JOEY CAUGHT HER LOOKING AT him a few times, but that was about as near as he got to the delectable Ms. Ivory. He kept his distance, well aware she must be so used to men going ape shit over her that the only way he had a chance was to make her realize he was different.
He sat at the bar playing background all day, waiting for them to reach his scene—which they never did on account of the fact that Kyle Carson was the slowest actor on two legs and seemed incapable of getting anything right.
Trinee kept him company between shots, giving him a running commentary on everyone involved with the film. She’d warmed up considerably since he’d told her that he too was engaged.
“Tell me about Lara Ivory,” he asked casually. “What’s she really like?”
“Oh, everyone loves Lara,” Trinee replied. “She’s very popular. No big-star trips with that lady.” She shot him a quick glance. “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
Joey nodded. “Who’s she sleeping with?”
“How would I know?”
“C’mon, Trinee, if she’s in bed with someone it must be all over the set.”
“Word is she doesn’t do it with just anyone.”
“How come?”
“She’s particular.” Trinee yawned, bored with talking about Lara. “So,” she said, “your fiancée gonna visit us?”
“She might,” Joey answered vaguely. “How about yours?”
“Marek’s coming for the weekend,” Trinee said with a huge grin. “An’, man, this girl can’t wait!”
• •
That night Lara had a long phone conversation with Nikki. They spoke about Richard and his satisfaction with her performance and the way the editing was going on French Summer. Then they discussed The Dreamer, and Lara began telling Kyle Carson tales.
Nikki started to laugh—she couldn’t get enough. “He sounds like the definitive Mister Big Star,” she said. “A true pain in the ass.”
“You’ve got that right,” Lara responded. “And slow. The crew are calling him ten-take Kyle!” They both giggled. “How’s Summer doing?”
“I can’t control her,” Nikki said. “All she cares about is parties, parties and more parties!”
“It’s her age,” Lara assured her. “She fails to see you as a mother figure. After all, you’re only seventeen years older than her; she’s probably a little jealous.”
“Nonsense,” Nikki said firmly. “Why would Summer be jealous of me? She’s gorgeous.”
“So are you—plus you have personality, a great career and a well-known and respected husband.”
“No,” Nikki said. “It’s not the jealousy thing. Girls Summer’s age think everyone’s a raving idiot, and that they’re the smartest person on the planet. I know I was like that, weren’t you?”
“I don’t remember,” Lara said quickly.
Nikki knew Lara didn’t like talking about her childhood; it obviously hadn’t been very happy. All she knew was that Lara’s parents had been killed in a car crash when she was very young, and that she’d been raised by various relatives. Once she had asked Richard what he knew about her.
“Lara doesn’t get into her past,” he said. “Leave it alone.” So she had.
“Anyway,” Lara continued. “Don’t worry about Summer; she’ll come around.”
“I sure hope so,” Nikki said glumly. “I’m beginning to feel like nag of the year.”
“I’ll read the script as soon as it gets here,” Lara promised.
“Then call me at once. Can’t wait to get your reaction.”
Lara put the phone down and wandered out onto the back deck, staring out into the darkness. She wanted to walk along the beach, but not by herself. The dark was too scary.
Sometimes everything was too scary . . . especially when the memories came back to haunt her. The nightmare memories . . .
• •
“Scaredy cat!” Andy, her older brother, yelled in her face. “Skinny little scaredy cat!”
“I’m not! I’m not!” Lara Ann responded.
“Yes you are,” said Andy. He was eight and very handsome. When they weren’t fighting, Lara Ann worshiped him.
“Mommy, Mommy—can I have another piece of chicken?” Lara Ann asked.
“What, honey?” Ellen, her mother, seemed distracted as she moved around the kitchen.
“More chicken, Mommy. It’s sooo yummy.”
“Sorry, honey, I have to save some for your daddy.”
“Why must we wait for him?” demanded Andy. “He’s always late.”
“ ’Cause Mama says we have to,” Lara Ann said primly.
“You shut up,” Andy said, sticking out his tongue behind his mother’s back.
“No, you shut up,” Lara Ann retorted, red in the face. “Mama’s always right—aren’t you, Mama?”
“Hush, both of you,” Ellen said, brushing back a loose strand of hair. She was an exquisitely pretty woman, with wide-set hazel eyes and natural blond hair that fell in soft waves below her shoulders.
Lara Ann gazed up at her mother and sighed wistfully. “I wanna be just like you one day, Mommy. You’re sooo pretty.”
