“This isn’t a break.”
“I meant from acting,” I said, my frustration growing. I was here offering to take some of her burden, and she would rather suffer than accept my help. “Is it that laughable that I can be of assistance?”
“Have you ever watched a child?”
“Kids love me. Collette and I get on swimmingly.”
“This isn’t like working together on a movie set. Getting along hardly matters. She needs structure and predictability. Her life has been so”—she hesitated—“messy. Little kids need to have some routine to feel safe. She can’t just have strangers coming and going. It’s not good for a child. For her.” She spoke with vehemence. She spoke with a fear rooted in trauma. This was a woman who wanted to spare a child from having a life she knew too well.
“I understand what you’re saying.” I stepped closer until she was forced to meet my eyes. “I will be here. That’s what you need. You can call my friends and get references if you want. But I’m telling you that Iwillbe here. Having an extra adult on hand can’t hurt.”
She didn’t hide her skepticism very well, and it cut.
“I want to be here,” I said. “And that’s more than most people who are being paid to just do a job. If you want to sign a contract, I will do that too.”
“This just doesn’t feel real. What will you tell people?”
Good-time guy of the Intrepid Trio, actor Harrison Evans, takes unplanned leave from Hollywood for secret reasons.
“We won’t tell anybody. Out of sight, out of mind in this business. By the time I return people won’t even realize I’d been gone. But that’s not what matters to me.” If we drew any attention this way, then there would be issues, but if we slipped quietly out of the limelight, nobody would notice.
She had taken a leap of faith with me earlier by trusting me with her truth, so I would do the same. “The thing is, George is one of the most important people on the planet to me. He literally gave me the life I have. I-I haven’t been here when he needed me.”
She groaned quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I felt defensive.” She balled her thumb into her palm.
“But you’re right,” I half-shouted and lowered my voice, glancing out into the hall. “I should have been here.” She sucked in her lips and didn’t say anything else. “I feel like I have to do this. I want to do this for him. I can’t—” I broke off suddenly, emotion catching my throat. I gathered myself, using more focus than when I was on SNL and couldn’t laugh, only this time, I was trying not to lose it in front of a beautiful, stoic woman. “I saw the fear in his eyes in that video. I could hear the worry in his voice. I want to be here for him. I haven’t been great at a lot of things in my life. I’m not really a person who others feel like they can count on.” Her forehead creased. I added quickly, trying not to shoot myself in my own foot as it were, “I want to be the person George counts on. Collette too.” I wanted Frankie to have faith in me, but that felt like too much too soon, and I wasn’t even sure why that felt so important.
“In a few days, you and I can reassess. If it’s not working and we need professional help, that’s understandable. I’ll work with Bob and his team and get some. But for now, nobody outside the few who already do need to know about this. We will tell Collette and George that I’m visiting for a while. We don’t have to mention that I’m here for anything other than a visit. We can give George the finale he deserves.”
It felt like hours as Frankie deliberated. Eventually, she stepped up to me. “Fine. You have a two-week probational period to see if this works.”
I grinned so wide that Frankie had to bite back a smile of her own. “Deal.” I extended my hand.
“And if and when you commit to this, you’re signing your name in blood. Do you understand? I won’t let these people get hurt,” she said.
“In blood.”
Frankie smiled at me and it reminded me of the day we met. “Okay, Harrison Evans. You’re hired.” She shook my hand, and we both looked at our clasped hands.
“Full-time manny, extraordinaire,” I said.
“I don’t think we say that anymore. Manny,” she said while still looking at our clasped hands.
“Ah.”
I would prove myself worthy of something more than acting and being the fun one. I ignored the frisson at her touch and released her, balling my fist and putting it in my pocket.
“Then just call me Mr. Mom,” I said.
She shook her head with a snort. “That’s worse somehow.”
