"She… spent your dad's money. Then, like I said, she got married again and divorced again. That's all gone too."
As soon she'd cashed the check from husband number four, she'd gotten a full facelift and breast lift. She said she needed to feel "refreshed." So she bought a luxury condominium with closet after closet stuffed with designer clothes, then she had the plastic surgery, then she took the spiritual journey to the East, where she intended to "cleanse" herself. She had unplugged from electronics, was only eating fresh, whole foods, and was spending a large chunk of money to do yoga in ancient temples she knew nothing about.
I was the one financing her adventures now. She'd shown me all of the clothes she'd bought for the trip. Thousands upon thousands of dollars' worth of yoga pants and organic cotton tank tops. I'd felt sick when I looked at them all, the tags still on, spread all over her room.
"She's not a bad person, you know," I said defensively. "After my father left her—with a newborn baby, no job, no education, and no family to lean on—she did what she felt she had to do. She got married to someone who'd take care of us. That was her job. She's not perfect, but she did her best."
"Are you saying that for my benefit or yours?" Kyle asked.
In response, I had another sip of my coffee.
"Sorry. Your mother's always managed to push my buttons," Kyle said, looking out the window. "But let's switch gears. Are you nervous about going in this morning?"
I didn't take my eyes off the road. "It's more like I'm overwhelmed with dread."
"It's gonna be okay. You didn't say anything too horrible. You didn't name names."
I kept my death-grip on the steering wheel. "I didn't have to name names—I'm sure everyone involved in this film knows who I was talking about. And so does half of Hollywood." I blew out a deep breath. "I'm just going to have to apologize. And tell them that the movie's really important to me."
"Is it? Do you love the movie?" he asked.
"No," I said too quickly. Then I felt bad, as if I was being mean to my movie, which it didn't deserve. "It's not like it's a bad movie. It's just not a good movie. You know what I mean?"
"Of course," Kyle said. "Most movies are like that."
"But I need this movie. If I get fired, I'll never get another job in this town. That's how it works. Hence the overwhelming feeling of dread."
Kyle put his hand on my knee and squeezed. Before I had the chance to bite his head off, he released me.
"You can make this okay," he said. "No matter what you feel. Just give 'em a show. You can do it. I've seen all your movies. You're a star for a reason."
I looked at him for a second then quickly brought my eyes back to the road. "You've seen all my movies?"
I didn't understand why, but my face flamed at the thought. I knew people saw my movies. I just didn't know Kyle had seen my movies. All of them. That fact unnerved me more than I cared to admit.
I'd taken off my top in one of those movies. You couldn't see anything, but I'd still taken it off. So he'd seen my shoulders. Naked.
"Of course I saw them all," he said, his voice casual. "When you have a famous relative, it's totally okay to stalk their movies. Plus, I liked them. Most of them, anyway."
"Oh, I didn't know."
"The Family Pride was my favorite," he said and grinned at me.
I cringed. The Family Pride was the movie where I'd played the misunderstood nerd who later became a famous actress. It was also the movie featuring my naked shoulders.
"It seemed so… natural, that role. Like it was written for you. I especially liked the part when you took your shirt off. It was very cinematic."
"Ha ha, Kyle." I tried to focus on driving. "That movie was hard for me. Obviously it hit close to home."
I'd played the main character, who was seriously dorky in high school and decided that the only way she could escape her controlling mother was to become successful in her own right. Meredith Striper, a famous actress, had played my mother in the movie; my own mother hadn't been impressed.
"What did Caroline have to say about that one?" Kyle asked.
"She didn't care for it," I admitted.
Kyle snorted. "Oh, I bet she didn't."
"Not for the reasons you might think," I said, inwardly cringing. "She didn't actually understand the movie. She thought it was too slow. And she thought Meredith Striper was too old to play my mother."