer and run my hand through her hair. “How would you feel if we lived here? I mean, not just for a vacation.”

“Forever?”

“Maybe not forever, but for a long, long time.”

“With dad too?”

I kiss her forehead. “Of course with dad.”