“Not me.”
“Oh, c’mon.” Paul looked me in the eye. “If someone offered you the job of a lifetime, you’d take it. Right?”
“Even if it was across the country?” Kat shook her head. “You’d better believe she wouldn’t. Athena is staying put.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m such a family girl. No running here. I like to stay put. Besides, I’m not so sure it is the job of a lifetime. I feel like I’ve already got that.”
“I’d go in a heartbeat.” Paul nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Wouldn’t even stop to wave goodbye.”
“Thanks a lot.”
He grinned. “Nah. I’d wave goodbye. Sayonara. C’est la vie. So long, former life . . . hello, big, new world.”
His words went in one ear and out the other. Frankly, I couldn’t imagine Stephen writing comedy for SNL. No way. And Brooke . . .
For whatever reason, my heart broke as I thought of her having to go through yet another life shift. How would she take the news of moving to New York? Where would she go to school? How would she adjust to a new school? Who would befriend her?
My heart grew heavy just thinking about it. Or maybe it grew heavy at the idea of Stephen leaving me. How had this happened? I’d gone from being mad at him for taking credit for the episode to realizing just how much I loved and needed him.
I thought of his parting words to me a couple of days ago: “You know what this means, don’t you? Our relationship is at Step 11 in the plotline.”
Ugh.
I picked up this week’s script and twisted it in my hands, wishing I could toss it across the room. “I hate that stupid plotline,” I mumbled.
Paul gave me a funny look as he took a seat. “What do you mean?”
“It just makes me so mad. Why does everything have to be so complicated?”
“Conflict, my dear.” He wiggled his brows. “Good stories are built on conflict. Remember?”
Yeah, I remembered. Stories were built on conflict. And mine had plenty of it. But that certainly didn’t mean I had to like it. In fact, the more of it I experienced, the more I wanted to crawl under my Strawberry Shortcake sheets and hide away. Maybe I’d just do that and forget this whole thing.
On Friday evening I arrived home to a chaotic scene. Mama was on the phone with someone and appeared to be crying. I could barely make out what she was saying through her tears, but I knew in my gut something terrible had happened.
I waited a few anxious seconds, then finally interrupted her call. “What is it?”
“Oh, Athena.” She passed the phone off to me, whispering, “Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy.”
At the sound of those familiar words, my heart did a back flip. Someone must really be in trouble.
I flinched when I heard Stephen’s voice on the other end of the line. “Athena? Is that you?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
“It’s about Brooke.”
“Brooke?” My mind flooded with possibilities. Had she been in an accident? “What about her?”
“I can’t find her.”
“What do you mean? She’s missing?”
“Yes. Less than an hour after we got back in town. She took off with the dog after we had a—well, a fight.”
“Are you saying she ran away from home?” I paused and shrugged off my purse. “What did you fight about?”
He hesitated for a moment. When he spoke, I could hear the strain in his voice. “I wanted to tell you this another way, but I . . . I’ve had a job offer in New York.”
“Right. The SNL thing.”
“You knew about that?”
“It’s all over the studio,” I told him. “And trust me, I have a lot I could say about it, but I won’t. Is that why she ran off?”
“Yes.” Stephen groaned. “She went with me to New York, and I thought she had a great time. I took her shopping. We went to FAO Schwarz, rode the subway . . . everything.”
“Wow. You’ve been busy over the past two days.” And he’d kept me in the dark. Hadn’t shared a word of it. That bothered me more than I could say, especially now. I’d love to give him a piece of my mind, tell him what I thought about the fact that he’d disappeared without talking to me, but this wasn’t the time.
His words interrupted my thoughts. “I’ve been so busy. It’s almost like a tornado touched down and picked me up. I was caught up in it for days and couldn’t get back to the place where I started.”
Should I start humming “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”?
“I was going to tell you all of this, but it happened so fast. And when I left, things were so weird between us. I wasn’t sure you would want to know. Maybe I thought you’d be glad I was leaving.”
My heart lurched at that proclamation. How could he say that? “Stephen, we can talk about all of that later.”
“I know.” He paused. “I . . . can’t go,” he said.
“You can’t?”
“No. But she thinks we’re moving, I guess. So she took off. And now I don’t know where she is.”
I pressed away the sting of tears as I imagined what this must be doing to him. “You tried Mary and Trina’s place?”
“Of course. Called them first thing. No one has heard from her.”
“You called Mama next?”
I turned to discover my mother still standing behind me. She mouthed the words, “I haven’t seen her.”
“Yes, your mother said she didn’t come by the shop today, so I’m clueless. Will you . . . will you go with me to look for her? I can come by your place and get you. Maybe she’s gone to that park by your house. The one with the high slide. She went there once before when she was upset.”
“She did?”
“Yes. Ages ago. These past few weeks, she’s been happier than I’ve ever seen her. I really thought things were turning around.” He groaned. “I feel like we’ve taken ten steps backward now. That’s the last thing I want to do to my little girl. I want her to have the stability I never . . .” His voice broke and I could hear him crying. “That I never had.”
