The keeping place, p.19
The Keeping Place, page 19
“Why would you say such a thing?”
Another shrug. He pursed his bottom lip, studying the contents of his glass. A set expression. Resolute.
She swallowed hard, unwilling to follow where he led. Blasting Fifth Street Sundown wasn’t the only news the gossip rags touted. Most suggested he could heal his bruised ego by cuddling up with his new co-star, Mariana Mendoza, a twenty-something Latino beauty. Glory had seen pictures of her pouting for the camera, head angled just so, lips lush and ruby red. Rumor said Bryce was following his usual pattern of hooking up with his female lead, but Glory refused to believe the chatter. Tabloids created scandal to sell their papers.
Self-consciously, she flattened a hand against her waist. “We have to talk.”
“So you said on the phone.” He strolled to the windows, presenting his back to her.
Confused by his indifference, she hovered behind him. Her heartbeat drummed higher, the pulse in her neck fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”
“I meant it at the time.”
Her stomach flip-flopped. He remained staring out the windows, unwilling to face her. Why?
Because she’d see the truth in his eyes.
“Bryce.”
At last, he turned, his face chiseled from stone. His expression said what words didn’t.
Glory felt the floor waffle beneath her. “You’ve moved onto someone else.”
“Mariana.” He confirmed the rumors. “What you and I had was fun while it lasted, but nothing’s forever.”
“Not with you, apparently.” She spat the words.
He strolled toward the bar, casual and uncaring.
An inferno of heat roared through her. “Bryce, I’m pregnant.”
That jerked him to a halt. When he whirled to face her, his shock was almost comical. She might have laughed at the play of emotions on his face if not for having just been dumped by the man she’d hoped to marry.
“Whose is it?”
“You sonofabitch!” She reacted without thought, instinct propelling the flat of her palm across his face.
He didn’t so much as flinch. Merely grinned as he prodded the spot she’d struck. “I guess that means it’s mine.”
“Who else’s would it be, you pig? I haven’t been with anyone but you since we met.”
“Well, that clears matters up. Then again—you told me you were on the pill.”
The taste of vinegar filled her mouth. “I guess you’re too much of a testosterone stud for it to be effective.”
“Funny.” Back to the bar again. “That calls for a toast.”
She watched him pour. Not one glass but two.
“I’ve never been a father before, and I don’t intend to be one now.” He nudged a glass toward her. “Do whatever you want, Glory. Keep the kid or get rid of it, but count me out.”
She left the drink untouched. “You made this baby.”
“I’ve probably made a lot of babies in my time, but women know better than to try to put a ring on my finger, collect money, or drag my name through the courts.” He tipped his glass in her direction. “You want to work in this town?” The sourness of alcohol wafted on his breath. “Do yourself a favor and get an abortion.”
“You heartless bastard.”
“Not heartless. Realistic. Right now, you’re hanging on a cusp. Fifth Street Sundown could be your death sentence as an actress, but with the right people behind you, you’ve still got a shot. That agent of yours is worthless. You need a true professional, someone who moves in elite circles.”
Her anger dialed down a notch. “What are you suggesting?”
“Even if we’re no longer a couple, I can still help your career.”
The snake. Part of her wanted to hear more, part feared what he would say. “How?”
“A single mother in Hollywood isn’t going to cut it. And you’ll never get your figure back after a pregnancy.” He eyed her body in obvious appreciation. “Be sensible. Do yourself a favor and have the abortion. When you’re over whatever kind of trauma that involves” —he motioned dismissively— “I’ll introduce you to my agent. He owes me a few favors. I’ll make certain he gets you seen by the right people and lands you a good deal. Guaranteed.”
Her blood pressure spiked. “You’re bargaining my career with my baby’s life?” Why had she never seen this side of him before? Uncaring. Cold. Calculating. “That’s blackmail.”
“Blackmail is an ugly word. You want fame, right? The brass ring and all that comes with it? I’m giving you a chance. I’ll call my agent right now and arrange for him to meet you tomorrow.” He pulled his cellphone from his pocket, thumb poised, ready to dial. “Just get rid of the baby.”
