28. Heidi
HEIDI
Three days pass.
I’m standing in Clara’s kitchen, trying to stir a pot of boxed mac and cheese while the youngest niece, Annalise, clings to my leg.
Vivian called yesterday. She was calm, measured, and terrifyingly polite. The ratings, she told me, were incredible. Historic, actually. Clips of Grace’s meltdown are everywhere. Engagement is through the roof.
The network is thrilled.
Naturally, I won’t be working there again. Vivian didn’t spell it out, but she didn’t have to.
So I packed my life into cardboard boxes and moved into the corner of Clara’s living room behind a folding screen. It’s very temporary. Just until I find work. Though I have no idea what that work might be, or who would hire me right now with my face plastered all over the internet.
Penelope and Delaney are already doing interviews. Apparently they suspected something all along. They’re describing our supposed inappropriate behavior in vivid detail, most of which is a complete fabrication.
I can’t really hold it against them, I suppose. It’s a chance to boost themselves—to make it seem like they never stood a chance with Max because the manipulative producer had him wrapped around her finger all along.
“Is it ready?” Annalise asks, tugging at my trousers.
“If you like it crunchy, it is,” I say.
“Ewww.”
“Aunt Heidi,” Kaylee says, storming into the kitchen with my phone in her hand. “It’s Max Carter.”
She holds up the buzzing screen. I like how they always call him Max Carter and not just Max.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the phone. I cancel the call and lock it.
“I thought he was your boyfriend,” she says. “You never answer.”
“I’m not sure anymore.”
I stir the mac and cheese. It’s getting close.
“But why won’t you talk to him?”
“Because I’m not ready,” I say.
Max blew my career apart on television after I specifically asked him not to.
He had a choice. He could have said that it wasn’t me.
But he didn’t. I understand the reasons—he was put on the spot.
Maybe he just wanted to be honest. But at the end of the day, he knew what he was doing.
He knew what my career meant to me, and he decided for both of us that our relationship was more important.
My phone starts buzzing again. He’s called seventy-three times now.
I ignore it and keep stirring the macaroni.
Right now, I have bigger problems than Max.
Like the fact that I’m unemployed, technically homeless, and responsible for feeding three children who would happily survive on popsicles and cereal if left unsupervised.
For the first time in a long time, I have no idea what comes next.