Suddenly every bit of angst I’d been carrying washed away like the evening tide. “Come and get me. I’ll be waiting. She’s out there, Stephen, and we’ll find her.”
“I’m leaving right now.”
When I ended the call, my mother opened her arms to hug me. As I fell into her embrace, the tears came—tears for Brooke, and tears for myself too. This whole situation with Stephen had taken its toll on me.
As my mother held me, praying in that soft, soothing voice, I suddenly knew everything would be okay.
“I’m going to change into my jeans,” I said after getting my emotions under control. “And wash my face. He’ll be here soon.”
I sprinted up the stairs and headed straight for my bedroom. When I got there, I found the door slightly ajar. I walked into the room, startled to find a big lump in the middle of the bed. It took me a minute, but when I saw movement under the comforter, I realized I had a stowaway hiding under my Strawberry Shortcake bedspread. Make that two. A wagging tail stuck out from under the corner of the sheets.
I’d never sensed relief like I did in that moment. Now I knew what the father of the prodigal son had felt like.
“Brooke?” I pulled the covers back, my heart flooding with joy as I looked at that beautiful, tearstained face. “You scared us to death. Your dad is looking everywhere for you.”
She shook her head, the tears now pouring. “Don’t tell him I’m here. Please! I don’t want to talk to him.” She pulled the covers over her head once again, and her sobs rang out, breaking my heart.
I gently eased the covers back and ran my hand along her back. “Honey, I know you’re upset, but it’s going to be okay. I promise.”
At this point, Zeus got in on the act, using his nose to push back the covers. Then he began to lick the tears from her cheeks. At first she pushed him away, but after a few seconds, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him minister t
o her in the way that only a dog can do.
Brooke eventually crawled out from under the sheets and pulled her knees up to her chest. Zeus settled at her side. “We’re moving . . . again,” she whispered. “And I don’t want to.”
I sat down on the bed next to her and drew her close, planting a kiss in her hair. “I don’t think your daddy’s going to move after all.”
“He isn’t?” She looked at me, disbelief registering on her face. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. I just talked to him. But honey, even if he had decided to move, it would be so that you could have a better life.”
“I already have the best life in the world,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Right here. With you.”
Okay, if that didn’t break my heart, nothing would. And I couldn’t help but agree with her. The life she’d lived over the past couple months had been pretty ideal. A tiny apartment in New York could never compare. Here in L.A. she had friends, family . . . Family.
We really were her family now, weren’t we? Why else would she have come here? I gave her a warm hug and my own tears fell. We sat in silence for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, Zeus fighting to get between us so he could get his share of affection too.
Everything about holding Brooke felt completely natural and right. She was the closest thing to my own child, and I would give my life to protect her. To make her happy.
Right after one more round of scolding.
“Promise me you won’t ever scare us like that again.”
“I promise.” She looked up at me, her beautiful brown eyes brimming over. “I didn’t want to scare you. But I didn’t know what else to do.”
“How did you get here?” I asked.
Her gaze shifted downward. “Uncle Milo.”
“Uncle Milo?” I sat up. “Milo knows you’re here and didn’t tell us? How could he do that?”
“He didn’t know I was running away or anything,” she said. “I just called him and acted like you had invited me over. He came and picked us up.” She smiled through her tears. “He didn’t want to let Zeus in the car, but I convinced him.”
I tousled her hair. “You’re a mess. You know that?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “But you love me anyway, right?”
“Of course. And I know your daddy does too.”
Daddy!
As soon as I spoke the word, I realized I needed to tell Stephen. I picked up the cell phone to call him at the very moment our doorbell rang. My mother’s voice sounded from downstairs. “Athena! Stephen’s here.”
I put my finger to my lips and motioned for Brooke to follow me to the hallway at the top of the stairs. Of course, Zeus tagged along behind her, tail moving in a frenzy. Brooke stepped beside me and looked down at her father, choking back a sob. The moment Stephen saw her, he gasped and ran—literally ran—up the stairs.
This, of course, made Zeus a little crazy. He went into full-out attack mode, thinking someone had come to harm his owner. I tugged at the mongrel’s collar and shushed him while father and daughter melted into an embrace.
I backed up, knowing they needed their privacy. Still, a part of me wanted to be in on the action.
Stephen held Brooke close, lifting her feet off the floor. “Brooke, you scared me to death. Don’t ever do that to me again. You hear me?” Tears streamed down his face. He kissed her multiple times on her hair and cheeks, then told her how much he loved her. She responded with a few “I’m sorry’s” and an “I love you, Daddy.”
Wow. I felt like I’d just witnessed a reenactment of the prodigal son story, played out between father and child.
My father’s solution to all of this emotion, of course, was to feed everyone. We gathered in the kitchen, and he placed a mountain of food before us. We ate until our stomachs ached, and talked about everything under the sun . . . except what had just happened. From across the table, I watched as Stephen interacted with Brooke. She was all smiles again, and all the more when he told her they would be staying in Los Angeles. In fact, everyone smiled at that news.
