California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances (93 page)

“I am doing something. I go to work every day. I help with the baby and the kitchen garden.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“My work is fun. Besides, I read.” A small lie. Mandy went into her bedroom every day for a few hours, but it wasn’t to read. Instead, she slept or lay there with her eyes open, unable to gather the energy to do anything else.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You haven’t been the same since the movie thing shut down. Have you heard from James?”

“Once.” Mandy walked to the sink and began to rinse the lunch dishes.

“What did he have to say?”

“Actually, I called him … to tell him about the baby.”

“And?”

“There was no ‘and.’ That was it.” A plate clanked on the sink, but didn’t break.

Sarah crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I’m not buying it. What else?”

Sarah wouldn’t give up until Mandy gave her an answer. The woman had been like the proverbial dog with a bone ever since Hannah had been born.

“Okay. He’s got a job as a full location manager, not an assistant, on Beth Ann’s new movie. Sally wants me to help her cater. I told him no. There. You satisfied?” She glared at Sarah.

Sarah put her hands up. “Whoa. I just wanted to find out what’s going on.”

“You can’t leave it alone. I don’t want to be in the movie business. It wrecked my parents’ life. I’m fine the way I am.” She tossed a plate in the sink. This time it did break. She looked at the porcelain pieces, burst into tears, and fled the kitchen.

Once she reached her room, she flung herself on the bed and let the tears flow.

What was with her? One moment she was on top of the world, the next she was sobbing her heart out.

Was she crazy? Like her mother? The stay at the mental hospital had produced a diagnosis of bipolar disorder for Lola Parker. She was stable as long as she took her medicine. Mandy had done enough research to know the tendency could be inherited. Was that what was going on? Would she need to be on medication the rest of her life?

The door clicked open.

She’d forgotten to lock it behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered. “I didn’t mean to do this to you.” She sat on the bed next to Mandy and rubbed her lower back, like Mandy had seen her rub Hannah’s at night. “I just … I just … ” She let out a sigh. “Mandy, you’ve been so miserable. I guess I thought if I pushed you, I could discover why.”

Mandy didn’t say anything, but managed to slow her tears. “I’m okay,” she mumbled into the pillow.

“Are you? You’ve always been the one who’s seen possibilities. Remember when you got all those people together to help get the inn in shape? If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still be pulling down cobwebs.”

Mandy flipped over. “I guess I’m down on myself. I keep saying I want a catering business, but I’m not doing anything about it.”

“Maybe it’s not the right choice for you. Remember, I was going to work in environmental sciences before I met Rick.”

“Guess Hannah’s dad was good for something.”

Sarah smiled. “He also helped me create the most beautiful little girl in the world.”

“Anything new on that front?”

Sarah shook her head. “All I’m trying to say, Mandy, is you aren’t stuck in your choices. This is the time in your life when you get to change your mind. If catering isn’t working for you, then find something else.”

“But I love to cook.”

“Seems to me you’re being offered a chance to cook and a business on top of it.”

“In Hollywood.”

Sarah sighed. “I think you’re being a little obsessive about this whole Hollywood thing. You don’t have to be your mother. You can be you.”

Mandy shut her eyes. What if she
was
her mother?

Silence lingered.

Sarah patted Mandy’s arm. “I guess I’ll leave you alone.” The door clicked again as Sarah left the room.

Mandy opened her eyes and stared at the white painted ceiling. Should she talk to a psychiatrist? If she had inherited her mother’s bipolar disorder, getting on drugs early would be best, although maybe her mood swings were all in her mind.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

She thought about Lola. Had this been how it had begun for her? Why couldn’t Dana have been more patient, more understanding, gotten her help?

Why
had
it taken so long for her mother to get help?

Mandy pawed through her purse to find her phone, scrolled down her contacts, and clicked the send button when she reached her mother’s name.

“Oh, hi, darling,” Lola said after she answered the phone. “How are you? When are you coming home? I miss you, darling.”

“I’m okay.”

