Chapter 16 Seraphina #2
“Can we go to the pool?” Madison asked, tugging on Grady’s hand. “Mommy said there was a pool.”
“It’s a very famous pool,” Esme said. “But first we need to check in.”
“But I want to swim in the famous pool now,” Madison said.
“Sweet Pea, what did we talk about before we came here?” Grady asked.
“We have to be patient and not demand things because this day isn’t about us,” Madison recited, clearly not feeling patient or generous.
Hunter caught my eye and grinned. I grinned back.
“Madison, we’ll be as quick as we can,” I said. “And then we can all go to the pool.”
“Thanks, Seraphina.” Madison bounced on her sandal-clad toes, quickly recovering her exuberance. She made a zipper gesture over her mouth.
The lobby was cool and dim after the bright afternoon sun.
Once my eyes adjusted, I looked around the lobby, immediately charmed by its old world glamor.
The ceiling soared two stories high, painted in warm reds and golds with ornate Spanish Colonial friezes running along the edges.
Arched doorways lined both sides, supported by cream-colored columns, and a mezzanine balcony with iron railings wrapped around the second floor like in a theatre box.
We crossed the lobby on the same terracotta tiles where generations of movie stars and moguls had tread.
Clusters of tufted leather furniture filled the space, including black and burgundy Chesterfield armchairs and sofas arranged around low wooden tables.
A small fountain with greenery sat at the center.
Through an archway at the far end came the glow of the bar.
I drew a breath through my nose, catching the soft, almost sweet note of polished wood and antique furniture that came from decades of wax and care. There were hints of leather and a whisper of vintage perfume, as if actresses from bygone days still roamed the room waiting for their close-up.
“Do you smell that, kids?” I asked. “That’s the smell of the golden era of film.”
“It smells like money and secrets,” Tyler said.
“And a hundred years of deals made over whiskey,” Grady said.
“Those are good lines for a song,” Hunter said.
“This is the perfect setting for a murder mystery. Or an epic romance,” I said.
The rest of our group was now entering, chattering away, Grace leading the way, a delighted smile on her face. She stopped dead in the middle of the floor, turning in a full circle. “Oh. My. God. I never want to leave.”
“That staircase is sick,” Bella said, coming to stand next to Grace.
At the far end, a staircase curved upward with an iron railing in intricate Spanish Colonial detail. Decorative tiles in earthy tones lined the risers, warm and old and unmistakably Southern California.
“There are rumors that Shirley Temple learned to tap dance on those stairs,” Robbie said.
“For real?” Grace asked. “That’s amazing.”
“It’s right here in chapter eight.” Robbie held up his book, looking pleased that someone had enjoyed one of his facts.
“Although, I must emphasize, it’s only folklore.
However, she often stayed here as a child star, so it’s plausible.
In addition, Marilyn Monroe posed for photos on the diving board.
The diving board no longer exists, but the pool does.
The bottom of the pool is a mural—painted by David Hockney in 1988. I cannot wait to see it.”
“Can we do cannonballs?” Madison asked.
“We’ll see,” Esme said. “There are a lot of adults here, and we don’t want to bother them.”
“Margot, did you hear that? We can do cannonballs!” Madison shouted.
“That is not what I just said.” Esme looked over at Grady, shaking her head, but I could tell she wasn’t truly irritated. Madison was as excited as the rest of us and was too young to keep it to herself.
Margot, holding Vance’s hand, looked up at her dad.
“Can I?” Even though she’d been with Vance and Lila for months now, she still asked permission for almost everything.
We had her real mother to thank for that.
It would take a long time for Margot to understand fully that love from Vance and Lila wasn’t transactional. It would always be there.
“Let’s wait and see what the vibe is,” Vance said. “Like Esme said, we don’t want to bother the other guests.”
“That could fall on someone’s head,” Madison said, gazing up at a massive wrought iron chandelier that hung from the center of the room.
“There are fortified beams,” Robbie said. “It’s completely safe.”
“What’s a fortified beam?” Madison asked.
