Chapter Three #3
“Come, Doctor, don’t be shy,” Danielle called, and Seth took the other seat next to the aged actress.
I sat next to him, leaving Howard and Victoria their choice of three seats at the other end of the table, which remained vacant while they hovered over their preparations.
Howard called us up in twos to make our choice from the chicken and beef that were on the grill, and then we filled up our plates, family style, with the potatoes and a couple of healthy salad choices.
I was surprised when Ginette took the last seat at the table.
Victoria, who had sat next to me, leaned close to my ear and said, “Generally all the staff eat with us. It’s something Danielle had started a few years ago, probably so she wasn’t always eating alone.”
“Candace is at a gig,” Howard explained. “And Marco said to save him a plate. He’s at a pivotal scene in his story.”
“He’s always at a pivotal scene,” Ginette said. “Not sure exactly how many times you can pivot in one play, but…”
The rest of us laughed, but soon Danielle, egged on by Maureen’s questions about Old Hollywood, began regaling us with stories of celebrities that carried all the way through dinner. The last one involved an embarrassing situation between Tony Randall and Abe Vigoda that took place in the library.
“Back then,” Danielle said, “we all thought Abe was terribly old, but alas. Time catches up, doesn’t it?”
“We saw the library on the way to dinner,” I said. “I hope to check it out during my stay.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it, Jessica,” Danielle said in her perfect transatlantic diction. “Besides the actors, we had plenty of well-known authors visit, and we acquired quite a few signed first editions.” She cleared her throat. “The room could stand a new coat of paint, though.”
Howard’s face colored. “I know, Danielle. That’s all my fault,” he said.
“I had some time after my last job ended, and I decided to surprise everybody and paint it myself. I was going for a neutral millennial gray, something timeless and classic, maybe a tad moody, but on the wall it turned out more Addams Family.” He turned to the actress. “It’s on the agenda.”
She held up a hand. “It’s Victoria’s house now. Far be it from me to interfere.” But I suspected interference was never that far away.
By the time our bellies were full, the sun was going down, and Howard attached a reel to the old projector and used the light from his cell-phone camera to help him load the film.
The rest of us carried our chairs to form an uneven row in front of the screen.
The film, a noir—but recent enough to be filmed in color—was entertaining, although a tad predictable.
I noticed Danielle mouthing her dialogue and making the same facial expressions—usually wide-eyed terror—as her character, a young wife who hires an old-style, tough-as-nails gumshoe to find her missing son.
Fortunately, she didn’t let out a blood-curdling scream when her character did.
When Victoria got up during a reel change, I decided to stretch my legs and followed her into the kitchen.
“You’re going to miss the movie, Aunt Jess,” Victoria said, rummaging through cupboards to pull out a tray and a box of graham crackers. “Don’t you want to see who done it?”
I pulled out a stool and took a seat at the counter. “Oh, that’s easy. It was the veterinarian.”
She spun to face me. “You’ve seen it before?”
“Oh, no. It’s easy enough to figure out when…well, call it tricks of the trade.”
She forced a smile, then turned again to rummage through the back of the pantry and pulled out a package of chocolate bars and a bag of marshmallows.
“Victoria, what’s wrong?”
She whirled to face me again. “Who said anything was wrong?” She maintained her smile, but quickly broke eye contact before the facade collapsed. She leaned heavily against the counter. “You’re going to have to teach me a few of those tricks of the trade.”
I slid off my stool, found the teakettle sitting on the back of the range, filled it, and lit the burner. By the time I returned, Victoria had sat on a stool on the opposite side of the island, and I just waited, letting the silence prompt her to begin.
“I told myself I wasn’t going to let my silly feelings interfere with your vacation,” she said. “I can handle this. I’m not a child anymore.”
“Of course you’re not a child, and I also know you’re capable of handling your own affairs, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t press.
But one secret I’ve learned with a few more years’ experience is that we continue to have such feelings all our lives.
We might learn to camouflage them better, and we might try to write them off as silly sometimes, but nearly always, having someone around with a sympathetic ear helps when something’s wrong.
” I lifted her chin and peered into her eyes. “And something’s definitely wrong.”
She flung her arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder, and I just held her close and rubbed her back. Eventually, she quieted down, pulled a paper towel from a nearby dispenser, and dabbed at her eyes.
When the teakettle whistled, I’ll admit I took the coward’s way out and rescued it. By the time I was done making two cups of tea, Howard was in the kitchen.
He gave her a tight squeeze. “There’s about ten minutes until the closing credits.” He grabbed the tray. “This all ready?”
“No, the, uh, sticks for the marshmallows.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out plastic-handled telescoping metal “sticks” and added them to the tray. “I better get back out there.” He squinted at Victoria. “You all right, hon?”
“Fine,” she said, then took a sip of the tea I’d handed her. She sent me a sheepish smile. “We’d better join the others.”
I linked my arm with hers as we followed Howard back outside. “You and I will talk again.”