Chapter 1
Present Day ~ One Week and Four Days before Christmas…
IVY
“Ma, there is no way I can come home for Christmas.” I lay my smartphone down on the kitchen counter and tap speaker, counting down the number of seconds it takes for my mother to voice her protest.
Five…Four…Three…
“Now, Evelyn—”
“It’s Ivy, Ma,” I correct, knowing she’ll never concede.
“No, it’s Evelyn, the beautiful name I graced you with at birth. You were named after your great-grandmother, may she rest in peace. Evelyn Marie Bloom. Not that stage name.”
The way she emphasizesstagenameas if I’m some sort of a stripper, makes me laugh. Ma has always hated the fact I changed my name to Ivy a few years ago. But really,EvelynBloom sounded too archaic for a young, up-and-coming actress.
“Now,” she goes on, “why can’t you come home for Christmas? I miss you and BB—we all do, sweetie.”
BB—full name Bruiser Bloom—is my spoiled, sometimes diva-like, teacup chihuahua. Diva-like because the tail-wagger has been in more starring roles than I have. Pet-food commercials, a made-for-TV flick, a local play. The checks I receive for her come in handy when it’s time for trips to the vet, the groomer, or Pups Fifth Avenue, a doggie clothing store in Hollywood.
“Because I got an acting job, Ma. It just so happens to run over the Christmas holiday.” I push the button on my Keurig to brew a fresh cup.
Scoffs—that’s right, as in more than one—echo through the phone and I can only imagine my mother with a disgruntled furrowed-brow expression. “And what sort of an acting job?”
“One that pays well, Ma. They gave me an advance and a wardrobe per diem, too.” I stir in a spoonful of sugar and pour cream into my cup of mood-enhancer before settling down onto the barstool, grateful I still have a roof over my head. The advance I got allowed me to pay rent for the next three months.
“Oh? Wardrobe per diem?” Her eyebrows no doubt lift in unison with the high-pitched tone in her voice. There is no need for me to video chat with Ma since I already know what she’s doing.
“Uh, huh,” I mumble, unwilling to offer more details. Ma’s head would likely explode if she knew my acting assignment was that of a fiancée for hire. I mean, my own head nearly did when Holly York shared the details two days after I accepted thepart.
“Well, I was hoping you’d come home so I can introduce you to that fine young man…”
On pure instinct, my ears tune her out atintroduce you to.
My mother…I love her. Really, I do. But the woman is relentless when it comes to trying to set me up. It’s always someone: a patient’s son—Ma is an oncology nurse; the nice guy who helped her cross the street; the fireman who lives across the way; or her gynecologist.Gross.
The fact she doesn’t want her only daughter to stay single forever, is understandable. Yet, I’m in no hurry to settle down. Not until I meet Mr. Right—and certainly not one my mother set me up with.
Oh, gosh. She’s still babbling on and on…
Something about grandchildren now. As if, at twenty-six, my precious ovaries posted anow closedsign and my biological clock is approaching extinction.
“Ma, I’ve really gotta go. Call you later tonight, okay?”
“All right, dear. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Sipping coffee, while sitting at the small breakfast nook inside my cozy kitchenette, my pensive state drifts to when I first moved to Hollywood, four years ago. Back then, I was able to share this tiny apartment with Gabriella. We’d met in acting class, back at New York’s American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and instantly connected with a shared goal to leave NYC for Hollywood, California. It’s funny, people who live in NY seem like they want to live in CA and vice versa. In New York, there’s acting on Broadway. I wanted acting in Hollywood-produced films, and so did Gabriella. We graduated from the Academy, took a few roles in some off-Broadway productions, all the while, saving up to move. And a few months after we made it to glorious Hollywood, Gabriella met a prominent plastic surgeon, fell in love, settled into his house, then got engaged.Why can’t you land a handsome, successful man, Evelyn?That was the first thing Ma called and asked me, the moment Gabriella dropped ‘we’re engaged’ photos on Facebook. It’s been my mother’s mission to pair me up with someone ever since.
Can you meet me for lunch today? At your favorite place? My treat.
Gabriella’s text is a welcome sight since it’s been over a month since we saw one another. She’d been busy with her fiancé, traveling with him while he was on medical sabbatical in Spain. Of course, I reply straight away with an emphatic exclamation-point-adorned,yes,scoop up BB, because the pooch demands to accompany me everywhere, place her in my purse, then catch an Uber.
* * *
Gabriellaand I meet at my fave LA restaurant called The Ivy—the first spot we dined at when we first arrived in Los Angeles—known for a buzzy atmosphere and celebrity sightings. Needless to say, the upscale eatery is also what lent inspiration to me changing my name to Ivy.
