Chapter 15 Hailey
Hailey
The hike back down to the car was easier, given that it was mostly downhill.
I was pretty sure Tori was thinking about that kiss up by the overlook, the same way I was.
If that runner hadn’t come by, who knows what would have happened?
I wanted her. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted someone in my life.
But she was here for, what? A day? Two? Then she’d head back to her fancy movie star life where she lounged around by swimming pools and wore fancy dresses to exclusive events, and I’d go back to pulling espresso shots and reading alone on my couch.
When we got back to my apartment Tori went to take a shower, and I decided I needed some advice.
Hailey: Hey Mom, are you alone? I need to talk to you about something confidential.
Mom: Sure honey. You know I can keep a secret. What’s going on?
Hailey: You can’t say anything, can’t hint about this, to anyone, OK Mom? It would put someone in danger.
Mom: Did you get busted growing pot?
Hailey: I don’t grow pot! Or smoke it.
Mom: Oh. Huh. I always assumed you did. You’re so chill all the time.
I held my phone out to stare at the screen, wondering if my mother was the one smoking pot. They grew it in the community, like every commune in the state I’m sure, as well as some other plants of questionable legality.
Hailey: Do you know who Victoria Cross is?
Mom: No. Should I?
Hailey: She’s a big movie star. Very famous.
Mom: You know I don’t pay attention to any of that. I swear they haven’t made a good movie since 1980. And that crap that passes as TV now… don’t get me started.
Hailey: This woman came into Morning Jolt, and she didn’t have cash to tip me, so she ended up coming to my apartment to remedy that. It turns out she’s a super famous actress who’s hiding out from the press.
Mom: Vultures.
Hailey: Yeah, so somehow she’s staying at my apartment.
Mom: Couldn’t she afford a hotel? I mean, no offense, but your place isn’t that nice. If she’s really a famous star, it’s got to be a downgrade.
Hailey: She doesn’t want the press to find her and, well, I’m not totally sure how it happened, but she came to my place and never left. She slept over last night, and we spent the day together today.
Mom: Oh Hailey, you always were too soft-hearted for your own good. What if it’s all just a scam? Maybe she’s just a look-alike running a con.
Hailey: I’m pretty sure it’s not, she looks just like her pictures and she’s definitely a fish out of water here in the real world. But there’s more. We kissed. Twice. And it was really good. Best kisses ever. But she’s only in town for a few days.
Mom: No reason you can’t have sex with her though, if she wants it too.
Hailey: I just met her yesterday.
Mom: I thought I raised you better than to be a prude. It’s just sex. Just be careful though honey. People like that, they’re way different from us. Not just their lifestyle, but their morals and priorities. Have fun, but don’t fall in love and get hurt.
Hailey: I won’t Mom. Thanks.
I just hoped I could keep that promise.
Torie came out of the shower wearing the shorts and tee shirt I’d loaned her to use as pajamas, a pair of socks on her feet.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I grabbed a pair of socks from your drawer.”
I couldn’t decide if it was rude or surprisingly intimate that she’d go into my dresser looking for socks. Then again, I had told her to make herself at home...
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I know it’s early for dinner, but we didn’t have lunch so I’m ready to eat my own arm.”
“We don’t want that,” she said, her eyes dancing. “You need your arm to make coffee. What were you thinking?”
“Do you like Thai? I was thinking we could just order a mess of stuff and eat it for the rest of the day whenever we’re hungry.”
Tori looked more excited than I’d ever seen anyone be about Thai food in my life. “I love that idea.”
“Hold on.” I went to my phone and dialed the Thai place up the street. “Kim? Hi, yeah it’s Hailey. Can you do a delivery?”
Tori hid in the bedroom when the food arrived. I’d warned her that Kim usually came into the apartment for a few minutes to chat. Once I’d gotten my kind-of friend out of my place, Tori came back out.
“Do you have a laptop?” she asked.
“Of course, I’m not a total luddite.”
It was ten years old and I needed to keep it plugged in at all times because the battery only lasted thirty minutes, but I didn’t need to share that.
“Would it be weird if I asked you to watch one of my movies while we eat?” Her question seemed surprisingly vulnerable. “We can use my phone as a hot spot.”
I shrugged. I had to admit I was curious.
“Sure. What do you want to watch?”
“People say that the first Susie Sniper movie is my best movie.”
The way she said it gave me pause. “What do you think your best movie is?” I asked curiously.
She looked at the floor for a second, then back up to me. “I did a low budget film that was shown at the Venice Film Festival called My Mother’s Funeral. The critics loved it, but it wasn’t a commercial success.”
I couldn’t interpret her expression, it seemed to be a mixture of embarrassment and sadness.
“Do all your movies have to be commercial successes?”
“A lot of people depend on me financially,” she said after a long pause.
“If I don’t make money, neither do they.
I agreed to make this film right after I fired my mom, and before I signed with Bob.
He’s my current agent. It was the only acting decision I made totally on my own.
It was also the hardest movie I’ve ever done, and the one I’m most proud of.
I know without a doubt it’s my best work. ”
“In that case, that’s the one we should watch.”
Because my laptop was tiny, I went downstairs to borrow the projector that we used when we had presentations or movie nights at Morning Jolt.
I didn’t usually work those shifts, but I knew how to work the projector.
Tori activated her hotspot and signed the computer into one of the streaming services, cueing up the movie while I unpacked the food and brought us in plates and silverware.
“What would you like to drink?” I asked. “I usually have a beer when I eat Thai food.”
“Sounds great.”
We settled side by side on the couch, filling our plates and then turning our attention to the movie. It had an arty quality to it, the film almost grainy.
I watched engrossed as a younger Tori, playing a character named Marie, returned to a small town to bury her mother.
Her story, told through a series of flashbacks, showed a difficult relationship with her alcoholic mother.
After a hard childhood, she went to college on a scholarship and became a successful businesswoman who only had intermittent contact with her mother.
It was only after her mother died that Marie realized how much her mother loved her and how much she’d missed by not having a relationship with her, despite her addiction.
By the time the movie was halfway done, I was crying. When Tori saw the tears falling down my cheeks, she put her arm around me and I snuggled into her side, sniffling as I watched the rest of the movie.
“That was…” I turned to face Tori, wanting her to see the truth in my words. “That was your best movie ever.”
She frowned. “You said you never saw any of my movies.”
“I haven’t. But there’s no way Susie Sniper or any of your other films can possibly be that good.”
We were both quiet as the credits rolled, then I asked the question that had been in my head the entire movie.
“If this is the movie you love, why aren’t you making more like this?” I asked.
She’d talked a little about her other films since I met her yesterday, and she hadn’t sounded the least bit excited about any of them. Not the way she was about the movie we’d just watched.
“That movie made very little money,” she said. “I worked for scale.”
At my blank look she added, “It’s like minimum wage for actors. But I did it because I wanted this story to be told. And I knew my name being attached to it would ensure that it got the visibility it deserved.”
“Don’t you have a lot of money?” I asked. “I assume as famous as you say you are, you must command a high salary.”
“I’m a multi-millionaire,” she said, as if it was nothing.
“So you don’t really need to do any more blockbuster movies to survive?”
She shrugged, looking the slightest bit embarrassed now. “I could live comfortably on my investments and residuals for the rest of my life.”
“Then why don’t you do that? Then you can use your time to perform in the movies you like, movies that matter. Like this one.”