AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She’s a tough cookie. Losing your father hardened her heart. As much as I want to forgive her for everything she’s put me through, for the things she’s put you through, I don’t think I’m ready. That doesn’t mean I don’t think you should talk to her first. Don’t let her read about it in the papers. Give her a heads-up. It may not be what you want to do but it’s the right thing and you know it. Don’t be like she was. Don’t let this destroy your spirit. She may shine brightly on the screen, but it’s dulled her spirit.”
Nodding, Ansen stands, refusing to break eye contact.
“You’re better than she was,” he adds. “A better actress, a better person, a kinder soul. I can see it in your eyes. Seeking the spotlight changes people. It brings out the worst in them. It destroys their soul little by little until the only thing left is a shell of a person. You’re a lot like your father. You find the good in every situation. And there is joy in this industry. It took working with you to remind me of that again.”
He leaves before I can respond. Not that there’s much I could have said in my shocked state.
Eli’s by my side, wiping away my tears with his thumbs before I even realize I’m crying.
“Are you sure you still want to do this? It’s only going to open old wounds. Wounds that have barely started to heal. I’d hate to see you go backwards.”
“I need to do it,” I say, staring deep into his eyes.
“Then we do this. Together. A united front.”
All I can do is nod and shake away the unnerving feeling that’s settled in the pit of my stomach. I have work to do. The interview isn’t for a week, and between now and then worrying about my decision isn’t going to do me any good.
Three more tabloids have published stories and pictures of Eli and me. Austin was right when she said this isn’t going to go away any time soon.
As if he knew I needed to get out of my own head, Ansen’s yelling into my walkie ten minutes later. The set is ready to go. All the missing items have been retrieved and a replacement wig has arrived for Celia.
“Places, everyone!” Ansen shouts, catching my eye. We share a knowing look as he yells, “Action!”
It’s going to be a long week.
HAYDEN: Are you ready?
ME: As ready as I can be. I think I’m more nervous to walk in there and have them recognize me before I can tell them who I am. First impressions and all that jazz.
AUSTIN: Stay strong. Stay focused. Don’t let them rush you. Make clear statements.
HAYDEN: Control the conversation. Don’t let them get off track or stray to other topics. They sent you the questions, right?
ME: Yes, but there’s a clause that states they can ask additional questions if my answers dictate a follow up. I’m assuming that the situation will call for it when they find out who my mother is.
AUSTIN: Probably. That’s why they include clauses like that.
ME: I know. I’m ready.
HAYDEN: Have you talked to mommy dearest?
ME: Sent her a text saying I had something important to discuss with her. She hasn’t responded.
AUSTIN: What are you going to do if she doesn’t before the interview?
ME: That’s on her. I gave her five days to get in contact with me. Plenty of time to return a call from her only daughter.
The girls areup to date on the latest developments of my father’s death. I gave them the play-by-play of my conversation with Ansen the night it happened. Neither of them were surprised my mother pushed him away. The more I think about it, the less surprised I am as well. It’s her MO. To avoid being hurt, she deals out the pain. Never lets anyone get close to her.
I’ve realized a lot about my mother in the last week.
She’s selfish but it’s to save face. She’s afraid of getting her heart broken. She doesn’t trust anyone. Not even me. If she did, she would have told me a long time ago the truth about what happened to my father. She would have been proud of the person he was and the reason he ran back into that store instead of dwelling on the fact his actions got him killed.
HAYDEN: Harsh, girl. Even for you.
AUSTIN: I second that. You should pick up the phone and call her, Tay. Don’t tell her through text. Let her hear your voice.
ME: I’d rather not.
