Page 103 of Deck the Hauls

I let out a shaky breath. “Yes. He’s been sexually harassing women—from big-name actresses to young assistants—using his power and influence to try to pressure them into sleeping with him.”

I avoided eye contact with my parents and focused on the phone in my hand instead.

“Oh my god,” Lucia said. “Shit, Emily.”

“And…” I took a gulp of air. “I’m one of the women speaking out against him.”

I forced myself to look over to my parents. Mom raised her hand to her mouth. Dad’s frown had deepened, his jaw tense.

“You know how I’ve struggled to get any acting roles since Clique? He propositioned me and, when I rejected him, he said he’d ruin my career. And, well, you know what happened to my career after that movie. Apparently he spread a rumor that I was a nightmare to work with.”

“What a dick!” yelled Lucia, making Mom jump in her seat. “Oh my god, that is awful. I’m so sorry, Emily.”

Mom moved her hand down to grip her leg. Her face was pale.

“There’ll probably be a lot of attention on me after the article comes out. There’s a chance the media might find out where I live and show up here. I’m sorry that this is going to affect you too,” I said to my parents.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Dad, standing up. “That’s not your fault, Emily.” He walked over and enveloped me in his arms.

I hugged him back, leaning into the warmth of his body and inhaling the comforting woody scent of his aftershave cream.

“Why didn’t you tell us before, when it happened?” Lucia asked.

I ran my hand through my hair. “It was such an awful night and I just wanted to move on. I hadn’t realized he’d done it to other women as well. I’d thought perhaps it was something I’d done—had I been too friendly, and he’d misread the signals? In retrospect, even if that was the case, of course it didn’t make it okay. And at the time, I didn’t really think he’d destroy my career. It turned out I was wrong.”

Mom stood to give me a hug as well. “I’d always wondered what had happened, because you did such a great job on Clique. All the reviews were glowing, some of them saying you were the next big thing. I thought it must have just been because acting is such an unpredictable career. But this makes so much more sense.”

“So what made you decide to speak out now?” Lucia asked.

I summarized the events of the past month as I fiddled with a candy cane decoration that had fallen from the tree. “The article is coming out tomorrow afternoon, so I wanted to tell you all about it first.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Mom said, rubbing my back. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

I exhaled, relieved that it was over and that my family finally knew the secret I’d been holding for the past two years. Should I try calling Dana again, to let her know how the talk went? No. I needed to be mindful that I’d been the one to ask her to leave, and that it wasn’t fair to constantly call her, especially just so I could download all my emotions onto her. Yes, I had said we should stay friends, but I needed to ensure I didn’t overstep any boundaries. My chest ached. Had I done the right thing, sending her away? It had certainly felt like the right thing in the aftermath of Phillip’s shocking appearance and his threats. But now… I missed her so much. I shook off my doubts.

Now all I could do was wait and see what happened when the article was published.

—

I spent the night tossing and turning, having half-awake dreams about Phillip chasing me down a corridor and out into the street into a crowd of reporters. The reporters barraged me with questions, lights flashing in my face. And then, in the back, behind the reporters, Dana appeared, her face sad. She turned and walked away. I looked down and realized I was naked, desperately started to search for something to protect my body from the paparazzi’s cameras, and then woke with a start, my heart pounding.

I looked at my phone. 3 a.m. Only twelve hours until the article would be published. I was dreading it, but at the same time, it couldn’t come fast enough. It was better to rip-off the Band-Aid, discover what the fallout would be, and then try to move on. Hopefully the fallout included serious repercussions for Phillip. But what if it didn’t? Panic welled up in me. I took a deep breath. No, I was doing the right thing. While that was a possibility, at least by speaking out there was a decent chance he’d be stopped. At a minimum, it would hopefully warn other women, or perhaps make other women more comfortable to come forward.

When it was finally time to get up, I forced a few mouthfuls of cereal down and then went out for a walk, hoping the fresh air would clear my head and soothe my restless legs. It didn’t work. After I returned, Mom sent me to work in the basement sorting through my old boxes of stuff I’d had since I was a kid. I sifted through photos of me and Lucia helping hang Christmas decorations and playing in the yard, photos of me performing in school plays, family photos of Christmas and Thanksgiving feasts.

I paused at one of me standing on stage, arms flung out and mouth open, singing my heart out in my high school’s production of Oklahoma! I smiled, studying my face. My first lead performance. It had been exhilarating.

Footsteps sounded down the steps. I looked up to see Mom holding a mug of coffee.

“Here you go, sweetheart. How’s the sorting going? Have you found much you want to part with?”

I looked down at the pile of things to give away or throw out, although it couldn’t really be described as a pile. All that currently sat there was an old toothbrush I’d found nestled between some mementos and a used tissue that probably housed some ancient flu strain. At least the pile had grown since Mom had popped down and given me a sandwich for lunch.

“Not yet.”

Mom rolled her eyes, chuckling.

“Are you sure you’re okay down here by yourself?” Mom glanced at her watch and her lips pressed together.