6. Emma
CHAPTER SIX
FRIDAY
When I put my unusually hyperactive kids in the car for school this morning, I considered writing a preemptive apology letter to their teachers. Everyone was excited about Tamara and Christie’s arrival. I thought it’d be better not to let the kids in on the surprise that everyone would be waiting for them when they got home from school. Hopefully, if they think they have to wait until after dinner to see everyone, they can sit still for at least a little while. Who am I kidding? I’ll be lucky if I don’t get a call to pick up Vicki before lunchtime. The thought makes me laugh out loud.
“It’s been a while since you had afullhouse,” my mother says.
“Mom, my house is always full.”
“Oh, you always have your hands full, I know that. But you know what I mean.”
I shrug. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“I can tell.”
I’m sure most people would think I’m crazy. Our house is about to welcome four extra adults and three more children under ten. By tomorrow, my brother and his family will be with us, too. It doesn’t bother me. I enjoy having a house full of people. I will admit a softer decibel level would sometimes be welcome. The great thing about our family is everyone is hands-on. No one abdicates responsibility to help, whether wrangling hyperactive kids, manning the grill, cleaning a scraped knee, or picking up after a meal—everyone pitches in. I admit the prep is a lot of work. Mom and I have been cooking for two days. But Addy and my dad have been a tremendous help in keeping the kids occupied.
Addison peeks into the kitchen. “Hey.”
“Hi, love.”
“Dad and I are about to take Noah to pick up Hannah. We’ll take them to the pond until it’s time for Vicki to come home.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to be here?” Emma asked. “Dad can handle the kids.”
“Yeah, he can. But given Hannah and Vicki’s excitement, I think an extra pair of hands might help.”
I chuckle. “Probably so.”
My mom chimes in. “I’ll pick Vicki up this afternoon,” she offers. “We can meet you at our house and then you can bring the kids home.”
“Are you sure?” Addison asks.
“Unless Emma needs me to stay,” Mom says.
“No,” I reply. “I think this is the last batch of baking for the day. I plan to take a long, hot bath before the masses arrive.” I look at Addison. “Unless you would rather I go with Dad.”
“No. You stay here and spend some time with Tam and Christie.”
“You realize Daniel will want to know where you are?” I ask Addison.
“Daniel will be enthralled with Auntie Emma like he always is.”
I grin. The way children gravitate to different adults always intrigues me. Vicki took to Tamara instantly. Daniel has been the same way with me since he was born.
“And you hate it,” Addison teases me.
I shrug. It's not a secret I delight in the kids’ attention and affection. That’s another trait Addy and I share. I likely would have become a teacher if I hadn't pursued acting. As much as I love my career, there will never be a role that means more to me than being a mother. I’ve always had this image of having a family with three children, and I feel incredibly blessed to have been granted my wish. But I would have welcomed the chance for another baby. Before my cancer diagnosis, Addy and I discussed the possibility of adding to our family. Getting pregnant at forty is not as easy as in your thirties. We were both hesitant about trying for another baby, knowing that it could be costly and potentially disappointing. While discussing my treatment options, Addy shared our conversation with my doctor. I love my doctor. She offered the possibility of postponing a total hysterectomy or attempting an egg retrieval but strongly advised the best course of action for a full recovery, with no cancer recurrence, was to proceed with the surgery. There was no debate between Addy and me. I needed to be healthy for our family—for Addy, too. Our reality and our decision about how to confront my cancer, in no small way, allowed us both to reconsider what we wanted to do with our careers. And that has led us to this weekend.
We love having a house full of family and friends and watching our children play with their cousins. That's one reason I hope everyone will be open to creating something together on the East Coast. My brothers' kids are older than our children. My nephews Andrew and Evan adore Vicki, Hannah, and Noah. But they're both preparing for college, and their lives are busy with friends and girlfriends—as it should be. Bringing our children closer to Tam, Christie, Jeff, and Sandra would give them the same opportunity I had growing up—playing, growing up with, and occasionally being annoyed by my siblings and cousins.
Addy's childhood differed dramatically from mine. She was an only child and didn't have many children who lived close to her parents. She has two cousins she still talks to frequently, but both are older. One lives in Florida, and the other is still in Maine. Addy's closest friendships only emerged once she was in college. She had friendshipsin school, but they didn't endure into her adulthood. While our experiences are nearly opposite, they've landed us on the same page about our family. We have always agreed on the importance of our children having long-lasting relationships.