I wanted to ask him a thousand questions but didn’t know when—or if—we’d find the time. My parents eventually retreated to the living room after dinner to watch a movie, and Brooke joined them. Stephen motioned for me to follow him out to the back porch. I carried my cup of coffee out into the darkness.
“Hang on a second and let me turn on a light,” I said.
“No.” I could hear the emotion in his voice. “Leave it. I like it like this.”
“You want to talk in the dark?” I fumbled around until I found the small glass patio table and set my cup on it. “Why?”
He cleared his throat. “Might be . . . easier. You know?”
“Easier to talk without seeing me?”
“Yeah.” He groaned. “But don’t take that the way it probably sounds.” He paused for so long I got a little nervous. When he did speak, his words were shaky. “Athena, the last few days have been horrible. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Every time I thought about moving to New York, I felt sick inside. And obviously the idea tore up Brooke too. I never expected this kind of reaction from her.”
Should I tell him that the idea of losing both of them made me feel sick inside as well?
“I guess she didn’t really think I’d be interested in the job. Maybe she just thought it was a two-day vacation to the Big Apple. I don’t know.” He released a lingering sigh, one that got me plenty nervous.
“Are you?” I asked. “Interested in the job, I mean.”
“The whole thing was flattering. Very flattering. But I can’t do it—for Brooke’s sake, and for my own. I can’t possibly leave when . . .” His voice broke, and for a moment his words were left hanging. “It was the offer of a lifetime,” he whispered at last. “I know that. But I already had the woman of a lifetime waiting for me right here. What they offered me in New York didn’t even come close to what I already had.”
I had to admit, it did sound pretty good hearing those words in the dark. Though I had to wonder about the expression on his face. Was it pain? Angst? Remorse? Joyous bliss? Who knew? Then again, maybe guessing was more fun.
“Are you going to say anything?” he asked.
“Oh.” I startled back to attention. “I was just thinking.”
“About what? What a schmuck I am for actually getting on that plane? Or about how I should fire my agent for setting up that article in the paper?”
“He set it up on purpose?” I asked.
“I think so. I never got a straight answer out of him. Every time I asked the question, he danced around it. I know he thought it was some sort of savvy career move, but he caused a lot of people a lot of pain.”
“Stephen . . .” I reached for his hand, hitting the table instead. “Can you come here?”
I felt his presence, strong and comfortable, in front of me. I somehow managed to slip my arms around his waist, and he pulled me close. Our lips met—well, almost met—and we shared a kiss that made everything in the world right again. Funny how one passionate kiss could speak a thousand words. We managed two “I’m sorry’s,” one “I adore you,” and even a couple of “I think I’m falling in love’s” without ever speaking a word.
In that moment, as heaven and earth collided, I found all of my pain from the past few days slipping away. Suddenly I didn’t even care if the furniture in the office stayed in its current topsy-turvy state. We could hang it from the ceiling for all I cared.
As the kiss intensified, I found myself distracted, wondering once again how I’d write a scene like this into a TV script. Would I mention the swell of emotions? The racing heart? The near swooning? Nah, swooning was highly overrated. Twenty-first-century women didn’t swoon. Not when they were kissing, anyway.
Or did they?
For a second there, I thought my knees were going to buckle. Perfect! Unfortunately, I never lost my balance. Well, forget the buckling knees. I’d just have to come up wit
h something else.
Or pay attention to what was really happening instead of daydreaming about a dumb scene. Especially when the kiss offered such forgiveness, such hope for new beginnings.
When the kiss ended, I rested my head against his and whispered the words, “Welcome home.”
“This is home,” he said. “Not the city. Not even this house. But being with you . . . is home. It’s where I belong. And it’s clearly where Brooke belongs.” He began to get choked up again. “She . . . she knew where to come. She wanted you.”
“Honestly, she wanted you,” I said. “But I think she was scared that you would . . .” I shrugged.
“Disappoint her?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I really do want the best for her,” he said. “If you had any idea how much I love her . . .” His voice cracked. “I . . . I would die for her.”
“I know you would. And I know you want the best possible life for her. The good news is you’ve found it. It’s been here all along.”
He kissed me again, this time surprising me with the emotion behind it. Oh, sweet bliss. This was a spine-tingling, knee-buckling, swoon-worthy kiss if I’d ever experienced one.
As it ended, I finally decided to turn on the porch light. Then we sat on the porch swing and rocked back and forth like an old married couple. I half expected him to say something about the weather. Instead, Stephen kissed my hair and whispered, “Man, I’ve missed you.”
“Same here.”
“Did your dad tell you I came by the shop the day before I left to talk to him?”
“No. You did?”
“Yes, I wanted to ask him a question.”
“O-oh?”
“It was related to the show. Since we’re looking at adding tension to Jack and Angie’s relationship, I wanted to know what would be the worst kind of attack on a couple working together. His answer was problems from within.”
“Problems from within? Like, maybe someone having an affair or something?”