I Call Him Brady (17 page)

             
I frowned. “Because he’s Jack-fucking-Cole! What, you think I can just Google his address and then punch that shit into my GPS and roll up at his front door? I can’t! I had one link to him and I deleted it. It’s over. I blew it.”

             
“I don’t get it.” Leo was shaking her head at me.

             
She was really starting to piss me off. “What part?”

             
“The part where you’re making everything sound so impossible. Guess what, most people would think it was impossible to meet some hunky celebrity on an elevator and then wind up with more than some cheesy pic on Instagram. But it wasn’t, was it?! No, you met Jack Cole, sexiest man alive – don’t tell William I said that – and you lived out your own personal fantasy fairy tale. Now that the prince ran out, I don’t get why you’re so determined to overlook the glass slipper that’s bound to be around here somewhere.”

             
Much to my own surprise, I was grinning. “I’m sorry, now all I can do is picture Brady in heels.”

             
“Who the eff is Brady and what does he have to do with any of this?” Leo demanded. She clearly didn’t appreciate how easily I was getting off track after her rather persuasive argument.

             
“Brady is Jack, Jack is Brady. It’s what I call him.” The lightness of the previous moment was already fading. “So, you’re saying I should go all stalker on his ass and pin him down in another elevator.”

             
“I’m saying, nothing is impossible. And you ought to know that better than anyone. So, what’s really the hold up here?”

             
What was with everyone always trying to psycho-analyze my motives. Just once, couldn’t someone take my reasons at face value? Obviously not.

             
“Do we really have to do this Leo? I already got my lecture from May.”

             
She shrugged. “Apparently you need another one.”

             
“Why exactly is that so apparent?” I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the steering wheel trying to rest up for the next go around.

             
“Because you’re sitting here with
me
. I mean, clearly, I’m awesome, but even I wouldn’t choose myself over Jack Cole.”

             
“I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that when the novelty of it all wears off, he’ll see that I have nothing to offer.”

             
Leo looked at me confused. “Since when don’t you have anything to offer? Have you met you?”

             
“Haha, real funny.” I shook my head at her and then stared down at my own lap.

             
“I’m not trying to be funny, Embers. I am trying to understand though.” Leo sounded genuinely concerned now.

             
“What’s so hard to understand? Look at what he’s achieved in his life and then look at me. He’s used to dating super models. He’s insanely talented, makes a gazillion dollars every time he steps onto a movie set and let’s not forget about all of his charity work. Then there’s me. The single mom - with a post baby body I might add – who makes a moderate living working on a food truck. Nothing glamorous there. I haven’t achieved greatness. I’ve barely achieved squeaking by. And that’s here, in normal reality. I could never fit into his life on my own terms. I’d be a total burden to him and I can’t do that. Not now. Not after everything I went through with Austin and then trying to get my shit back together.” By the time I ended my rant I still hadn’t had the balls to look up and face Leo.

This whole thing was humiliating. I prided myself on being confident and strong. Capable and courageous. In the last couple of months, I hadn’t been any of those things. It was despicable. Even worse, other people were seeing it too.

              “Embers.” She paused and waited for me to make eye contact. “Why do you call Jack Cole, Brady?”

             
“Because when he and I are together, I don’t see Jack Cole, the famous actor. I just see him. And calling him Brady is like my own little way of having a piece of him no one else knows or sees. It’s real and it’s just mine.”

             
She nodded. “I thought maybe it was something like that. So, what you’re saying is that the fame and fortune and unnaturally good looks really have nothing to do with the man you’re in love with. In fact, you’ve gone so far as to completely separate that part of his life from the part he shares with you.”

             
“I guess…” I could tell she was going somewhere with this and I had a feeling it would wind up being really obvious once she did her full reveal.

             
“Then if the qualities you deem in him to be most important have nothing to do with his life as an A-list celebrity, wouldn’t it stand to reason that he finds the things you bring to the table not being a A-list celebrity just as valuable?”

             
“Maybe…”

             
“Embers. As you so eagerly pointed out to me, Jack Cole already possesses notoriety, money, and all things superficial. He doesn’t need you to provide those for him. However, I’m guessing he could use some of your kindness and compassion. Your unwavering love and your sick sense of humor.” She winked at me. “To name a few of your most admirable assets.”

             
“How can you be so sure?”

             
“Because Em, everyone needs more of those.”