Addison tips her head, sensing my thoughts have wandered. “Em? Are you sure you want me to go to the pond? I can come home instead.”
I shake my head. “Go on. Just don’t bring home any more tadpoles—please.”
Addy laughs. “Frogs?”
I pick up a dishtowel and throw it at Addy. “Get out of my kitchen.”
Addy chuckles and scampers from the kitchen, calling for Noah to follow her.
I shake my head again and look at my mother, “If she catches anything again, you are keeping it at your house.”
My mother laughs. “Emma?”
“Hm?”
“I don’t mean to pry.”
“But where did I disappear to?”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”
“It’s okay, Mom. How about a cup of coffee? I could probably use the jolt,” I say, turning to start the coffee pot.
“I never refuse coffee. You know that,” Mom says. “I have to go easy on the caffeine at home or your father will insist he gets to partake.”
I laugh.
“So don’t tell on me,” she says.
“You agree to free the tadpoles, frogs, toads, and fish Addy catches with the kids today before they make it to my house, and we have a deal.”
“Deal. I hope you realize Evan and Andrew are likely to take the kids to the pond with buckets before the weekend is over. And Noah will have everything they catch named before they make it to your yard.”
“He’s going to become a zookeeper,” I say as I place two mugs on the table and retrieve the milk from the refrigerator. All my children love animals—Noah most of all. He’s constantly bringing me tadpoles, fish, frogs, toads, and bugs. It’s a good thing Addy grew up hiking, fishing, and hunting, and I was raised with two brothers because Noah finds some of the creepiest creatures you might imagine. And he names every one of them! The only time I’ve seen Addy cringe was when Noah and I found a garter snake by the pond. I’m not sure I've ever laughed as hard as I did at the shriek that came out of my wife. “Let’s hope Noah doesn’t find any snakes for Addy.”
Mom laughs. “Emmie?”
I sigh as I retrieve the coffee pot and make my way back to the table.
“Is everything okay?” Mom asks.
I pour coffee into our cups, set the pot aside, and take a seat across from my mother. It isn’t lost on me how fortunate I am. My mom isn’t only kind and generous, she’s honest—sometimes, brutally so. She never offers an opinion to be hurtful, and she doesn’t give unsolicited advice. But if you ask my mother how she feels about anything or anyone, she will tell you the truth—even if she knows it is not what you want to hear. I detect worry pulling at her eyes.
“Everything is good, Mom, I promise.”
“You’re feeling all right?”
I had thought Addy would have the strongest reaction to the news about my cancer. She was floored and frightened, but Addison remained calm—at least she did outwardly. My mother struggled. She tried to hide it from me, but her hands trembled when I gave her the news. I know she wanted to be my greatest support, but I also understand the mere thought of losing a child is unbearable. My cousin, Rick, died when he was thirty-nine from a rare form of blood cancer. It shook our family. I think the ghosts of her experience linger for my mom.
“Mom, I’m fine. Honestly. Clean bill of health.”
Mom nods.
I reach over and take her hand. There are a few things I still haven’t told my mother. That’s unusual. But I needed time to process everything, and this was one journey I kept as private as I could, turning to Addy for support and comfort—something that has strengthened our marriage more than I might have imagined.
“I never told you this, but a few months before I found out about my cancer, Addy and I talked about having another baby.”
“Oh, Emmie.”
“It’s okay. We hadn’t decided to try.”
“But you wanted to,” Mom says.
“I would have if Addy agreed—yes.”
“Emmie. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I guess I needed to work through my new reality. I’m not even sure we would have chosen that path, Mom. Having the choice taken from me was hard—more than I thought it would be.”
“I can imagine.” Mom sips her coffee silently and then sets down her cup. “There’s something else on your mind,” she says.
“Addy wrote a pilot script for a new series.”
“Would it be presumptuous for me to assume this is something for you?”
“It is,” I reply.
“Missing California?”
“More like I’m missing a part of myself,” I say. “And we all miss Tam and Christie.”
“When do you think you’ll make the move?”
“You don’t seem surprised,” I observe.
“I’m not. I’ve wondered when you two would move back to LA.”
“Well, then, this might surprise you.”
“What?”
“If we make a move, it won’t be back to Los Angeles. It will be to the East Coast.”
Mom flops backward in her chair and stares at me.
“Told you it might surprise you.”
“Where?”
“Well, I don’t know where we would live. I think the show is likely to film in New York.” Seeing my mother’s unspoken questions, I continue. “Christie landed a part on a new series in Boston.”
