Charming Grace
Boone turned and looked at me with eyes that could make butter melt. We hurriedly guided the teenagers outside. Leo and Mika clasped hands. Boone frowned at them. “Leo, what the hell were you doing in there?”
“Mika?” I echoed.
They let go of each other’s hands. They shifted and stared at the sky as if searching for a pale, day moon against the blue.
“Leo,” Boone growled.
Leo put a hand to his heart. “I can’t imagine what you’re hinting at. “Mika and I found each other on the message boards at Dad’s website. Nothing sinister.”
Mika tugged him close and rose on tiptoe. He was almost as tall as Boone—a good six-three—and she was a foot shorter. He bent his head gallantly. She launched into some fluid, extravagant language. He listened, sighed, then spoke it back.
Boone frowned at me. “I speak French, Spanish, a little Farsi I picked up talking to the Muslims, and some Cantonese I learned from a Chinese guy who was doing time. But I don’t recognize this.”
“It’s elfish.”
“Elfish? I don’t think we had any elves at Angola. At least not in the general population.”
“Tolkien. Fantasy. Mika loves elves, dwarves, science fiction, computer games—”
“How about Star Trek?” Boone asked darkly, eyeing Mika. “You like Star Trek? I’m bettin’ your favorite character is Lt. Uhura.”
Mika and Leo stopped in mid-elf.
I looked from her guilty face to Leo’s oh-so-fake-innocent expression. A lot of unanswered questions—about spies—suddenly answered themselves. I crossed my arms over my chest and peered at Leo. “Gandalf?”
He gulped. He was so busted. I could see it.
“Gandalf,” I confirmed.
“Leo!” Mika warned. “You swore an oath of silence!”
Leo took her hands. “No oath can make me let you take the blame.”
“Gandalf,” I repeated. “Unless you know how to disappear into Middle Earth, you better start talking.”
He cracked. “I told Mika to meet me here. It was my idea to give the script to her. And yes, I’m your Gandalf, Mrs. Vance. And Mika is Boone’s source. Mika and your grandmother. The three of us are working together on a tri-lateral resolution of the Senterra-Vance conflict.”
Mika moaned. “So much for stealth. G. Helen will revoke our membership in her Green Gold Society.”
“What is this?” I said. The fellowship of the script?”
Mika clasped her hands in a begging gesture. “Aunt Grace, please don’t think G. Helen and I betrayed your trust. She’s worried about you. She says the only way you can let go of the past is to stop trying to control the present.”
“Was she drinking a martini when she came up with that philosophy?”
“We just want you to . . . well, to get a life, Aunt Grace.” She paused, studying my face, which must have scared her. “Bless your heart.”
Boone crooked a finger at Leo. “Talk, Mr. Wizard.”
He gulped. “Mika came here because I asked her to. I don’t agree with Dad’s decision to make this movie but you know Dad listens to me as if I’m a fly he might swat if I bug him too much. So I decided to do what I could for truth, justice, and the Gandalfian way. Mika and I . . . we’re friends. Internet friends. We decided to meet in person. My Dad’s office here seemed like the perfect private place. The guard walked in while we were . . . we were, uhmmm—”
“Hugging,” Mika offered quickly.
“Hugging, yes.”
Boone took that moment to level his benignly aggravated finger at Mika. “So you’re definitely Lt. Uhura?”
“Yes, Mr. Spock.” Her voice was very small.
Boone looked at me. “Helluva dilemma.”
I sagged. “To put it mildly.”
My niece. Stone’s son. And my own grandmother. Working together, all this time to steer me—and Boone—away from trouble.
And toward each other.
HERO
DIRECTOR’S NOTES AND SCRIPT
I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE! LEAVE MY SCRIPT ALONE! THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING! I KNOW BILL GATES PERSONALLY AND I WILL GET HIS COMPUTER GOONS TO LAUNCH A BIG CAN OF COMPUTER WHUP ASS ON YOUR ASS!