“Did I tell you I finally got this marvelous little part in a drama at the Paper Mill Playhouse? I’m so glad I kept my Equity membership all these years. Expensive, but worth it. I may be able to get my career on track after all. So you see—” Her tone turned wheedling. “That’s why I need you to come home. I need your help.”

Mandy knew she was supposed to ask her mother about the part, but decided not to play her role in the script they’d been acting most of their lives. “I know this is difficult, but I have to ask you a few questions … about … about your illness.”

“How’s your love life, darling? You know, a good man can make you feel so much better about yourself.”

“Lola. Please. Stop and listen to me. How did you know there was something wrong with you?”

“Darling. There’s nothing wrong with me. I … um … ” Her voice faltered. “I simply had a hard time dealing with your father’s infidelity. Trust me. If there were anything wrong with me, I would have taken care of it years ago. That’s why I keep warning you to stay away from those Hollywood men, Amanda. They will only cause you trouble.”

“But you were hospitalized. You’re taking medication.”

“I went a little crazy after your father left. That’s all. The pills. The pills make life a little easier. I could give them up tomorrow. There’s nothing wrong with me.” Lola’s voice brightened again. “In fact, I may do that soon. I’ve met the most marvelous man. He owns lots of car dealerships and he’s filthy rich. He’s thinking of investing in a play.”

Mandy listened to Lola drone on about the new man in her life for several minutes before ending the call.

Her mother wasn’t going to provide any help. If Mandy wanted to find out if she’d inherited the disease, she was going to have to seek help herself. The only problem was she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.

• • •

With sheer determination Mandy pulled herself together for the next two weeks of July. Concern thrummed in the back of her mind. She was perpetuating the same thing she’d been doing for the past two years. A change was needed, but a move in any direction might make her problems worse.

What if I wind up in a mental institute for the rest of my life?

The place Lola had stayed had been light and airy, the best her money could buy, but it still had locked doors and bars on the window. Mandy would die in such a place.

She hefted the tray of dirty dishes and walked back to the Costanoa Grill’s kitchen. Since the move ended, traffic had fallen off. It didn’t make any sense—it was still summer. The economy must be doing another roller coaster ride, just as it had since it tanked in 2008. Sometimes the grill was booked solid. Other times echoes bounced off the stone walls.

She set the tray down in the kitchen and turned to go back out to the floor.

“Mandy?” Her boss stuck her head out of her office. “Can I see you a minute?”

Mandy’s stomach clenched. “Sure.” She walked into the office, automatically shutting the door behind her.

“There’s no easy way to put this,” her boss said, fiddling with paper on her desk. “We’ve tried to keep everyone at their full hours throughout the recession, but the darn thing doesn’t seem to want to end. The owners are looking to retire. They want to sell the business, but they can’t until they bring expenses down.” She shook her head. “Everyone’s hours have been cut, including yours.” She handed Mandy a new schedule.

Mandy glanced it over. Her hours had been slashed in half. Tips had been down as well, customers sticking to the conservative fifteen percent.

Her boss put a hand on her arm. “We’ll get through this, Mandy. As soon as the economy improves, we can go back to running full time shifts.”

“When do you suppose that will be?” Mandy knew it was a dumb question.

Her boss rolled her eyes. “God knows, and he’s not telling.” She went behind her desk. “There aren’t very many customers out there. Why don’t you call it a day?”

“Yeah. See you—” Mandy consulted the schedule again. “Sunday.”

She left the office, hung up her apron, and walked down to the seawall.

Ocean waves crashed against the empty sand. The fog had stayed close to the shoreline, and it was cold. She sat on a wooden bench and drew her knees up to her chin.

She stared at the ocean and mentally added up her expenses. Sarah gave her a room for free in return for cooking breakfast and creating a few lunches and dinners when needed. Most of the time she took her other meals at the grill at a discount, or chipped in with Hunter and Sarah for food. Gas was ridiculously expensive, but she didn’t really drive anywhere except to work.

She’d been saving for a new car, but her fifteen-year-old Subaru would have to hold out a bit longer.

She could get by.

God, I’m sick of getting by!