“Boston?”
“Mm-hm. She’s the lead—a detective.”
“Are you telling me Tam and Christie are moving to Boston?” Mom asks.
“To the area—yes.”
“Wow. And that’s why you want to make a show in New York?”
“It’s part of the reason. Listen, I’m not even certain it will happen, Mom. We haven’t talked to everyone yet, and we’d still have to pitch it. But I’m confident if Sandra is on board, selling it won’t be an issue.”
“Sandra? Is this a reboot of Off Screen?”
“Hardly. No. This one features a frazzled, closeted, forty-year-old, single, workaholic who finds herself taking custody of her father’s three young children—siblings she never knew existed.”
Mom’s eyebrows arch into her hairline, and she bites her lip to keep from laughing.
“I know!” I chuckle. “If you think hearing me explain it to you is funny, wait until you see it unfold.”
“It sounds to me like this is a part made for you.”
“Oh? What gave it away? It can’t be the closeted part. Frazzled?”
Mom laughs hysterically.
“I guess that answers my question,” I say, joining in the laughter.
“If anyone could create a show about the chaos of raising three kids, it’s you and Addy.”
“Mm. It’s brilliant,” I tell her. “Addy at her best.”
“Better than Off Screen?”
“Different,” I reply. “Warm, sincere, painful, funny—honest.”
“You’re excited about it,” my mom says.
“The moment I read it, I knew it was the part I’d been waiting to play.”
Mom smiles, reaches across the table, and squeezes my hand. “You have a sparkle in your eyes.”
“Do I?”
“Yes—a sparkle I’ve missed seeing this year.”
I sigh. “It hasn’t been easy.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“And I won’t pretend I’m not terrified. The idea of leaving here—of starting something new in a place where I’ve never lived is?—”
“An adventure,” Mom says. “The best ones always come with a little nail-biting.”
“True. I hope I’m not being selfish. The kids?—”
“Emmie, you are a wonderful mother. Those kids love you and Addy and more importantly, they trust you. They’ll resent you for something—just like you harbor a few grudges with us.”
“I don’t.”
“You do. We all do—just a little. You still cringe when I suggest you wear anything pink—even nail polish. I have it on good authority the reason we never saw you wear pink on Off Screen was the, and I quote, ‘aversion my mother caused with her obsessive pinkness,’ end quote.”
I laugh. “Addy told you that?”
“Nope.”
“Sandra?”
Mom winks at me. “I’ll hate watching you leave.”
My heart clenches and I look at my hands as they twist a napkin.
“But I will enjoy every moment of watching you take flight again.”
I look up at my mom.
“I’ve enjoyed having you close, Emmie—watching you and Addy with the kids. But you’re both meant for something other than living in rural Kansas. It’s part of you. But it’s only a part. And that’s okay. It’s time for you to fly. Don’t worry so much about the landing. You have someone who will cushion your fall, and the kids have you to catch them.”
“You’ve been expecting this, haven’t you?”
“I can’t claim I expected you to move to New York. But I know you.”
“I still worry.”
“I know you do,” Mom says. “But I think it’s time you accept who you are. To the kids, you’re Mom—you will always be Mom. They’ll be horrified by the attention you get—by hearing someone say their mother is sexy or she’s someone’s crush.”
I chuckle.
“But they’ll also be proud of you. This is their reality. They have two beautiful, talented, and famous women as parents—two women who love each other and love them more than anything. And as they grow, if you’re honest with them, they’ll come to see you as both the mom who raised them and the woman behind her. Just like you do with me. And as much as they will always be your babies, you’ll take pride in the people they become. Just like I do with you.”
“Mom.”
Mom clears her throat, takes the last sip of her coffee, and slides out of her chair.
“Are you leaving?” I ask.
“I have a few things I want to do before your wife and my husband walk through the door with three muddy kids and a bucket full of creatures,” she says, leaning down to kiss my cheek.
I laugh.
“Enjoy your bath,” Mom says.
“Mom?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Emmie.”
“I think Daniel might find a hiding place so he can stay here with Auntie Em,” Tamara says and bursts into laughter. “Your parents didn’t think that through, did they?”
I’d love to believe my parents never shared a laugh over the reality that one day I would become Auntie Em from Kansas. While I’m confident it wasn’t the reason they named me Emma, I’m also sure they’ve enjoyed more than a few jokes at my expense. “At least they didn’t name me Dorothy,” I reply.
