Chapter Nine
I’m ashamed of the way I drag myself through, and ultimately waste, these last few days of the year.
I’ve always relied on my gut. Apparently when my gut fails me, I have no fallback and absolutely no talent for weighing and thinking. As any procrastinator knows, the longer you put something off, the harder it becomes. The pebble I began pushing up the hill months ago has grown into a Sisyphean-size boulder. I don’t know how to budge it.
New Year’s Eve is a quiet affair. Bitsy’s visiting a former neighbor in Palm Beach. Avery is out with Chase while my father is out with a woman none of us have met. Nikki and Joe are staying in with the babies. My mother could be at Mermaid Point with Will, but I think she’s afraid to leave me alone in my misery.
I am well and truly ashamed of myself and my dithering. Mom handled much harder decisions and situations with poise, yet I seem to be wringing every agonizing moment out of this.
Mom, Dustin, and I spend the evening in pajamas. Because I promised Dustin he could stay up until the New Year, he conks out at his usual bedtime. I think I conk out not long after he does. Mom wakes me in plenty of time to watch the ball drop. Moonlight is glinting on the water when I take Max outside. Dustin’s eyelids don’t even flutter as I carry him upstairs and tuck the two of them in. My mother hovers in the doorway briefly and we look at each other. We both know this is not ideal, but we made it through exactly one night of trying to put them to sleep separately and given the packing and prepping we’ve been doing for the move, neither of us has the strength for it.
We watch the excitement in Times Square curled up in our pajamas on the salon couch and I’m pathetically grateful that I’m not alone. I sigh.
My mother brings her knees to her chest and looks at me. “So, have you made a decision?”
“Not quite.”
Her eyes widen slightly. My mother is incredibly patient, but this is not a bible story and she is not Job.
“We move to the cottage tomorrow. We finish cleaning up Bella Flora tomorrow afternoon. After that it belongs to our tenant.”
I nod, wishing I could deny it. There is no last-minute reprieve coming from the governor. The deadline has come. It should be a relief, but the ramifications of this decision hang over me like Damocles’ sword. There is no win-win possibility, at least not as far as I’m concerned. If there were, I would have already chosen it.
“Kyra. This is it. Yes or no.”
“I know,” I say miserably. “I don’t want him in that film. He’s only four and I know how grueling it will be and how real that kidnapping scenario could feel.”
Her eyes remain on my face.
“And I don’t want to be on that set with him and Daniel and Tonja and their family.” Well, at least I’ve finally come out and said it. My mother’s look tells me this conversation isn’t over, and that I don’t get any points for admitting the obvious. “And I don’t want the two of us to be in the center of the media storm. It’s bad enough now when they show up to get an occasional shot or two. But that . . . that will be a category-five hurricane with an epic tidal surge.”
She holds my eyes with hers. “Then don’t do it. Say no. And live with the fallout. We’re all prepared to do that if we have to. Just choose what’s right for Dustin. That’s all any of us want.”
For some reason their understanding makes it harder, not easier. I am a mass of contradictions. None of them make sense.
“But just remember,” she continues. “That even if he doesn’t do this film, Dustin will always be Daniel’s son. And you’ll always be the woman who gave birth to his son out of wedlock. It might be better to learn how to handle it rather than hide from it.” She’s still looking me directly in the eye. “Better for both of you.”
I want to jump up and leave the room. I want to end this conversation and never have it again. But she does not drop her eyes or give me an inch of room to run. “So, I’ll ask you once more. If you feel that strongly about avoiding the set and the attention, why haven’t you already said no?”
I want to go outside and howl at the moon, which is now huge and high in the winter sky. My mother is still watching me. Waiting. In her quiet way she is as undeniable as the tides that moon controls.
“Because I’m afraid that Tonja is right, and that Dustin won’t forgive me for not letting him help his father.”
My mother’s eyes probe as sharply as scalpels. I feel like I did when I was a child and told only half the truth. Will I ever know my son as well as she knows me?
“And?”
I swallow, but the truth can no longer be held back or denied. Not even from myself. “And although Daniel never really loved me as much as he pretended to, he does love Dustin that much. And he’s been far more than generous to all of us.” Her silence forces me to finish the admission. “It feels wrong not to help. I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive myself for not helping.” I grimace. “I absolutely hate the idea of giving Tonja what she wants. And I feel like I’m selling Dustin somehow to compensate for the mistakes I’ve made.”
Mom sits back against the sofa. “I think you’re confusing the issues here, Kyra. Piling them all on top of one another.” Her smile is wry but gentle. “The money is only a small part of it. I think you know that. Or you will if you let go of all the side issues and focus on what matters most.”
I wait for her to tell me what to do, but she’s watching my face. In the end all she says is, “You’re Dustin’s mother. As a mother there’s only one question you have to answer.”
“And that is?”
“What will be best for my child?”
I walk upstairs still uncertain. But when I crawl into bed I feel the tension I’ve been carrying around for so long begin to seep out of me. I lay my head on the pillow and sleep the sleep of the dead. No dreams. No nightmares. Although it’s not the incoming “ding” of an arriving answer, something wakes me just before sunrise on New Year’s Day.
I get up and go to the window to look out over the grounds and across the water. I stretch. A while later the scent of coffee reaches my nostrils, and I pad into Dustin’s room. Max opens one eye then burrows back underneath Dustin’s chin. And I just know.
Quietly, I pull the bedroom door closed behind me and feel the weight I’ve been carrying evaporate. I’ve made my decision. It’s one that I’m pretty sure I can live with.
Dustin and I are going to Orlando to do The Exchange. Not because of the money or the threats or for any other reason than because Daniel is Dustin’s father. Period. Making Tonja’s life better is just an unfortunate consequence.
I move to the back stairs, eager now to tell my mother.
Mom greets me as I enter the kitchen and one eyebrow goes up in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to emulate. I can see in her smile that she knows. “Good for you.” She puts her arms around me and hugs me so tightly I can feel both our heartbeats. “I knew you’d figure it out. I’m sure they’re up and eagerly awaiting your call.”
“I don’t know,” I say as I step back. “I think I’m kind of hungry.” In fact I can feel my appetite returning. And maybe even my sense of humor. “Let’s have breakfast. Maybe we can make pancakes and sausage so we’ll have strength for the move today.”
“But I’m sure Daniel is waiting to . . .”
“I don’t think I need to let them know right this minute, do you, Mom?” I feel a smile spread across my face.
If I’m going to give them what they want, I’m going to do it on my terms. Dustin can work for scale, not a million-dollar bribe. And I’ll go along like any mother of a child actor might. But I won’t lie. I kind of like the idea of making Tonja and Daniel sweat at least a little bit.
Mom pulls eggs and bread and milk out of the refrigerator while I pour myself a cup of coffee.
“So you’ll call them after breakfast?” she asks as she begins to crack eggs into a bowl.
“Sure. Or maybe after lunch.” I hear Dustin moving upstairs and a happy woof from Max. I feel so light I’m almost surprised my feet are still touching the ground. “Or I might call later this afternoon. You know, after the move.” Oh, who am I kidding? I’m going to make them sweat as much as possible before I say yes. “Technically, I believe I have until midnight tonight to let them know.”