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“I don’t want you to stay here when your sabbatical is over.”
Don’t beat around the bush, Mom.
“I can hardly stay here. I still have to work to make a living.”
“Unless your book is a huge success!” I don’t recall my dad being this excited about me writing a book before. I mean, yes, he said I should give it a try if I wanted to, but I don’t recall any outright enthusiasm.
“That would be great, Dad, but once I’m done writing it, I’ll need to get an agent and then they’ll need to find a publisher, and then come the rewrites … even if everything goes well, it’ll still be a long time before the book is on the shelves.”
“Oy vey, Ethan, you sound like we don’t have any connections,” my mom says. “Between the three of us, we know everyone who is anyone in Hollywood. Getting you an agent will be the easiest thing in the world.”
“If I tell them who I am,” I answer. Her look of total confusion has me explaining, “We all know what it looks like to have someone take you on because you know somebody. It’s a surefire way to sit around waiting for the rest of your life. I want an agent who believes in my book as much as I do and will do whatever it takes to get it sold.”
“He’s right,” my dad tells her. “Remember that little Stein girl we helped get signed over at Unified Artists?” Before my mom can answer, he says, “She had the best agent in town who was so busy repping his star roster, he never gave her the time of day.”
Nodding her head, my mom says, “I suppose. I know when someone asked me to cast an actor as a favor, I made sure they got the smallest role possible.” And there you have it. Favors are the backbone of the Hollywood machine, but most people resent being asked. It’s amazing anything ever gets made.
“Which is why I’m going to go back home after my sabbatical.” I don’t mention that I plan on leaving entertainment law. No sense in upsetting that apple cart until I have to. Parking the car right next to Moira’s truck, I tell them, “I’ll go grab us some hot dogs and sodas and meet you in the stands.”
My dad gets out right away, but my mom doesn’t. “I don’t mean to sound negative, honey. It’s just that I want what’s best for you, and I’m nervous watching you go all rogue like this.”
“Go rogue?”
“You know, going against the plan that was in place. Your dad and I come from a long line of people who pick a career and stay in it for life. It’s the best way to have financial security.”
“I get that, Mom. But haven’t you ever been tempted to try something different?”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m more of a pragmatist than a dreamer. Plus, I enjoyed my career.”
“I guess I’m a dreamer,” I tell her.
“I know it.” She pats my knee almost like she’s resigned to having such an oddball son. “I’ll meet you out there.”
Sitting in the car for a minute longer, I think about what my mom said. She makes being a dreamer sound like a bad thing, which might be true if I hadn’t already saved a lot of money. But as it stands, I’ve lived the life expected of me, I’ve socked away a fabulous nest egg, and now, all I want to do is to make my dreams come true. I just need to figure out where Moira fits into my vision.
As I get out of the car, I spot Grandpa Jack standing in the concession line. I wave while jogging in his direction. “Hey, Jack.”
“Ethan, how are you, son? Did your parents come with you?”
“They’ve already gone to sit down.”
“The boys are so excited they can hardly stand still,” he says. “Moira just about blew a gasket when she found out your dad bought all those tickets though.” He shakes his head and leans in like he’s about to divulge national secrets. “I’m going to have to thank him. That granddaughter of mine would have disowned me if I did that.”
“Do you think Wyatt’s team has a shot?” I ask while making a mental note to tiptoe around Moira on the subject of my dad.
“I’d say so.” Jack takes his food and turns. “See you over there.”
By the time I join him, the game is in full swing. The players seem particularly fired up, which I’m sure has a lot to do with possibly meeting the Dodgers.
Moira scoots over and pats the bench next to her. I hand my parents their food before sitting down. “There’s a palpable energy in the air tonight,” I tell her.
“The whole town is on pins and needles, waiting to hear who won the raffle.” She leans in and giggles, “The kids all want it to be their team and the parents all want it to be someone else’s.”
“What? Why?”
“People plan their summer vacations a long time in advance and switching things around at the last minute so their kid can go to a baseball game in LA messes up the schedule.” She doesn’t mention the money, but I’m guessing that’s part of it, as well.
“How’s Wyatt doing making money for your airfare?”