Glory looked from the phone to his eyes, his gaze sharp with anticipation.
“I guess this does call for a toast.” She picked up the glass.
“I knew you’d see it my way.”
“All I see is a piece-of-shit bastard I never want to cross paths with again.”
She threw the drink in his face.
Chapter 17
Nicole blinked, sound flooding back in a rush—the back-and-forth chatter of birds, the swish of breeze through leaves and grass, the rumble of a lawn mower in the distance. She released a pent-up breath, Glory’s story swirling in her head.
“He tried to blackmail you?” All those years, all the thoughts she’d held about her mother’s intense loathing for Bryce Keller, she’d never suspected something so reprehensible.
Glory bit her lip. She perched on the edge of a chair adjacent to Nicole, their knees almost touching as they sat angled toward one another. The sun had crept closer, chasing shade from the corner of the patio as it inched higher in the sky. Somewhere during the course of the story, Nicole lost track of time.
“Mom, did you…” She’d always known Hollywood success was important to her mother, especially in her younger years. Nicole’s lack of an older brother or sister spoke for itself. Glory had aborted her baby in hopes of furthering her career. No wonder she’d kept the trauma and shame secret all these years. Sometimes people made bad choices, even the people you loved.
“It’s okay.” Nicole gathered her mother’s hand, lightly tracing her thumb over the knuckles. Glory’s eyes were wide and wary, the look of a frightened rabbit ready to flee. Moisture brimmed on her lower lashes. “You can’t keep feeling guilty for having an abortion. Keller was a despicable man.”
“He was your father.”
“What?” Glory said the words so quickly, so matter-of-factly, Nicole was certain she’d heard wrong. It took a second for the reality to strike, for the bottom to lurch from her world. She stood slowly, every muscle and nerve, wired with tension. “What did you say?”
“You have to understand.” Glory stared up at her, tears streaking her face. “I couldn’t do what he asked. You were my child.”
“You left Hollywood because of me?” Nicole didn’t recognize her voice, hard and flinty. Acid bubbled from her gut, burning the back of her throat. “What about my father?”
Glory lowered her head. Studied her bitten fingernails, hands clasped in her lap. “When I came back to Hornwood, Clay was waiting. He’d dated but never found anyone to take my place. That’s what he told me.” She raised her eyes, her smile tight and bittersweet. “He said he never stopped loving me. Two weeks after I returned home, he proposed.”
Nicole choked out a breath, unable to accept what she was hearing. The world shifted, rickety and carnival-ride slick. All her ideas, all her beliefs. Her life crashed down in an avalanche of deceit. “You let him believe… you let me believe…”
“Clay loved you. He was your father in every way that mattered.“ Glory shot to her feet, her expression fierce. “I should have been honest with him from the start, but I was afraid he wouldn’t want me with someone else’s baby living inside me. I needed him, Nicole. I needed someone.”
“You always need someone. It’s always about you!“ She gripped her head, angered by her stupidity. “I can’t believe I nearly got sucked into your drama again. That I actually thought I mattered. That you loved me.”
“I do!” Glory tried to grab her hand, but she flinched away.
Her mother’s face contorted, mascara-streaked tears hugging the curves of her cheeks. “I screwed up. It was an accident. I never intended for Clay to learn the truth, but when it slipped out, he couldn’t forgive me for the deceit.”
“Good for him. I can’t, either.”
“Please. I made a mistake.” Glory was pleading now, her voice cracked and broken. “By the time I realized I should have been honest from the start, it was too late. I didn’t want to cause more harm. I just wanted all of us to be a family.”
“No. You wrote a script and expected us to play the parts. I can’t believe you lied to me all these years.”
“Nic.” Glory gripped her arm.
“Don’t touch me!” She flung aside her mother’s hand. Her stomach cramped so badly, she thought she’d been poisoned. The hurt and treachery burrowed so deep, she thought she’d never heal. “I don’t want to speak to you again. Ever.”
