Adulation (7 page)

“And not one of them recycled.”

“And how is this a repeat if it’s set in a radio station?”

“It’s political,” argued Danny.

“Look, anything you do in television from now on is going to be compared to
 
Winters
, just like everything you do in film from now on is going to be compared to
 
Exposed
.”

Danny shuddered. “Every time someone tells me that I need a Xanax.”

“
 
Winters in Hyannis
 
is your
 
Pet Sounds
, Danny,” said Ken. “Embrace it. Have you heard what Brian Wilson has been up to?”

“You’re not talking about the baseball player, right?”

Ken gave Danny a look that proved he knew Danny was joking, but refused to indulge. “He did an album of Gershwin covers.”

“Really?” Danny, a fan of both the former Beach Boy and George Gershwin, was surprised he hadn’t heard about this sooner.

“You know what it really was?” said Ken. “Gershwin meets
 
Pet Sounds
. And it was fucking

awesome just the same. You know why?”

“Because
 
Pet Sounds
 
is fucking brilliant and people can’t get enough of it. Including Brian Wilson. There’s a reason why he called it
 
Pet Sounds
.” Danny finished his Diet Coke and felt unsatisfied. “But I really wanted to do something lighter this time, Ken. Something with comedy and romance rather than the political stuff.”

“You’re good at the political stuff. Politics is conflict and argument, and that’s your forte. Comedy and romance? Really? Too fluffy for you.”

“Romance has plenty of conflict and argument.”

“Yours does, maybe.”

Shit.

After talk about timelines, casting, and budget projections for the new show, Ken held up a hand to catch the server’s attention and asked for the check. He then took out his wallet and credit card.

“Look, you’re obviously way too swamped with the premiere to think about all this. Forget the show for now. Think about it, write a pilot, and come see me when it’s done.”

“Sure thing, Ken.”

Back at the office, Danny called Ella and left a message on her voice mail. “Hey, El. It’s your decrepitold dad. I was just checking to see if you were back from Dallas yet and free for dinner. I’m on a plane to New York tomorrow. Um...” He hesitated for a second, wanting to say more, but at a loss for words. Perhaps he’d used his day’s allotment in the script. “Anyway, give me a call, darlin’. Love you.”

Ten minutes later his iPhone rang. The obnoxious pop song.

“El?” he asked, as if doubtful.

“You called?” said Ella, followed by what sounded like gum popping.

“Yes, I did, from my office phone. Didn’t you listen to the message?”

“Why should I listen to the message when I’m talking to you now?”

“So that I don’t have to repeat myself.”

“What’s so bad about repeating yourself?”

“I don’t like the sound of my voice.”

She huffed. “Is it really that hard to be you?” Danny couldn’t help but laugh; she was teasing himwith one of his favorite phrases.

“Hey, I don’t go to therapy for nuthin’,” he replied.

“Ugh,” she said. “I hate when you tell me things like that.”

These days it was hard for Danny to tell when he was going to get his sweet little girl who calledhim Daddy and when he was going to get the teenager whose father was an embarrassment to her. “It’shardly news to you,” he said.

“Yes, but I don’t need to be
 
reminded
 
of it.” She huffed again. “So why’d you call?”

Danny couldn’t tell if she was genuinely annoyed with him. “Well, I’m flying out to New York for

the
 
Exposed
 
premiere tomorrow, so I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight.”

“I can’t.”

He felt a wave of disappointment crash over him. “You’re still in Dallas?”

“No, I got back a couple of hours ago.”

“Then how come?”

“Um...”

Danny instantly recognized her hesitation.

“Oh, don’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?” He could tell Ella was stalling.

“What’s his name, El?”

She paused before speaking, as if contemplating the consequences of divulging the information.

“You know Johnny Timber from the band Avalon Gone?”

Of course he knew Avalon Gone. He still owned their albums on vinyl.

“Yesss...” he said cautiously, not liking where this was going.

“His son Richie goes to my school.”

Ella was enrolled in a private school attended by many children of celebrities ranging from rockstars to politicians.

Danny’s stomach did a somersault.

“Does Johnny Timber do drugs?”

“How should I know?” asked Ella.

“Does Richie do drugs?”

“Dad!”
 
Now
 
she was genuinely annoyed.

“How long has this been going on?”

“He officially asked me out after marching band practice a couple of weeks ago.”

Something about this amused him. “Johnny Timber’s son is in the marching band?”