“I’ll explain it to you later,” Robbie said. “It might be best if I draw it for you.”
“Can I color it?” Madison asked.
Robbie gave a long-suffering sigh. “If you wish.”
Grace took Madison’s hand. “Come on, little miss curious. Let’s go look at the fountain while the parents check us in.”
“Okay.” Madison managed to skip while still hanging on to Grace’s hand, which was impressive.
The check-in process was smooth, as the studio had arranged everything.
Tyler, Hunter and I were in a suite, with one bedroom and a fold-out couch.
I hadn’t really talked with either Tyler or Hunter about sleeping arrangements, and, now that we were here and facing only one bedroom, I wasn’t sure what to do.
I put it aside as we headed up in the elevator to the Tower’s uppermost floors.
Hunter used the key to open the door, and then held it open for Tyler and me to step inside.
“Mom, this is insane,” Tyler said, setting his small suitcase on the floor.
It must have been at least 800 square feet with a full living room.
I stood, taking in the coffered ceilings in warm ochre and cream, hardwood floors, and a deep cognac leather Chesterfield sofa facing two high-backed armchairs upholstered in bold navy and gold Spanish-patterned fabric.
Between them, a round black lacquered coffee table held a vase of fresh white flowers.
A flat screen television sat on a low console against the far wall, flanked by tall potted plants.
Tall windows let in the bright afternoon light where dust or smudges would be evident if there were any. There weren’t.
“Can you imagine cleaning this place?” I asked under my breath.
Tyler headed to the dining area that adjoined the living room, and we followed to find a dark wood table with six blue lacquered chairs beneath an oversized black drum pendant light with a gold interior.
“We could live here,” Tyler said.
The bedroom connected to the living area through signature barn doors of richly stained reclaimed wood on iron hardware.
When pulled open, they made one large gracious space.
When closed, they created privacy. The four-poster canopy bed had a dark metal frame, crisp white linens with a deep persimmon accent pillow, a velvet upholstered bench at the foot, and a leather wingback chair in the corner.
“Where do I sleep?” Tyler asked.
Where did any of us sleep?
“Wait, this is a pull out couch,” Tyler said, answering his own question. “And you two can take the bedroom.”
Tyler seemed completely oblivious to the complications this set-up brought as he excused himself to use the restroom.
“So, yeah, we didn’t really talk about sleeping arrangements,” I said, flushed.
“And now it’s awkward,” Hunter said, taking my hands. “But I can sleep on the floor. Or a chair.”
I looked up and into his eyes. “Do you want to sleep with me?”
“I think you know the answer to that question. But we’ll take this at your pace.”
“I want that too,” I said. “But Tyler’s here.”
“We can make a bed on the floor for me,” he said. “It’s not like there isn’t space.”
“Yes, okay. That’s probably best.”
“We have Nashville for just the two of us,” Hunter said. “This weekend is about you and family.”
“Thank you,” I said, standing on my tip-toes to give him a kiss.
Tyler returned, already dressed for the pool, but went to the windows. "We can see the Hollywood sign from here."
Just barely, in the gap between buildings, the white letters on the hill. Hollywood Boulevard spread out below us, the Walk of Fame stars embedded in the sidewalk catching the sun, the TCL Chinese Theatre visible from where we stood.
“This is so cool, Mom,” Tyler said. “Everyone’s going to have such a blast.”
“This is very cool,” Hunter said. “Lucky us. We get to hang out with a famous author all weekend.”
My phone buzzed with a text from the woman at the studio who had arranged everything, with instructions for later.
Apparently they were sending a makeup artist to the hotel and a stylist was bringing several dresses for me to choose from.
I’d brought my own dress but it might be fun to see what choices they might bring.
“They’re sending a makeup person and dresses,” I said to the boys, who were currently looking through the options in the wet bar.
“No way. It’s like you’re a star,” Tyler said. “I can’t wait to tell Grace.”
“Let’s go enjoy the pool,” I said. “The others are meeting us there.”
“I’m ready,” Tyler said, tugging at his swim trunks.