SCENE: 1989. ATLANTA. An army recruiting office in a suburban strip mall. Harp Vance, 21, stands on the sidewalk looking grimly at the recruiting poster in the window. He squares his shoulders and heads toward the office’s door. As he reaches for the handle Grace, 19, roars into the parking lot in her sports car. She screeches to a halt, one front tire on the sidewalk, and leaps out. Curlers dangle from her disheveled hair. She’s flown all the way home from Atlantic City, having walked out on a dress rehearsal for the Miss America pageant. She’s dressed in a formal evening gown and tennis shoes with the laces untied. She rushes to Harp angrily.
GRACE
How could you? (tearfully) G. Helen confessed what you’re up to. You’re dropping out of college, you’re going to join the army and write me a good-bye letter from boot camp? How could you do that to me?
HARP
I shoulda known better than to tell G. Helen I was leavin’! You got on a plane and flew home to stop me? Are you crazy? You’re in the middle of rehearsals for Miss Damn America! You get back up there to New Jersey! Go. Go on back. You’re goin’ to be Miss America. You’ve got to be. It’s what you’ve worked for since you were a kid. What your dad and Candace want for you. What you want.
GRACE
So you’ll just step aside? You’ll just get out of my life? I thought we agreed that if I win, you’ll keep working on your criminal justice degree and wait for me.
HARP
I just let you think that because it’s what you liked to think. But we both know the truth—if you win, you’ll be a star. After you’re done being miss America for a year you’ll get offers—TV offers, modeling, and you’ll move somewhere—New York or California—and I won’t go, Grace, I just can’t. I belong in the mountains. It’s the only place I feel at home. I don’t belong nowhere out yonder in the outside world. But you do.
GRACE
You think you’re going to help me in my career by joining the army and disappearing?
HARP
I think with me gone you’ll be what you’re supposed to be. I’ve seen what you’ve gone through. I’ve watched. The starvin’ yourself to stay skinny, the dance lessons you hated, the voice lessons, the goddamned plastic surgery. (he jabs a hand at her ears.) I LIKED your ears. I didn’t mind if they stuck out a little. But I understood how much you wanted to be a beauty queen.
GRACE
Want to … want to be a beauty . . . are you crazy? I . . . I did all this for YOU. (waves hand at herself.) Don’t you understand? I never wanted to be this Barbie doll! But I made a promise to my father after I found you in the woods. . .
Her voice trails off. Harp stares at her. Stunned Silence. As her words sink in they both realize she’s confessed a long-held secret.
HARP
(taking her by the shoulders)
What kind of promise?
GRACE
It’s not important now…
HARP
(louder)
What kind of promise?
GRACE
(sagging, defeated)
That I’d be his and Candace’s perfect little beauty queen contestant if he’d let you be part of our family.
HARP
Grace. Grace. No.
GRACE
G. Helen had no intention of turning you out, regardless. I saw my promise as extra insurance to keep my father happy. I owed him. He never got over my mother’s death. And neither did I. I wanted to make him happy. And I wanted to keep you.
HARP
You don’t want to be Miss America?
GRACE
(crying and shaking her head)
I hate beauty pageants. I always have. I hate starving for swimsuit competitions and greasing my gums to make my lips smile easier and I hate giving politically correct answers to politically c
orrect questions about politically correct subjects and I hate tap-dancing and I hate tiaras! I love YOU.
HARP
(tearfully)
I’m never goin’ to be somebody important. Never. If I stick with college I’ll get a job with the GBI some day. That’s what I want to do, that’s my dream—I’m a tracker, Grace, I know how people think when they’re on the run, so I’d be good at catching bad guys—but it’s not fancy work. It’s not big money—
GRACE
I don’t care. I’ll get my degree in journalism. You’ll catch the bad guys—and I’ll report how you did it. Marry me.
Breathless silence. He stares at her, incredulous.
HARP
You know you’re the only reason I’m alive and you’re all that keeps me alive. . .you know I’ve loved you since that day with the ceramic Santa Claus and I’ll love you until I die and after I die—
She throws herself at him and they kiss passionately.
GRACE
You’re so morbid. Don’t talk about dying all the time. I’ll marry you. We’ll elope. Right now.