I
t had been three days since I had talked to May. In the end she had told me to wait. Not do anything. Just wait. Easier said than done. But I tried reminding myself that really it was a good thing. That May was saying things would work out in the end. Or at least, that’s what I hoped she was saying.

In the meantime, the on location shoot had wrapped up and we were back out west where we would film the remainder of the movie at the studio. With the transition, I found myself with several days off and not much to do to fill them with since Cris had abandoned me and taken all of our friends with him until further notice.

I was sitting out on my deck drinking a beer, watching the waves and asking myself why I hadn’t been surfing in two months, when I heard someone calling from inside.

“Yoo-hoo. You here kiddo?” Even before I saw her I knew it was Moira.

“I’m out here,” I yelled back.

She walked out through the open doors behind me, bent down to kiss the top of my head and then took a seat in the chair beside me. “This is nice.”

Moira was dressed in her usual jeans and cowboy boots in spite of the ninety degree weather. In all the years I’d known her, this had been her go to ensemble. Well, from the waist down anyway. Above the belt varied a great deal. Today she was sporting some flowy see-through number over a white tank. Unlike my extremely uptight and perfectionist mother, her girlfriend always had a certain seventies rocker vibe about her with her long, curly brown hair and wrist wrap tattoos. I had heard a fight one night regarding a tat with my mother’s name on it somewhere on Moira’s body. To this day I had never seen it and I sincerely hoped I never would.

“Want one?” I pulled a fresh bottle from the ice bucket beside me.

“Always.” Moira had yet to turn down a Corona when offered one.

I popped the top off and slid a slice of lime in the opening, then handed her the bottle.

“Mom send you over here to check on me?”

Even mid sip I could see the grin form on her lips. “Of course not.”

“Liar.”

She leaned back in her chair and gazed out at the ocean. “She worries about you. That’s what mothers do.”

“That’s about the only thing she does that mothers do.” I placed my empty bottle back into the ice and reached for a new one.

“We’ll have to save the mommy and you therapy for another day. I came here for something else.”

I was almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

“Embers Fillios.”

I grimaced. “I take it you saw the article.”

She nodded, bottle still attached to her lips. Then, “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s complicated.”

Moira pulled herself up from her lounging position. “I gathered as much from our previous conversation. Come on kid, if anyone knows complicated, I do. Lay it on me.”

“You really want to know?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

I lifted my head slightly to look over at her. “I thought you were here on Mom’s orders?!”

Moira laughed dismissively. “Nah, I would have been by here eventually either way.”

So, I told her. All of it. Every stupid little thing I had done, said or felt in the time since I’d met Embers. The entire time, Moira sat there and listened with quiet interest. She’d smile when moments of my story were good and reach out to squeeze my hand when they weren’t.

By the time I had finished, her expression had taken on a more contemplative state and I assumed she was busy trying to conjure up a solution that would grant me the happily ever after she no doubt wanted for me.

              “Moira? MOIRA.”

             
“Huh?” she turned back to me looking like I had snatched her out of some extremely deep thoughts.

             
“It’s fine. I don’t know how yet, but it’s going to work out.”

             
“Oh, I know that. I was just trying to figure out what her daughter will call me.”

             
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “What?”

             
Moira clearly thought that it was obvious. “Embers’ daughter. Naturally, your parents will be her step-grandparents - by the way, I want to be there when you tell your mother the news, I’ll provide my body as shield in case she throws something - but no one over complicates that sort of thing. I mean, who says no to another gram and gramps?! But where will I fit in?”

             
“Moira,” I leaned toward her, “Right now I don’t even know where
I
fit in. Can I just settle that first before I attack the problem of finding a suitable role and title for my mother’s secret lesbian life partner in regard to my would – be girlfriend’s daughter?”

             
She fell back into her seat grinning. “Yeah, I suppose that’s fair.”

             
I couldn’t help but laugh.

             
Even though she tried to hide it, I caught the gleam in her eye as she watched me and I knew she had set me up on purpose. Someday I’d have to find a suitable title for her in regard to myself as well. She’d been so much more to me than just ‘Moira’.

             
I was fuming as I stormed up Austin’s walkway and went to bang on his front door. I was double fisting it, hammering against the wood until my hands began to hurt. At last it opened. It was Fake Tits Magoo.

             
“What the hell are you doing here?” Austin had told me her real name, but I was drawing a blank.

             
“I live here.” She opened the door further, revealing a protruding belly as she did so.

             
“Are you fucking kidding me? Austin! AUSTIN! Where is that mother fucker?”