Hunter and I hurried off to put on our bathing suits. A few minutes later, we headed down.
The water, a gorgeous, almost otherworldly blue, snatched my breath away. Beneath it all, the painted mural lines shimmered and shifted. It was like a movie. All of it. Laughter drifted over the surface, mingling with the clink of glasses and the low hum of music.
“That does not disappoint,” Robbie said, peering into the pool.
We spread out on the loungers that lined the pool deck, the scent of sunscreen in the air.
Vance, Grady, Alex and Hunter all headed to the bar, promising to return with drinks. The ladies and I laid back against the mesh covering of the chairs and watched the kids playing in the pool.
Fortunately, it was a slow afternoon at the hotel. It almost felt as if we had the place to ourselves. Tyler, Peter and Annie claimed the far end of the pool, tossing a beach ball back and forth across the water. Margot and Madison were playing mermaids at the other end.
Grace, Mia and Bella had positioned themselves under an umbrella, oversized sunglasses perched on their faces, scanning the pool deck with studied casualness. They were so obviously looking for stars that it made me laugh.
“See anyone?” I called over to them.
“Not yet,” Grace said, keeping her voice low. “But it’s early. The real celebrities come out at sunset.”
“How do you know that?” Gillian asked. She had baby Leo tucked into his pouch against her chest.
“Everyone knows that,” Grace said.
Mia nodded sagely, adjusting her sunglasses. “Totally.”
The three of them looked like they were auditioning for a magazine spread about Hollywood ingénues.
For a second, I longed for the days when they were all Madison’s age, their noses covered in freckles, playing in the pool instead of all grown up and watching for movie stars.
The time had gone chest-achingly fast. They were also way too pretty.
We would need to keep an eye on them here in Hollywood.
Who knew what seedy characters lurked nearby?
Robbie had claimed a lounge chair in the shade, happily reading about early Hollywood, occasionally looking up to tell us something he’d learned.
“Honey, you should swim with the other kids,” Esme said.
“No, thank you,” Robbie said. “It seems important to understand the historical significance of where we are if I’m to fully take in the experience. I can swim at home.”
Esme didn’t argue, but she did shoot me a look.
“What’s the schedule for later?” Lila asked me.
“Cars pick us up at six-thirty. Red carpet is at seven. Screening at eight. After-party at ten.” I shook my head, chuckling. “Can you believe we’re here?”
The men returned with the promised drinks. After setting them on the tables next to us, all four of them jumped in the pool with the kids.
“I guess they’re in touch with their inner child,” Esme said, taking a sip of the fruity drink Grady had brought for her. She wore a pink bikini and a sunhat over her blonde hair, eyes the same color as the pool, looking not much older than our teenage kids.
“You did this, you know,” Delphine said, sitting in the chair next to me, her long, toned legs already showing signs of a tan. “You made this happen with your hard work and your talent. It’s pretty amazing when you think about it.”
“I agree,” Lila said, her eyes glistening. “We’re all so proud of you.” She wore a modest halter style swimsuit in tangerine and looked like she belonged here in the world of the stars.
“And thanks for bringing us to the party,” Esme said. “This is truly exciting.”
“The kids will never forget it,” Gillian said, patting Leo’s small form nestled against her.
“Except for my little lion here. It’ll be family lore by the time he’s old enough to hear about it.
Can I tell you how excited I am to go out tonight and wear something that doesn’t have spit-up on the shoulder?
” She and Alex had hired a nanny for the evening, recommended by Grady’s sister Mauve.
Even though they were rich, Gillian had refused a full-time nanny for Leo.
She said she’d think about it once she returned to teaching at her studio, but, for now, she didn’t want to miss a moment.
“I couldn’t do it without all of you,” I said.
“You could, but why would you want to?” Delphine asked.
“Exactly,” I said.
“Let’s toast now, since later it’s going to be nuts,” Lila said. “To our gifted friend. This couldn’t have happened to a better person.”
We clinked glasses, and all settled back into our lounge chairs, content to do nothing at all but watch our kids and our men playing in the pool.