“He’s the best drummer we have. I’m tellin’ ya, Dad. The kid’s a natural.”

This sounded like something a parent would say. Yet another side to Ella—the one who was maturing into a young adult right before his eyes.

“So, what, are you two going steady or something?”

She laughed. “Going steady? Please. How
 
American Graffiti
 
can you get?”

That his fourteen-year-old daughter just referenced
 
American Graffiti
—or rather, something symbolic of its time, made his heart swell with pride.

“Well?” he asked.

“We just go to the mall or the movies and stuff,” she said. “And we’re chaperoned at home. Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not gonna get knocked up or anything.”

Danny bowed his head, put his free hand to his eyes and covered them. “Keep up talk like that and you’re going to prolong my therapy, you know.”

“Sorry,” she said.

He couldn’t tell if she was apologizing for getting a boyfriend, growing up, or rejecting his dinner invitation. Nevertheless, he felt bad for all three reasons.

“It’s OK, El. I miss you, though.”

“Yeah, I miss you too. How’s the writing going?”

“It’s going well,” he lied. “See you soon?”

“We’ll Skype while you’re in New York.”

He nodded in resignation. “Sure.”

“Are you going to see Charlene while you’re there?”

Ella was eleven when Danny and Charlene started dating, and at first she had been charmed by Charlene’s poise and beauty (and who could blame her?) but conflicted because she didn’t want to betray her loyalty to her mother. She’d also gone through a jealous streak, accusing him of wanting to be with Charlene more than her, which crushed him—that Ella could think he put
 
anyone
 
above her! Lately, however, rather than being resentful of his time spent away from her, she seemed indifferent to it. He almost wished she’d yell at him again, call and ask why he didn’t see her enough. Frannie had assured him that this was female adolescence. Teenage girls hated their parents.

(“I thought they hated their mothers and attached to their fathers,” Danny had said in response.

“They do hate their mothers,” said Frannie. “They think their fathers are stupid.”)

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Maybe if we can get our schedules to match. I’ll barely have a moment to breathe what with the premiere and all the nonsense that goes with it.”

“I’m really proud of you, Dad.”

Danny choked up for a moment. The president of the United States—hell, God himself—could have said the same thing and it wouldn’t have meant as much as it did coming from Ella.

“Thanks, hon. I’m really proud of you too.”

“For what?” she asked, snapping her gum again.

“Do I need a reason?”

She didn’t answer, and he could almost see her shrugging.

“Well, have a good time with what’s-his-name,” said Danny.

“Richie,” said Ella.

Derelict,
 
he thought.
 
Future recovering addict. Fucking
 
drummer
.

“Yes, Richie.”

He said good-bye, put the phone on the desk, and turned his attention back to his laptop. The damn cursor was mocking him yet again.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sunny Smith

T
HE 40 FOR
 
40 list sat atop the stack of books the following morning, looming over me like some to-do listfrom hell. I perused its contents with a sense of hopelessness, its impossible expectations showing noparticular order of importance:

Change name

Self-publish novels

Sleep with Danny Masters

Exercise

Redecorate each room in apt. for $40 apiece

De-clutter

Organize closets

Get makeover

Get a spa treatment

Travel somewhere that requires getting on a plane

Go on 10 dates (same person or separate)

Start a new novel

Submit short stories to magazines

See a Broadway show

Attend a concert

Buy flowers once a week

Save $10 per week

Join a Meetup

Go to a sporting event

Sign up for tennis lessons

Go out to dinner with parents on day not marked by special occasion

Attend tree-lighting at Rockefeller Center

See Radio City Christmas

Spectacular without heckling

Read 40 books

Download music recorded in this century

Up fruits and veggies servings per day

Try one new recipe per week

Keep a plant alive

Get a pet

Move someplace that allows pets

Get rid of all Suave products

Volunteer somewhere

Take up painting

Attend a writers’ conference

Host a dinner party with more than Georgie, Marcus, and Theo as guests

Finish a New York Times crossword puzzle

Sell the Old Banana

Go out to the movies twice a month, or rent one new movie once a week

Wear lipstick every day

Theo had gone home sometime before one a.m., while Georgie had fallen asleep beside me. Icalled in sick to work and buried myself under the covers. A congested cough had taken over my sorethroat and runny nose. Georgie, who was in the bathroom while I was on the phone to Whitford’s,emerged with a jar of VapoRub for me. “I’m going home to die,” he informed me, his eyes red andwatery. “I’ve got your cold, darling.”