Standing up from the bench she strode to the water’s edge. Her life was stagnant. The thought of marketing her catering business made her tired. It wasn’t that she expected things to fall into her lap, but she didn’t know the first thing about trying to convince people to use her as a caterer. She no longer woke up bursting with energy ready to start a new day. That hadn’t happened since the movie shoot ended.

She walked north on the sand, idly looking for beach glass.

What would happen if she took the job with Sally? Sally had a built-in clientele from years of being a movie caterer. She was thinking about retiring. What would happen to the business then? Whoever bought it, if they knew what they were doing, could make a good living. Sally had.

Do I have that ability?

Her track record sure didn’t show it. She had a culinary degree, but didn’t use it. She claimed she wanted a catering business, but didn’t work at getting more clients.

Her resume reflected who she was—an aimless drifter with no ambition.

She reached the point on the beach where the river met the sea, turned, and faced the ocean again, imagining people in small boats struggling against the ill-named Pacific to get to a better place. Some made it and some didn’t, but they all were willing to take the risk.

Am I ready to face my biggest fear—Hollywood?

She needed some answers to make the decision. There were a lot of players in Tinsel Town, but she knew at least one straight shooter.

She’d contact Sally tomorrow and get the answers to her questions.

Mandy was in her third cookdown for the lasagna Bolognaise she was making for dinner when Sarah walked into the kitchen, baby Hannah in her arms. Mandy wiped her hands and reached for the little one.

Sarah pulled back. “Oh, no you don’t. I just got her to sleep.”

“What happened? She’s usually so good.”

Sarah looked down at the infant, a rueful smile on her face. “Something I ate.” She looked suspiciously at the pot on the stove. “There’s not a lot of garlic in that, is there?”

“Nope. It’s one of the milder dishes I make.”

“Good thing.”

“Um. Sarah?” Mandy stirred the contents of the pot one more time before she joined Sarah at the kitchen table.

“What, honey?” Sarah’s dark eyes showed concern.

“They’ve cut back my hours at the grill. They say it’s just temporary, but—” She shrugged.

“Don’t worry.” Sarah waved a hand. “You do all the cooking and shopping anyway. There’s no need to pay for meals, and your rent here is covered already. You’ll make it until business picks up again. Besides, it will give you more time to market your catering business, if that’s what you want.”

Mandy shook her head. “I’m tired of being dependent on other people and scraping by just to make things worse. I’ve been stuck in this circle all my life. I need to do something to shake it up.”

She stood, stirred, and refilled her coffee cup. “I called the woman I worked for during the movie shoot—Sally.”

“You
did
?” Sarah’s voice squeaked. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with the film industry.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I wanted to explore the option.”

“Are you going to give up the catering business?”

“I hate marketing.”

Sarah laughed. “Tell me about it.”

“You’re
good
at it. To me it feels like I’m sucking up to every rich person in the county, begging them to try my
hors d’oervres
.” She shook her head. “It’s pretty humiliating.”

“You have to persevere, Mandy. It takes time.”

“Time I don’t have.”

“I told you. Your room and board are free for now.”

Irritation began a scratchy attack on Mandy’s throat. Why couldn’t anyone listen to her? “I heard you. And, I know if I left, you’d have to replace me.”

Hannah cooed and stretched, but didn’t wake. The action focused Sarah’s attention on the baby.

Good.
“Sally and I talked for a long time about the help she needs for a shoot in Yosemite, and what the future in movie catering is like.” Mandy picked a crumb off the table and flicked it into the sink. “It’s a tough gig. I’d have to learn to get the right license to drive the catering RV, producers are always trying to cut costs, and no surprise, actors can be a pain in the you-know-where.”

“Why do it then?”

“Sally did it all these years because she enjoyed the challenge, travel, and variety. She said some people do it so they can break into the Hollywood world of personal catering.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“No.” Mandy sat down and looked at Sarah intently. “Part of me wants to accept your offer, stay here, and pretend to be a caterer. It would be so easy. Far easier than facing any demons in Hollywood.” She traced the table’s wood grain with her finger. “I enjoyed the shoot in Davenport. It was crazy and hectic, but I felt alive for the first time in a long while. I want to do the Yosemite shoot and see where it leads.”