“Thank you, darling,” Ellen said, removing a carton of chocolate ice cream from the freezer. “You’re pretty too.”
“No she’s not,” taunted Andy. “She’s a stupid, dumb girl.”
“Can I be a famous artist when I grow up, Mama?” Lara Ann asked, ignoring him. She’d been thinking about school and all the fun she’d had in painting class. “Can I?”
“You can be whatever you want, my sweet,” Ellen answered, gently touching her daughter’s cheek.
“I know what you can be,” sneered Andy. “You can be the ugliest girl on the block.”
“I’ve told you once, Andy,” Ellen said crossly, “and I’m not telling you again. Do not be mean to your little sister.”
“I’m not mean,” Lara Ann said proudly. “I’m nice.”
“You’re mean, too,” Andy retorted. “Mean! Mean! Mean!”
“No. I’m. Not.”
“Yes. You. Are.”
“Will you two behave yourselves,” Ellen exclaimed. “I’m not in the mood today.”
“Can I watch Charlie’s Angels, please, Mama?” Lara Ann asked.
“No, I wanna see Dukes of Hazzard,” Andy interrupted.
“It’s Lara Ann’s turn to choose,” Ellen said. “Tonight you’ll both watch Charlie’s Angels.”
“Piss!” Andy said.
Ellen frowned. “What did you say?”
“Piss! Piss! Piss!”
“When your father gets home he’ll wash your mouth out with soap, young man.”
“Don’ care.”
“You will when he hears what you’ve been saying.”
“Mama,” Lara Ann asked, her pretty little face completely innocent. “What’s a cocksucker?”
“What? What did you say?” Andy began to snigger. “Where did you hear a word like that?” Ellen asked, her cheeks flushing red.
“Daddy said it one day about Mr. Dunn.”
“Your daddy does not use language like that.”
“He does! He does! I heard him.”
“No, he doesn’t. And don’t ever say that word again. It’s a very bad word.”
“What’s it mean, Mama?”
“I know what it means,” Andy said, smirking. “It’s when a man puts his dickie in a stupid girl’s mouth.”
Ellen turned on him angrily. “Stop it, Andy. Stop it right now!”
At that moment the door opened, and Lara Ann’s father, Dan, walked in. He was a big, blustery man—handsome, although heavy around the jowls, with a gut that was growing every day.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Lara Ann squealed, running over to him, throwing herself into his arms. Dan swept up his little daughter, hugging and kissing her. She smelled liquor on his breath, but she was used to it. Her father owned a liquor store, and every Saturday morning he took her there. Sometimes, when it wasn’t busy, they’d sit in the back and he’d let her drink as many Coca-Colas as she could manage, while he’d swig scotch from the bottle and warn her not to tell.
“Can I have half your chicken, Daddy?” she asked, cuddling up to him.
“You’re late,” Ellen said, moving over to the stove, sounding grumpy.
“Glad you noticed,” Dan replied, putting Lara Ann down.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ellen asked.
“You know what it means,” he said, swaying slightly.
“No, I don’t.”
Dan pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, sat down and told the two children to go in the other room and watch TV.
“I wanna stay with you, Daddy,” Lara Ann objected, clinging to his hand.
“No, pumpkin,” he said, giving her a little shove. “I’ll see you after I’ve had my dinner.”
“C’mon, scaredy cat,” Andy said, pulling her arm.
Ellen wagged a warning finger at her handsome son. “Don’t forget—Charlie’s Angels.”
Lara Ann sat quietly in front of the television, staring at Farrah Fawcett and her glorious mane of golden curls. Andy picked up a toy car and began zooming it around the living room floor, making loud car noises. “Be quiet, Andy,” she said.
“No!” he said, sticking out his tongue again. “You’re a stupid girl. Girls gotta shut up.”
“No they don’t.”
“Yes they do.”
“No they don’t.”
They were so busy arguing that at first they didn’t hear the raised voices coming from the kitchen.
Then Andy said, “They’re fighting again—shush!”
“Bitch!” They heard Dan shout. “Cheating bitch!”
Then Ellen’s voice. “How dare you accuse me.”
“I’ll accuse you of what I want. Everybody in town’s talking about you and that dentist! It’s not just your teeth he’s filling, Ellen . . . it’s not just your fucking teeth.”
“Elliott Dunn is nothing more than a friend.”
“Yeah, a friend who screws your ass off.”
The raised voices frightened Lara Ann. “What are they talking about?” she whispered.
