Page 117 of Wardrobe Malfunction

“And I think Uncle Vaughn likes you a lot,” she whispers to me. “I’ve never seen him with a girl before.”

I smile down at her. “I’m glad ’cause I like him a lot, too.”

I take a seat on the floor where Sasha and Meg have set up camp with the photo albums. Nora sits down beside me. Jester climbs into my lap. I give his ear a scratch.

“Okay”—Meg gleefully rubs her hands—“let’s get this show of embarrassing my brother on the road.”

She opens a photo album, and the first picture is of a glammed up Tallulah-looking Vaughn. Oversized dress, too-big high heels, and bright red lips.

“How old was he here?” I ask.

“Eight. Wasn’t he such a pretty boy?” Sasha says.

And we all burst out laughing.

Vaughn

“You made such a pretty Tallulah,” Charly murmurs, sounding sleepy, her arm linked through mine, head resting against my shoulder, as we walk the short distance back to my house.

We’ve got Jester with us. He’s trotting on up ahead, sniffing every blade of grass possible. He was at the door, following us out when we were leaving, so I said to my mom that he could stay at mine. He wouldn’t leave Charly alone all night. He’s obsessed with her. As it turns out, I am, too.

And wasn’t that revelation earlier just a little shocker?

Since realizing how I felt about her, I kept sneaking looks at her all night to see if she looked different to me. But she just looks the same, and it makes me wonder if I’ve been in love with her all along.

“I thought we talked about this, Pins,” I say in a mock-annoyed voice. “What you saw in my parents’ living room stays in my parents’ living room.”

She giggles softly. “Sorry, West.”

“You’re forgiven. Just don’t do it again.” I kiss the top of her head, breathing in her raspberry and vanilla scent.

I don’t really care about the embarrassing story and photographs because I saw how much fun she had while hearing them and seeing the pictures. I loved making her laugh. I want to make her happy.

And, honestly, this is what I love about being home. Here, I’m just me. My sisters’ kid brother who they take the piss out of.

That’s why I made the decision to build my house here and keep Oregon as my permanent home. When you live in a place like LA, a place where people call you special, tell you that you’re a star, that you’re important, it’s easy to believe it. It’s easy to forget that you’re the same kid who dressed up as Tallulah and acted out Bugsy Malone with your older sisters. It’s easy to believe your own hype. It’s easy to forget who you really are in Hollywood.

And it’s not that I’m ungrateful for the opportunities that my profession affords me.

But the person I want to be is the person this place keeps me being.

I have a great family who treats me the same as they always have. They are the reason my feet stay firmly on the ground, where they belong.

And, despite the shit I endured a few months ago, I’ve always thought of myself as a happy guy. But I didn’t know happiness until I met Charly.

And I’ve never been more myself than I am with her.

We reach my house, and I let us in. Jester shouldn’t need to pee. He took about twenty pisses on our way over here.

Charly kicks her flip-flops off. “Mind if I go straight up?” she asks. “I’m super tired after all that food.”

“Yeah, sure, babe. I’ll just get Jester settled for the night, and I’ll be up.”

She starts up the stairs, and Jester follows her.

“Jester,” I call after him.

He stops on the stairs.