HARP
Are you sure? No Miss America?
GRACE
I’m sure. No Miss America. Mrs. Harp Vance, instead.
HARP
My ladyslipper. Nobody can stand in our way if we face the world—together!
Chapter 10
“So I told Mika, ‘Nobody can stand in our way if we face the world—together!’”
Leo delivered that line in a voice that cracked on the last couple of words, though he stood like a proud soldier in front of Stone when he said it. We were in the big den of Casa Senterra Dahlonega. The filming in soggy Alabama had left the Stone Man damp and grumpy, a first-time director with a twenty-million-dollar feature film that was already behind schedule. It didn’t help to have his only son stand in front of him and ‘fess up to being Grace’s spy.
“Don’t quote my own script to me!” Stone yelled. “That’s a stupid line! I made that line up! Harp Vance never said it in real life! It’s sap! Don’t quote it as an excuse for what you and this Mika girl did!” Stone wobbled wildly in a big leather exec chair with polished antelope horns for armrests. The chair looked like it might jump up and butt Leo if Stone told it to. I stepped up next to the kid. “Leo did the right thing.”
“Oh, Mr. Punch The Security Guard And Cost Me Two-Thousand Dollars In Dental Bills has something to say. Okay, spit it out.”
“Leo didn’t do this to hurt you. He did it to help you.”
Leo nodded. “Help you see the light of enlightened and noble—”
“I don’t want to be enlightened. If I want to be enlightened I’ll turn on a lamp!”
“Dad, I’m nineteen. We can have an adult discussion without you yelling.”
“You help Grace set me up for the National Enquirer then you help her niece try to steal my script then you ask me to treat you like a grown man? Hell, son, when I was an Army Ranger I used to eat wimpy excuse makers like you for breakfast and shit them out for lunch.”
“I’ll get you some salt and pepper, Dad—”
“Leo did the smart thing,” I said. “It could help the movie.”
Stone stopped swiveling. He gaped at me. “Do tell.”
“What better way to soften Grace up than for Leo to make friends with her and her family? Earn their trust. Get them on your side. Show everybody Harp’s kin are all for the film. Leo and me, we’ve got a plan. It’s working, too.”
“It is?” Leo whispered.
“Lines of communication have been opened. We’re makin’ nice with the ladies. They’re makin’ nice back.”
Leo caught on and nodded avidly. “Grace bandaged Boone’s knuckles and held the ice pack on them herself yesterday.”
And it was the sexiest ice massage I’ve ever had in my life, I thought, remembering the feel of her hands on mine. We’d sat in the back gardens at Bagshaw Downs while Leo and Mika made eyes at each other in a gazebo not far from us. And Grace had held my hand in hers, with the ice pack. And it had felt good down to my toes with side trips along the way.
Stone squinted at me. “Ahah. So you’re charming her like I told you to. Good work. You’re smoothing the road so she won’t try to hurt me or my movie, again.”
“Can’t promise I’ve defanged her. But she didn’t toss Leo out of her house and tell him to keep his paws off her niece, so that’s progress.”
Stone looked at his son with new respect. “Maybe I overreacted. I’m sorry. You made pals with Grace’s niece for my sake?”
“Well, I—”
“She’s a great girl and you’ll like her,” I told Stone quick, before Leo could be too honest. “She likes Leo and Leo likes her, and that’s amore.”
Stone squinted at me. “Who are you—the Cajun Dean Martin?”
“Look, all that matters is that Leo charmed Grace and Grace’s granny and Grace’s niece. He’s a one-man charm squad. And that’s good for Senterra Productions.”
Stone sank back in the antelope chair. “All right. Sorry I yelled, Leo. Look, I’m just glad you’ve finally got a girlfriend. I was getting worried.”
Leo sighed. “I’m an ordinary geek, Dad, not a gay geek.”