Sandra laughs. “Good thing. I’m sure Tam would have bought you a basket instead of a bassinet if they had.”
“Nah. But I would love to see Emma try to put King in her bicycle basket,” Tamara says.
Christie smacks Tamara’s arm.
“What?” Tamara asks.
“Aunt Em?” Daniel asks.
Tamara sniggers.
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Daniel?”
“When’s Auntie Addy coming home?”
“Oh, she’ll be here soon, and so will Hannah,” I tell him.
Daniel brightens.
I look over at Brody, who is quite evidently bored with the adult conversation. I can’t say I blame him. I’m sure he hoped Vicki would greet him at the door. “Brody? Why don’t you take Daniel and your sister outside for a little while? Addy will be home soon from picking up Vicki at school.”
Daniel looks at Brody hopefully.
Brody smiles at me. “Sure, Aunt Em.”
Brody beckons the two younger children to follow him outside.
The look on my face must be comical because everyone bursts into laughter. Looking at the smirk on Brody’s face, I see his father staring back at me, and my heart clenches slightly. I miss Dan. I think we all do. He was more than a co-star to me and Sandra. Dan was the love of her life and another big brother to me. I don’t mean to suggest Sandra doesn’t love Jeff. She does. And God knows, Jeff loves her. Jeff has been an amazing father to Brody. It doesn’t stop me from seeing glimpses of Dan in the way Brody laughs and speaks.
“He sounded just like Dan,” Jeff says with a chuckle.
I watch as Sandra squeezes Jeff’s hand. I have to give Jeff a lot of credit. He’s made every effort to keep Dan alive for Brody, always pointing out things Dan liked or sharing a story about our times together. I’ve had the good fortune to work on two hit series, and both were amazing experiences. But Off Screen was unique. We cultivated something special on set—a closeness and kindness that extended to every person who worked with us—something you don’t often. Sandra always says I set that tone. It’s a nice compliment, but it’s hardly accurate. We all set the tone. As much as I’ve been committed to being present for my kids, there’s another reason I’ve never pursued or entertained offers for a regular role in a series. It would be difficult to find another environment like the one we had on Off Screen.
“Emma?” Tamara calls for my attention. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” I apologize.
“Okay. I’m sure you are waiting for Addy to drop whatever bomb you’ve got on us, but the suspense is killing me!” Tamara says.
“There’s no bomb,” I tell her. “And I should think you would have a clue.”
Tamara’s eyes widen. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? Addy’s new show.”
I’d prefer to wait for Addison to talk to everyone. Knowing my kids, it’ll likely take Addy half an hour to get everyone into her car to drive the five minutes down the road from my parent’s house. I know she’ll understand. I also think she might be grateful if I broach this subject first.
“I’d like to do the show,” I reply. I catch Sandra’s grin out of the corner of my eye, telling me she’s already brought my idea up to Jeff.
“Wow. So? Back to LA, huh?” Tamara asks.
I sigh. “Actually, Tam, Addy and I think it might be better to set the show in New York.”
It’s not often anything renders Tamara silent. I think her jaw may have dropped through my floor.
“New York?” Christie asks.
I nod. “I expected to talk to all of you about this tonight when Addy was here, and the kids were asleep, and after everyone had a few glasses of wine.”
“Okay?” Christie asks. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
“Maybe. That depends on everyone here,” I reply. I look to Sandra for encouragement and receive a wink.
“I know Addy told you she'd hoped to bring Christie and me together on the screen—finally.”
“I would have loved to work together,” Christie says.
“I know. Me too.” I take a deep breath. “There’s a lot to consider, and more to work through.”
A chorus of squeals and screams filters into our living room from the yard. It shouldn’t, but it surprises me when I feel Addy’s hand on my shoulders. She leans down and kisses my cheek.
“I guess Em let you in our plans,” Addison says.
I reach up and take Addy’s hand in mine.
“I hope we can talk about it this weekend,” Addy says. “It’s not the reason we asked you to come. The reason we invited you here this weekend is the same reason we want to launch this show. We miss you—all of you.”
I squeeze Addison’s hand.
“Well, I’m game,” Jeff says.
“To move across the country?” Addison asks.
Sandra smiles at me and lifts her gaze to Addison. “Addy, I would go anywhere for the chance to work with Emma again.”
“And I feel the same way,” Jeff says. “Look. We’ve brought some great stories to life as a team.”
“Jeff, you’ve had enormous success without me. You both have,” Addison says.