Furious, she stalked from the patio.
“You’re sure this is okay?” Nicole sat on the bed, knees drawn to her chest, back supported by two fluffy pillows braced against the headboard. She kneaded a tissue between her fingers, the suitcase full of clothing and belongings she’d hastily thrown together still untouched on the floor. “I can go to a hotel.”
“Don’t be silly.” Chelsea propped a hip on the edge of the mattress. “Violet is spending the next two weeks with her grandparents. You’re more than welcome to her room.” Her lips curved in a grin. “As long as you don’t mind unicorns and rainbows.”
Nicole managed a watery smile. Violet’s parents more than catered to her tastes, furnishing the room with a rainbow bedspread and vibrant wall mural. Stuffed unicorns of various sizes sat atop a brightly painted toy chest. Others snuggled onto a white rocker, and one four-foot purple unicorn stood guard at the foot of the bed. Pictures of unicorns on starry backgrounds or in fields dotted with wildflowers hung on the walls. There was even a crystal unicorn on the bedside table.
“I’m surprised there weren’t any on the bed,” Nicole said.
“Oh, but there were. Violet took her two favorites, Cassiopeia and Bob, to her grandma’s.”
Despite her misery, Nicole chuckled. “Bob the unicorn?”
Chelsea grinned. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”
“Did I sound like a blubbering idiot when I showed up at your door?”
“Your whole life got flipped upside down. It’s understandable you’d be upset.”
Upset didn’t begin to cover how she felt. Devastated. Gutted. Even those didn’t come close.
Nicole’s initial instinct had been to find a hotel as originally planned when she’d first arrived in Hornwood. But prompted by her need to talk with someone, she made a spur-of-the-moment detour to Chelsea’s house. Once she showed up, sobbing out her story, Chelsea insisted she stay.
“You obviously can’t go back home.”
“I never want to see that woman again.”
“She’s your mother.”
“Mothers don’t lie to their daughters for twenty-seven years.”
She’d broken down again, thinking about her dad and how ravaged he must have been. He’d never let on the truth, even after she’d showed up on his doorstep as a seventeen-year-old running from Hornwood. He’d loved her unconditionally—affection, devotion, and loyalty that remained steadfast up until he drew his last breath. Even now, he was probably looking down from Heaven, hurting because she was hurting.
“I always I thought I got my dark hair from my dad. Janie was blonde like Glory. Mom used to—“ She stopped abruptly, swallowing the name. Over the last few days, it had come so easily, now it stuck like a thorn. “Glory used to call me her golden girl with the dark hair.”
Chelsea regarded her steadily. “I remember.”
Why did it hurt so badly to recall that term of affection? She’d regained her mother’s love only to have something far worse than guilt drive them apart. “How could she lie to me like that?”
“I don’t think she did it by choice.”
“Are you going to take her side?”
“There are no sides in this, Nic. Only pain. But I will play devil’s advocate.”
Nicole arched a brow. She had no tears left, hollow and numb. “How?”
“Let’s see.” Chelsea tapped a finger against her lips. She paced to the foot of the bed where the giant purple unicorn stood sentry. “This is Oberon. He’s very good at deciding matters. At least for me and Violet.”
Nicole sniffled. “Not Bob. Oberon?”
“Bob’s more of a…” Chelsea spread her hands. “Um… an Aragorn type unicorn.”
“Aragorn from Lord of the Rings?”
“Yeah. Think of Oberon like Gandalf. He’s wise. Not a wizard, but a sage. So…” She pivoted, performing a little bow before the unicorn’s glittery gold horn. “My friend is hurting badly, Oberon, and she has a right to. But I think she’s overlooked something important.”
Nicole hugged a pillow to her chest, watching as Chelsea strolled from one end of the bed to the other. Her friend seemed to be choosing what to say, carefully weighing each word before speaking. In high school, she’d been an excellent debater. Now, she reminded Nicole of an attorney addressing a jury, not a unicorn colored the same shade as a giant purple grape.