“Dunno,” Andy said.
“I refuse to be the laughingstock of this town,” Dan yelled. “Oh no—not me. Not Dan Leonard.”
“People like to gossip; there’s nothing going on.”
“Says you.”
“It’s the truth.” A moment of silence; then, “Dan . . . Oh my . . . what are you doing? What are you doing?”
“Defending my fucking manhood. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
“Don’t be silly, Dan.” Ellen’s voice rose in panic. “This . . . isn’t . . . sane. PLEASE DON’T . . . DON’T . . . NOOO!”
There was a terrifically loud explosion. Lara Ann jumped and covered her ears. She knew something bad had happened.
Andy leaped up.
“Don’t go,” Lara Ann whimpered, clinging to his arm. “I’m frightened, Andy. Stay here with me.”
“I gotta go see,” he said, pulling away and running into the kitchen.
Lara Ann cowered on the couch. She heard her father bellow something, then the sound of a short struggle and, after that, another loud explosion.
She stayed exactly where she was, still covering her ears.
Suddenly her father ran into the room with a wild look in his eyes. “C’mon, pumpkin,” he said, pulling her up.
His eyes were all bloodshot and scary, but she loved her father more than anything in the world, so she didn’t argue.
“Where are we going, Daddy?” she asked meekly.
“Away from here,” he muttered, scooping her into his arms and carrying her through the kitchen.
Sprawled on the kitchen floor was her mother, a thin spiral of smoke snaking out of a gaping hole in her chest.
Slumped by the door was her brother, his head blown half away. There was blood everywhere.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Lara Ann began to scream. “Mommy’s been hurt. Mommy’s bleeding. So’s Andy.”
He wasn’t listening. He carried her out the door and almost threw her in the back of his car. Then he jumped in the driver’s seat and they roared away from the house.
“Daddy, Daddy,” she whimpered, so frightened she could scarcely breathe. “What happened? Why’s my mommy on the floor? Why’s Andy all bloody?”
“Nothing happened,” he muttered, picking up a bottle of scotch from the seat next to him and taking a swig. “They’ll be fine.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, bringing her knees up to her chest. “Daddy, something bad happened! Who did that to Mommy and Andy? Who did it?”
“Your mother got what she deserved,” he muttered. “Cheating bitch!”
Lara Ann began to cry, big gulping sobs that shook her entire body.
Dan drove to a motel, stopped at the desk and got a key. Next he parked outside a room and carried her inside. She was still crying, a river of silent tears running down her face. She loved her father, and yet she knew in her heart he’d done something terribly bad.
“Sit down and watch the TV,” he ordered gruffly.
“I wanna go home,” she whimpered.
“Do as I say. Switch on the TV, and don’ start whining like your mother.”
He slumped into a chair, taking another swig from the bottle of scotch, which was now almost empty.
Her daddy had never spoken to her so harshly, but she knew his anger had something to do with the bottle in his hand. Andy had told her that when people drank stuff like that they got drunk. And when they were drunk they got sick and talked in a funny way. Her daddy was sick.
As the evening wore on, she grew more and more exhausted. Her father went out to the car and came back with another full bottle of scotch. She peeked at him as he drank the whole bottle, muttering to himself.
Later that night she heard the sound of police sirens in the distance. Her father heard it too, because he sat up very straight and stared right at her. “Y’look jus’ like your mother,” he said, slurring his words. “You’re pretty, but inside you’re a slut, like your mother. An . . . ugly . . . little . . . slut. Thass what all women are. Unnerstan’ me?”
Her eyes filled with more tears that rolled down her cheeks. Her father had never said such horrible things to her before. She’d always been his favorite, he’d always loved her.
Her world was crumbling and there was nothing she could do. “I want Andy,” she cried out. “And I want my mommy.”
Dan took a gun from his pocket.
Lara Ann stared at the harsh glint of metal. He was going to shoot her, just like she’d seen people get shot on Charlie’s Angels, just like he’d shot Mama and Andy. She wouldn’t even have a chance to grow up.
“Daddy—” she started to say, her little face puckering.
“Doncha ever forget,” he mumbled, his mouth twitching. “Inside you’re an ugly slut, jus’ like your cheatin’ mother.”
Then he put the gun in his mouth and blew his brains out.
Blood and hair and pieces of flesh splattered all over her.
She was six years old.
• •
After a while, Lara went back inside, contemplating another long, lonely night.
It was okay; she was used to being by herself. She’d manage. She always had.