Addison's words are genuine, not just empty phrases. Jeff was a producer on my first show, Found. That’s how we met. He was also responsible for getting Off Screen picked up, and he has been part of launching two successful shows on streaming services. Sandra has also made a name for herself, having played a recurring role in a popular sci-fi series and a significant role in a superhero blockbuster last year. They don't need our help to find work. They’ve proven themselves in the industry. The truth is we could all have successful careers without working together. We all entered this business because we love it—it's our passion and something that brings us joy and fulfillment. Success looks different for everyone. While winning awards and negotiating lucrative contracts is gratifying, money and fame don't drive any of us. Once you've experienced waking up early every day because you can't wait to get to set and do what you love, it's hard to settle for anything less.
“Maybe so,” Jeff says. “We’ve all been fortunate, Addy—all of us. But it hasn’t been the same with you and Em.”
“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more than for everyone in this room to be part of this project,” Addison says. “I know you might think I wrote it for Em. I did, but it’s more than that. It’s about discovering and creating a family—blending the parts of your family you inherit with the ones you want to share your life.”
I squeeze Addy’s hand again. “I know there’s a lot to work out—and even more for everyone to consider,” I say. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I think we should set our sights on working together again.” I look at Christie. “And getting to work together finally.”
“Hey, you know I’m on board. If you can find a way to make this work with my shooting schedule and contractual obligations, I’m in,” Christie says.
“Just one thing,” Sandra chimes. “Addy shared the nuts and bolts of this with me. How do you think an audience will feel about the three of us in this together? I mean, some people were attached to me and Emma as an on-screen couple, and some were attached to me and Christie.”
Jeff laughs. “It’s gold, honey,” he says. “Trust me on this one. It’s gold.”
“Mom!”
“Well, that lasted longer than I expected,” I joke. “We’re in here!” I call out to Vicki.
Vicki walks into the room and shakes her head.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Can we go to the pond?”
I hear Addison snigger.
“Hannah and Noah already went to the pond today,” I reply.
“Yeah, but me and Brody didn’t. And Daniel wants to see the frogs.”
“What do you say, Addy?” Jeff asks.
“Sure,” Addison replies.
“Count me in,” Tamara says. “I heard Noah found a snake. Addy hates snakes.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Addison says.
“Noah!” Vicki calls out.
Noah runs into the room, and I giggle. I’m sure all the kids have been waiting in the kitchen for Vicki’s signal.
Noah offers the room a shy grin and moves in front of my legs.
“Auntie Tam was curious about the snake you found,” I tell him.
Noah turns to Tamara and holds his arms apart. “He was big.”
I have to hold back a laugh. The snake was about a foot long, hardly big. Big enough to scare the hell out of Addy, though. I tilt my head to look at her and lose all hope of containing myself. The look of utter horror on her face sends me into a fit of laughter. “It wasn’t that big,” I manage to say.
“It was huge!” Addy says.
I double over in the chair.
“It was cute,” Vicki says.
“It was a snake!” Addison argues. “It’s not funny, Emma. Snakes bite.”
Addison makes me giggle. I'm tempted to remind her she’s caught a few things over the years that bite, from spiders to turtles. Most recently, she cornered an opossum who wandered into our garage. Rather than simply opening the garage door for the little guy to go back outside, Addy designed an elaborate yet harmless trap with one of my mother’s old cat carriers. She argued she should let him go somewhere away from the cars that come and go. I gently reminded her the opossum likely lived close to the house and found his way inside when she came home late and forgot to close the garage. Addy shrugged and grinned. She wanted Noah to be able to see the opossum up close. If it weren’t for King, she probably would have tried to convince me Oscar, the opossum, needed a new home and set out with my father to build him a little opossum condominium. Sometimes, Addy is the biggest kid in my house. It’s one reason I love her so much. I swear Noah gets his zookeeper gene from Addy, minus his fascination with snakes.
“Wasn’t it a garter snake? That’s what Em told me,” Tamara says.
“Snake, Tam. A big snake,” Addison says.
Addy is stunned when I leave my chair and pull her into my arms for a kiss.
“Em?”
“You are adorable sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Addison asks.
Tamara groans. “Oh, my God. You two have been together for over a decade; shouldn’t you be more like Archie and Edith by now?”
Addy looks at me lovingly as she addresses Tamara. “I think it’s more like a sequel—Hannah in the Middle, maybe?” she offers.
I chuckle. “Just—please—leave the wild animals in the wild.”