“Was her mother, Glory Larkin, deceitful?” Chelsea asked the room at large. “Yes. Did she maintain silence out of a desire to hurt others? That doesn’t seem the case.”
“She did it for her.” Nicole couldn’t hold her tongue, bitterness and venom bleeding into her voice. “She’s selfish. It’s always been about her. No one else matters.”
“Ah! But do they?” Chelsea raised a pointer finger, clearly engaged in her role as devil’s advocate. “If your mother is as selfish as you say, why didn’t she take the deal Bryce offered?” Swiftly, she rounded the bed, pressing her point as she approached Nicole’s side. “She could have had everything she’d always wanted. A Hollywood career. Money. Fame. It was all hers for the taking. All she had to do was abort her baby.”
Nicole’s bottom lip quivered. She hugged the pillow tighter and looked away.
“All she had to do” —Chelsea slid onto the bed, her voice dropping— “was kill you.”
Tears Nicole didn’t think she possessed slid down her cheeks. She knuckled them away with one hand. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because I’m your friend.” Chelsea gripped her arms. Forced her to shift so they regarded one another eye to eye. “I’m not agreeing with your mom’s silence, but I do think you should consider the other side of what she did. It sounds to me like she sacrificed her career to give you life. She was just scared about how to make that life by herself. She was pregnant and unemployed.”
“Her family owned Larkin’s restaurant.”
“And she was coming home in shame. Someone who didn’t make it in her chosen profession. The movie that was supposed to turn her into a household name had bombed. Probably the last thing she wanted to do was admit she was pregnant.”
“Instead, she used my father.”
“He loved her.”
That much was true. Everybody loved Glory Larkin, but the boy who’d carried a torch for her in high school was probably the one who’d loved her the most. “The sad part is, I don’t know if she loved him or if he was just a convenient answer to the problem.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Chelsea threw her hands in the air. “You saw your parents together. I saw them together. They clearly loved one another.”
“Then why couldn’t they make it work?”
“Because your dad was a proud and stubborn man. What your mom kept from him hurt too deeply.”
“Like it has me.”
“No. Not like you.” Chelsea shoved to her feet, staring down on Nicole. What had started as a game—devil’s advocate and an argument presented to Oberon—morphed into a legitimate cause. Chelsea had clearly chosen where she stood. “You still have a chance to make amends. I know your mom hurt you. More than anyone could possibly conceive, but Nic—“ Her face contorted as though she carried the pain herself. “You’ve made so much progress these last several days. You were happy having your mom back in your life. I know you were. Just think about what I said before you close the door completely.”
Nicole’s cellphone dinged.
She flipped it over, Chelsea’s appeal reverberating in her head. The text message on the screen was from her mom.
Please, can we talk?
Nicole flipped the phone off without replying.
Chelsea was a sweetheart for opening her home, but Nicole needed time to herself. If she were honest, she wanted to mope. Especially after Chelsea’s appeal.
Think about what I said before you close the door completely.
What did it matter? Nicole existed in a fog of feeling sorry for herself and feeling betrayed. Chelsea tried to distract her with movies, pool time, and wine, but after two days of brooding, she had to get out of the house. If only for the sake of Chelsea and Kevin, who had to be impacted by her sulking but were too kind to say anything.
After several attempts with no reply, Glory stopped texting. Nicole wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed, confusion and anger her most common friends. Her mom phoned twice, but each time Nicole rejected the calls.
On Monday, she found herself at Glory’s Place in the off hours between lunch and dinner, uncertain if she sought a confrontation or hoped to avoid one. After the argument they’d had, Glory was most likely to lie low for several days. If she needed companionship, she’d call Jude for a shoulder to cry on. The police chief would soothe her fears and assure her she was loved.
Whenever there was upheaval in her life, Glory needed to know someone loved her.
Sad, really. She wasn’t just selfish, but weak, too.
Except she wasn’t.
