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What the actual fuck was that? I watched as Richard Bergstrom walked away from us, headed straight toward the bar.
“That was your father?” I asked, stunned. It was almost out of a soap opera script. “I thought your last name was Lane.”
“It is. I changed it when Sierra was born. What the hell was all that about?”
“What? The condom joke?”
“Yes.”
I studied her. “Are you mad at me for that? The guy’s got a very apt name. Your father is–”
“I know. A dick.”
“Is that why you’re estranged?”
“One of many reasons.”
It had been clear they weren’t close. No hugs. No smiles. No affection whatsoever. Only being an asshole on his part. He’d walked off without even saying goodbye. To his own daughter!
I recognized her using one of those useful phrases she had. With her father.
“And no, I’m not mad. I thought it was hilarious. And you, the out of work actor.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Ten?” I didn’t even know what to say to that. “What’s he doing here?” I looked around, not understanding. What was he doing at a LA film industry party?
“I assume for my mother. If he’s here, then she is.” She glanced around, as if we were swimming in murky waters just waiting to see a shark fin appear. “He often tags along at these kinds of events to try to sleep with any woman who will have him. At least that’s the way it used to be.”
What? “She knows?”
With a nod, she answered, “Yes. As long as he’s discreet.”
“What did he mean it wouldn’t be the first time the condom broke?”
“Sierra.”
So Aspen had Sierra because of a birth control mishap?
“That’s how he thinks of his granddaughter? As the condom breaking incident?”
Aspen shrugged. “They’ve never met her. Sierra doesn’t even know who they are.”
I kissed her forehead. “Jesus, tiger. Are you closer with your mom?”
She looked up at me, those blue eyes a touch haunted. But also determined. “No. She’s a hell of a lot worse.”
37
ASPEN
* * *
For a mansion as big as this one, it didn’t take long to run into my mother. If my father was here, then I knew she would be. All I had to do was turn around and look across the room. Seeing my father had been a surprise. I was caught off guard and my emotions were raw. I felt vulnerable and young again. But I’d had a few minutes to prepare myself to see my mother. It wasn’t enough.
“That’s her,” I told Luke, lifting my chin in the direction where my mother stood, an entourage surrounding her. She was speaking and they were listening in awe, as if she were a cult leader and she was telling them to drink the juice.