             
If Magoo hadn’t been knocked up, I would have rammed my way straight through her.

             
“He’s in the shower,” she said snidely.

             
Angelique.
That was her fucking name. Yeah, she looked like an Angelique. Fucking arrogant bitch. Ha. If she was with Austin now I didn’t know what she thought she was trying to act all high and mighty for.

             
“Well, tell him to hurry the fuck up, or I’m coming in to drag him out myself.”

             
She rubbed her bulging belly as if that was supposed to mean something to me and asked, “And who should I tell him is here to see him so urgently?”

             
Like she didn’t fucking know. “Embers. His ex-wife. Mother of his first child.”

             
Angelique crinkled her nose at me haughtily, but then turned back, presumably to find Austin.

             
He was standing in front of me on his front step less than two minutes later. His hair was dripping wet and his T-shirt was sticking to his back from not having time to dry off properly. This time around, Angelique stayed out of sight.

             
“What is your fucking problem, Embers?”

             
I held up the large manila envelope for him to see. “This!”

             
“Am I supposed to know what that is?” He was using that tone. The one where he wanted me to think I was an idiot making a fool of myself.

             
“Yeah, you are. Some asshole process server just dropped these on me this morning. The only time they ever show up at my fucking door is when you sent them there. Tell me, Austin. How exactly do these thoughts form in your head, huh? You haven’t seen or talked to your daughter in two months, but now you want to take me back to court? Why? Did I do something you deem unfit? Do you want more custody? What is it? Never mind. I don’t care. What I do want to know is how the hell you feel like you have any right at all to make any decision regarding your daughter’s well-being when you clearly don’t give a shit about her.”

             
“Would you calm the fuck down? You’re acting like a crazy person. As usual.”

             
I’d show him crazy. I was two insults short of scratching his eyes out with my car keys.

             
“I’ll calm down, just as soon as you give me a reason to.”

             
He placed his hands on his hips, “Open your envelope.”

             
“Don’t tell me what to do.” My inner two year old was making an appearance. I let her do her thing, but slid my finger under the flap and ripped the paper open anyway.  Furiously, my eyes scanned the documents. Then I read everything a second time, but slower.

             
“You’re giving me full legal custody.” Hearing myself say the words out loud didn’t make them sound any more real.

             
“I ain’t giving you shit. Just signing the papers your boyfriend’s lawyer sent over to me.”

             
I was reading the agreement a third time now. “Brady did this?”

             
“If that’s what you’re calling Jack Cole, then yeah. Told me he was going to when he came by here later that same day I came to see you. What? He didn’t tell you?”

             
Before I could stop myself, I flew up at him, shoving into his chest with both hands. “No he didn’t tell me! You made me break up with him, remember? I haven’t seen him since!”

             
Austin grabbed both of my wrists, and not so gently, removed them from his torso.

             
“No shit?!” He laughed.

             
“It’s not funny. He was good to me, Austin. He was good to Jessa. We were actually happy and you just couldn’t stand that, could you?”

             
He tore the papers from my hand and waved them back at me. “What, you think he’s your knight in shining armor just because he can throw some money around and pay his lawyers to get you what you want? Don’t read too much into it. He’s not about to swoop in and adopt Jessa so you guys can run off and have the happy little family you’re picturing in that naïve head of yours. If he had any intentions of doing that, he would have let me sign over my rights altogether like I wanted to.”

             
I was dumbfounded. “You wanted to give her up?”

             
“Might as well.”

             
“Austin, she’s your daughter. How could you even consider doing that?”

             
He shrugged and glanced back at the door behind him. “Because I already made another one just like her. Angelique’s due in four months.”

             
I was speechless. Everything I had thought I knew on my drive over here was so far off I couldn’t even begin to find my way through the twister of thoughts slashing through my mind now. All I could do was stare at Austin, my jaws clenched and my hands balled up in fists. Finally, I took back my papers and then just left. No goodbye, no nothing. He wasn’t worth it and I had nothing left to give him anyway.

             
For three years I had done everything I knew how to do in order to create an environment in which Jessa believed she had a loving father. I had absolved him of all responsibilities and given him only ‘fun dad’ duties. Had hidden the moments he was at his ugliest from her so that her image of him would not be tainted. People like Grilla and Margo had never understood why I had done any of it. Why I had encouraged frequent and flexible visitations – well, when things were running smoothly anyway – when Austin had done so much to prove he was an unfit father.