December 23rd, 1996
CLAUDIA
As soon as Mike was legally confirmed as Elliott’s father, the PR machine was set to maximum speed.
Dean contacted a woman named Enid Stall—who handled publicity for Full Moon artists.
Enid was a fixer. She not only made problems go away, she also knew how to express-create diamonds out of coal.
Enid quickly invaded all aspects of Claudia’s life.
She needs to come out of the gate with a new song about Mike.
Do you have a song about Mike? You must. You were with him forever and he offed himself.
That’s got to make for great material. What?
It’s true. Moving on, how fast can you lose the baby weight?
At least twenty pounds needs to come off by mid-March.
I can hold off the People photo shoot until then, but it’ll be tight to get it out before the concert.
Get her a trainer, a chef, and a nanny. Can you stop breastfeeding by then? Those huge boobs won’t work on a cover.
Enid was evil. But she got results. And Claudia, needing results, went along with all of it.
A young nanny named Amélie was imported from France.
(Actually, she was imported from Beverly Hills due to a torrid affair with the father of the children she was caring for.
But they’d imported her from France in the first place, so it still counted.) Enid said the French angle was very important because rich people love to raise their children to be multilingual and French was a rich-person language.
A jogging stroller was purchased so Claudia could take up running.
A former Navy SEAL named Tyrone was hired as her trainer.
Tyrone worked with the Oakland Raiders during the off season, and Claudia was filled with dread when she pulled up at the gym for their first session.
But it turned out he was nothing like she thought he’d be.
He didn’t scream in her face or call her a maggot.
Instead, he was quiet and thoughtful and intense.
He was willing to meet her where she was at, and, having been raised by a single mother, had a soft spot for new moms who were trying to take on the world.
They’d work together Monday through Friday, and no, she shouldn’t stop breastfeeding unless she and the baby were both good with that.
Or just her. They were her breasts, after all.
Amélie moved in with them, and Claudia threw herself into getting in shape and preparing for a new chapter of her career.
Living with a stranger felt like her waitressing days.
Her roommate had been a stranger too when they moved in together.
But this was different because Claudia was not only the boss, but she’d have to trust Amélie with her baby.
As far as setting up expectations went, Claudia failed from the start.
The bungalow, which had been a mess when Amélie moved in, remained that way two months later.
And somehow, Claudia found herself cooking for the nanny and running to the store to buy things she missed from home, like insanely expensive cheese and leeks.
For reasons Claudia couldn’t understand, the girl ate leeks on a daily basis.
But Elliott took to Amélie almost immediately, and she to him.
She was always listening for him. She got up early to care for him and happily took him off to do his evening bath on nights when Claudia was too tired.
All in all, she was grateful to have her there.
Claudia had written a song about Mike a few weeks after he died.
It was called ‘Already Gone,’ and she couldn’t get through it without breaking down, which meant she’d have to sing it over and over until she could.
It needed to be fleshed out some too, and Dean enlisted the help of acclaimed producer Jay Knox to record it.
They’d start at the beginning of January, so, along with giving Elliott the best first Christmas she could, Claudia needed to be ready to work in two weeks’ time.
It was early evening, and Claudia was barely through the front door, her arms loaded with shopping bags, when Amélie told her the big news.
“That Enid woman called. She talked for a very long time about some documentary,” she said, not bothering to get up from the couch.
“I wrote a note for you and put it on the table. It sounds like a very big deal.”
“Oh, all right,” Claudia answered, dropping the bags in the front entry and tugging off her jacket. She was tired and thirsty and not in the mood for anything Enid-related. Walking into the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, “How was the evening?”
“Perfect. Baby Elliott went straight to sleep in his crib.” Amélie followed her and took down two glasses from the cupboard while Claudia grabbed a bottle of Perrier from the fridge.
“I don’t know why he fusses when I try to put him down,” Claudia said.
“It is because you have milk and I don’t, so he knows fussing will get him nowhere,” she answered in her perfect Parisian accent.
Claudia poured each of them some water, then took a few gulps before picking up the note off the table.
Enid called. A crew from VH1 will be at your recording sessions next month. They are making a new show called Behind the Music and will feature The Vows. Try to be as thin as possible.
Claudia’s gut felt heavy and she let her shoulders drop. “Shit,” she muttered.
“She is an awful person, non?”
“Yes.”
“I told her I did not want to write that down—about you being fat—but she insist.” Amélie shook her head. “In France, we don’t shame new mothers. Their bodies are to be celebrated.”
“Maybe I should move there.”
Amélie chuckled, then said, “But this news is exciting, non? It sounds like a very big deal. They are making shows about Fleetwood Mac and Billy Joel.” She tilted her head, looking impressed as she added, “Even Meatloaf.”
Claudia tucked her lips between her teeth to stop herself from laughing at her pronunciation of Meatloaf (which sounded more like Meatluff). “Is Meatloaf big in France?”
“Not to eat, of course. That is disgusting. But the singer is played in nightclubs. It is fun to dance to his songs.”
“Agreed about both things,” she answered, happy to have a companion to talk to who could answer her back, even if she was paid to be there.
She had another sip of her water, then stared at the note again.
Her stomach churned at the thought of a crew filming her recording session.
She would not only be alone for the first time ever, she’d also be struggling to hold it together.
“I’m going to look like a blubbering idiot. ”
“No, you will be fine. Besides, blubbering makes good TV. People love that shit.”