I didn’t stop to think about how coming back to the Apple House in a few hours would be a waste of time, or how I’d rather grab a protein bar and work through lunch. I didn’t pause to consider if I would be a third or fourth or fifth wheel, depending on who else would be attending. I just nodded as I stood to wash my mug and said, “Yeah, that sounds good.”
My sister smiled, and I felt like I’d, once again, provided the right answer ... the one a good sister would give. If it made her happy, I’d agree to chicken salad around a picnic table whenever she wanted. That was compromise. That was maintaining a relationship.
On my way to the sink, I peeked out onto the screened porch. Ian was facing away, but I could see the way his head was thrown back in laughter over something my brother had said. His massive shoulders shook, the muscles visible beneath his pullover.
Swallowing hard, I looked away, right into the grinning face of my mother. She gave me a little wink.
I waved, ignoring the heat climbing my cheeks, and threw a thumb over my shoulder, indicating I was taking off.
After all, I had work to do. I couldn’t just sit around all day, waiting for someone to sort my yellow M&M’s and then feed them to me.
four
IAN
“Hey, Georgie. What would you like for breakfast?”
My nephew regarded me, but didn’t speak.
“Do you want pancakes? Maybe some cereal?” I opened the fridge and peered inside. “There’s probably some eggs and bacon in here, but if not, I can have Sophia or Darren run to the store.”
“I don’t eat animals,” he said softly.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Since when?”
“Since I was six.”
Frowning, I shut the refrigerator door. My nephew had been a vegetarian for nearly a year? Had I really not realized that? Granted, we’d been busy getting acclimated to one another for the last eight months, and Georgie had been a little reserved with me, but I couldn’t imagine missing something so important.
When my older sister, Dawn, passed away a year ago after a car accident, Georgie had gone to live with my parents. But it hadn’t taken long for them to contact me about taking over their grandson’s care. There were several factors, namely my parents’ advanced age, but they feared they wouldn’t be able to give Georgie the sort of life he deserved.
My sister and I hadn’t been very close. A fourteen-year age gap made things difficult even before I’d put physical distance between us and moved to LA at eighteen. Dawn had had her life, and I’d had mine. And the sad truth was, we’d never bothered to make space for one another. I had a lot of regrets, but not making an effort with my only sibling was something that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
“You had chicken nuggets three nights ago, little dude,” Sophia called, sweeping into the kitchen out of nowhere, long, dark hair trailing in her wake. Sophia was a combination live-in nanny and tutor, and she handled child care and education for my nephew like a pro. Maybe it was her youthfulness and age—early twenties—or her laid-back, free-spirited approachability, but Georgie adored her.
We’d tried a private school back in LA, but that hadn’t gone very well. Georgie was ... mature for his age in a lot of ways. Very smart, but also a bit behind socially. Kids could be cruel, and I wasn’t subjecting him to that. Plus, I traveled a lot and didn’t want him to grow up in a boarding school somewhere. I’d rather he stay with me, with his family.
This would be my first time having Georgie on set, and Sophia had been on board with joining us in North Carolina for filming. She planned to head back to California for a few days around the holidays, but otherwise, she was taking point on all things Georgie for the time being.
I had production and planning meetings today, as well as a final table read before shooting began in a few days. But I’d wanted to make sure I saw Georgie this morning before I left for work.
“Well, I don’t eat animals anymore,” my nephew informed us.
Sophia shot me a knowing grin. “I’ll handle breakfast, Ian. I know you have a busy morning.”
She knew because my assistant, Eddie J, had emailed out my weekly schedule to all members of my team. He might not be physically present here in Kirby Falls, but Eddie J was still frighteningly capable of running my life from his couch in Silver Lake, California.
Aside from Eddie J, the team included my agent, Jocelyn; Georgie’s nanny, Sophia; my longtime bodyguard, Darren; my manager, Gloria; andBaxter, the on-site production assistant specific for this film. They were the people who kept me organized and focused, or tried to, at least.
It had taken some time, but Georgie was finally a little more comfortable with me. Prior to my sister’s death, I’d only seen the kid twice. I was sure, to him, coming to live with me had been like getting shipped off to a stranger.
Not that living with my parents had been much better for him. Newel and Ellen Wells were good people, and they meant well. They just didn’t have a lot of patience for children. They’d been in their mid-forties when I came along, a surprise baby who grew into a hyperactive, mischievous kid.
As a child, I hadn’t understood that my parents had already raised the kid they’d planned for. They’d scrapbooked milestones and planned Disney vacations. They’d made Halloween costumes and attended parent-teacher conferences. I’d been a wrench in their retirement plans.
My parents loved me, but they didn’t have a lot of energy for another kid. Starting over again with a newborn had been a struggle. Plus, I’d been a handful as a child and adolescent. I’d tried out for school plays and helped out behind the scenes of local productions. They didn’t understand why I wanted to be a performer or why I was so loud or up so late. Or a hundred other things that made up this person they’d been saddled with.
I’d been safe and warm and fed, which was a lot more than some kids could say, but my childhood had been lonely and devoid of a family who really understood and accepted me.
