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“Sure, sweetheart.” He kissed my cheek.
“We didn’t mean to interfere,” Mom said.
My dad finally took in what I was wearing. His jaw dropped, and he glanced at my mom. “Is that the dress?”
She nodded. “Yes, it was mine.”
I ran my hand down the front of it, feeling like I was living in a dream. My parents talking. My parents smiling. My parents … united.
“What’s important about this one? I picked it because it was the plainest.”
“Your mom was wearing that the day we met,” my dad admitted. “I still remember what you looked like that day.”
My mom blushed. My mother, the indomitable Rebecca Charlotte Montgomery, blushed.
“I don’t quite look like that anymore,” she said with a laugh.
My dad tilted his head. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
And my mom giggled. As if she were that schoolgirl all over again. As if it were 1988 and she was meeting Charlie for the first time.
I bit my lip and tried not to giggle too. “Well, I should get back. I need to do another take or two. Make yourselves comfortable.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” My dad kissed my cheek.
Mom waved, and then they headed to seats to watch.
Maddox arched an eyebrow at me. “What was that about?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “But … all good things.”
“They deserve it.”
“So do we,” I said and then kissed him.
“That’s a wrap!” I called a few short weeks later.
Everyone cheered noisily, jumping up and down and dancing in circles.
We’d worked day and night on Montgomery House. I’d be up before the sun for hair and makeup and stay long past midnight, going over the footage for the day. Maddox had to be in LA for another movie soon, and we’d tried to rush to meet his deadline. We’d still have to take weeks in post-production, but at least we’d gotten through with everything we needed for the studio. And all the scenes we needed were now officially on film.
In lieu of a fancy party on River Street, my mom had invited everyone over to the real Montgomery House for an ’80s-themed party. A few hours after we wrapped up, the entire cast and crew showed up, dressed in ’80s digs. They marveled at the real house that had inspired the movie. After a few drinks, people ditched their ’80s outfits for swimsuits, splashing in the pool and singing boisterously to the ’80s music my mom had insisted we listen to.
But what was most shocking was my dad showing up in a full ’80s getup, complete with a mullet.
“Dad, you didn’t!” I gasped.
He laughed. “I never had one in the ’80s. I thought, why not?”
“It’s truly terrible, Charlie,” my mom said. She fluffed the shorter strands. “You didn’t quite get the front to stick up enough.”
“Mom!”
She grinned at me. “What? We found them incredibly attractive at the time, Josephine.”
“Did you have eyes?”
My dad winked at me. “Business in the front. Party in the back.”
“Maddox, if you ever …”
He held his hands up. “I would never think about it.”
“How does it feel to be finished with filming?” Dad asked.
“Amazing. It feels like the best thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.”
“We can’t wait to see it. Can we, Charlie?”
Maddox and I shared a look. Dad had been coming in a lot more often to watch filming. He hadn’t said anything about what was happening between him and Mom, but I could guess what I thought was happening. Especially considering he’d used the guest bedroom at our house twice and then not stayed there since. But I wasn’t going to pressure them to say more about what was going on before they were ready. It had taken them thirty years to get back to a place where they didn’t hate each other. I was excited that they could be in the same room. That Dad could ever be in Edward’s old house after everything that had happened.
“Mom,” I said softly, “did you ever think of selling Montgomery House?”
“No,” she said decisively.
“Why not? It has so many bad memories.”
“Because then Edward would have won.” She nodded once. “The house is mine. I earned it.”
Rebecca Charlotte Montgomery surveyed the house that had been her undoing. The house that had shaped her entire life. The house she lived in alone with the weight of her bad reputation on her shoulders. And she smiled.
I’d written, directed, and acted in a movie about this very house, and I’d never really understood what had kept my mom here until this moment. The house was just a house. The memories were in the past. No one was going to run her out of this town. She deserved to be here. And anyone who said otherwise didn’t matter.
The Montgomery House had haunted me long enough.
Now, it was just home.
31
SAVANNAH
PRESENT
I’d been here before.
Standing behind a cinema screen with the biggest project of my life. The last time, I’d been all nerves. Something had been missing from the film, but I hadn’t had enough experience to know what it was at the time. I had given up on that dream for so long and washed my hands of that day.