“All right, all right.” He rubbed his forehead. “God, what a headache. Does Martin Scorsese go through this kind of crap on his film sets? Does James Cameron? Can’t you just picture Grace Vance and her witch coven on the set of Titanic? Cameron’d be yelling to all the extras, ‘No, no, don’t jump overboard, it’s not an iceberg, it’s just Grace Vance.’ Agggh. I’m craving carbs again.” He thrust his hand reached inside a cigar box on his twenty-foot inlaid teak desk. His hand emerged with a three-inch square of Dahlonega’s Fudge Factory peanut butter fudge. I scowled at the cigar box and made a mental note to swipe his newest fudge hidey-hole before Kanda got word. She’d be packing him off to Fudge Anonymous.
An elaborate phone console beeped. Stone’s assistant spoke. “Your sister’s on line one, Mr. Senterra.”
“Thanks.”
Stone bit off a chunk of rich brown fudge then stabbed a button. Diamond’s brassy, Amazon-from-Jersey voice bawled out, “I’ll take care of this mess with Grace Vance’s niece, Big Brother. I’m on my way from L.A. right now with my shit list out and my pencil ready to take names, capice? That freak geek niece of Grace’s is gonna be nothing but buttered half-brown toast when I get through with her, don’t worry. I’ll broil her little Afro-lite booty—”
“Sis!” He spat the unchewed fudge into one hand. “Leo likes her!”
“What do you mean he likes her? She’s the enemy. He can’t like her.”
“Aunt Diamond, I’m listening,” Leo said stiffly.
Silence. I could almost hear her gulp. “Leo? Sweetie? You’re there?”
“Yes, I’m here. And I want you to know Mika DuLane is someone I respect and care about.” He leaned over the speaker phone. “I don’t want you to give her any trouble or make any more remarks about her racial heritage.”
“Leo! Honey!” Diamond had a soft spot for her nephew. Maybe because she’d been picked on by her own father as a kid. Or maybe because even a Tasmanian Devil is kindly toward its brother’s cubs. At any rate, she and Leo had always been close. He’d called Diamond Aunt Deedeeda when he was little. If anyone else had called her Aunt Deedeeda she’d have dee-deed their da. “Leo. If Mika’s your friend I think that’s just. . . cool. Great. You know I’m all for whatever makes my little Leo the Lion happy.”
“Then don’t make racist remarks.”
“I was just joking, Leo the Lionhearted, sweetie—”
“Don’t make jokes about her in general.”
“Sure, sweetie. Hey, this is your Aunt Deedeeda speaking. No problemo. Okay?”
Stone groaned. “Sis, just drop the subject. Boone says we’ll have Grace and her niece eating out of our hands soon, thanks to Leo makin’ nice with them. Boone, tell Diamond what you told me. Sis, listen. Boone, tell her.”
br /> The line went very quiet. Then, “Your Cajun oui-man is there?”
Stone frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Wee man? What the hell’s a wee man? You gotta problem with Boone? Spit it out.”
Silence. The hissing sound was steam coming out of her ears. Never be in the room when Diamond got a comeuppance from her beloved big bro. She was like a wounded wolverine, and she blamed me for it. So naturally I leaned over the phone and poked her with a stick. “Howdy do, Aunt Deedeeda.”
“Fu….you,” Diamond muttered. The line went dead.
Stone frowned. “Fuh what? Fuh who? Musta been a bad connection.”
Leo looked at him grimly. “Dad, I don’t want to hear Aunt Diamond or anyone else make remarks about Mika. And that includes you, Dad.”
Holy merde. A rare case of open-faced Leo rebellion. I nodded to myself. The kid’s growing a set, finally.
Stone stared at him impatiently, without a clue. “Relax, kid. Nobody’s dissing your girlfriend. I’ve got no beef with my kid dating a black girl. It’s not like you’re going to marry her or something.”
“Dad, I find that remark to be incredibly—”
“Napoleon,” I said, and clamped a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Stop before you get to Waterloo. Run off with Josephine and count your blessings.”
Leo shut his mouth.
Stone never even noticed. He slapped the desktop happily. “Okay. Discussion’s over. I’m enlightened. Boone, you and Leo keep luring the Vance women into my clutches. I’ll get Grace’s seal of approval for this film, yet. Okay, you two are dismissed. Beat it. I’ve got a production meeting. Go do some more luring.”