Addy winks and kisses my cheek. “All right, Meathead, let’s get going,” she tells Tamara.
Christie and I exchange an amused glance as Tamara grumbles and follows Addison to the kitchen.
Noah looks up at me curiously. “Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Does Auntie Tam have meat in her head?” Noah asks innocently.
The room bursts into laughter as I pick Noah up and hug him. “No, honey. It’s just Momma’s silly way of telling Auntie Tam she loves her. You can help Tam find some frogs at the pond, okay?”
Noah kisses my cheek. “Okay, Meathead.”
I shouldn’t laugh, but I can’t help it. Addy will have some explaining to do to Noah about why calling people a meathead is not a great idea. For now, I’m content to accept his innocent endearment. I lower him back to the floor, lean down, and whisper into his ear. “Meathead is a special thing between Momma and Tam, okay?” I tell him.
“But I love you,” he whispers to me.
“And I love you. And do you know what I love more than anything?”
Noah shakes his head.
“Being your Mommy,” I tell him.
Noah grins. “Okay, Mommy.”
I watch as Vicki takes Noah’s hand, my heart swelling at the sight. Despite her bravado, Vicki is an attentive and gentle big sister.
“Come on, Noah,” Vicki says. “We get a whole weekend with our family.”
I catch Addy’s expression and smile. Listening to our children erases any shred of doubt I’ve carried about pursuing this move.
“We’ll see you in a bit,” Addison promises.
“Emma?” Christie calls to me.
I turn and offer my friends a smile.
“Are you sure you and Addy want to leave here?” Christie asks.
“I’m sure I want to be closer to both of you—if we can make it happen,” I reply.
“Your family is here,” Christie says.
Sandra smiles at me knowingly.
“Only part of our family,” I say. “No matter where we go, we’ll miss someone, and someone will miss us. It isn’t only me and Addy who miss you.”
“No kidding,” Sandra says. “Brody has loads of friends, but he never stops talking about Vicki.”
I take a deep breath. “You know,” I begin. “When Addy and I met, I considered walking away from acting completely.”
Christie doesn’t look surprised, but Sandra appears shocked.
“It’s true,” I say. “Before Addy and I admitted how we felt, I knew I loved her. I was here in Kansas when I learned Found was canceled. She’d given me the draft of the pilot for Off Screen. It was brilliant. I kept reading it, and I couldn’t deny it any longer—how much I loved her. But I thought it would be selfish of me to bring her into my world. I worried about the attention she’d get because of me, and I feared the blowback from our relationship might hurt her chances of launching a project. After talking to my mom, I decided to fly back to LA and tell Addy I loved her and would give anything to be with her. I’d give up my career if she asked. And I was prepared to walk away from it.”
My mind wanders back to the first time I told Addy I loved her—the first time we made love.
“But the moment I saw her, the moment she looked at me, I knew I would never need to walk away from acting. She was right. Everyone deserves a life out of the spotlight. It wasn’t easy—in fact, sometimes, it still isn’t. I wish I could claim hearing nasty things people say about her or our family doesn’t hurt. It does. But it doesn’t cling to us.” I sigh. “I love being here—we both do, but I think I also wanted to believe I could separate Emma from Emmie—that somehow keeping my family here would erase the unkindness fame can invite. Even if I quit—never returned to a stage or a set, there would be chatter—old or new. I don’t know if we’ll ever strike a perfect balance,” I confess. “But I know we’ve missed you. And God help me, I don’t want to walk away from my career. I don’t need the spotlight, but I also know it’s likely to shine on all of us again.”
Christie’s known me the longest of any of our friends—almost as long as Addy has known Tam.
“Well,” Christie says, “There isn’t anyone I’d rather share the stage, screen, or spotlight with than the two of you.”
“Same,” Sandra agrees.
I smile. “What do you say we seal it with some wine?”
“Lead on,” Christie says.
“Um, Em?” Sandra asks.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t really think they might bring back a snake, do you?” Sandra asks.
Christie and I look at each other and laugh, knowing they’ll come back with something creepy, crawly, or slimy.
“Em?” Sandra asks again.
“Don’t worry,” Christie says. “Tam talks a good game. Anything slipperier than a frog, and she’ll run with Addy for the hills.”
I laugh. “And that’s a long run,” I say.
Sandra shivers. “Frogs?”
I wink at Sandra and continue to laugh. I’ll have to ask Addy to add a frog into one of her scenes. I can’t wait.