Page 89 of Nothing Less than Magic
I slide into a spot a good distance from the restaurant and trot through the lot to find a bathroom. There’s a line. When it’s my turn and a stall finally opens up, I pee twice.
I’m in the gift shop, searching for a last-minute present for Wallace’s dad, who is coming to dinner tomorrow night, when my phone rings. It’s a familiar area code. Ghost. My pulse picks up.
“Hello.” I step into a quiet corner and plug my non-phone ear with my finger. “Hello.”
But there’s no answer.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
I chalk it up to a butt-dial or a wrong number and hang up. It isn’t until I’m on the forty-mile stretch of the Grapevine that it occurs to me that I don’t have anyone in Ghost who could butt-dial me. No one but figments of my imagination.
Chapter 24
Lolly is pretending that I’m not sitting across from her at the table. She’s spent all evening making small talk with Wallace’s father. His name is Rudy, and he looks nothing like Wallace. But he’s a sweetheart like him and has a beautiful voice.
Before dinner, Uncle Sylvester played the piano, and Rudy sang “Angels We Have Heard on High,” hitting all the high notes like an opera singer.
I caught Taylor and Luna laughing at his vibrato and had to cover my mouth so no one would see me laughing, too.
Austin has texted me three times. I don’t think things are going well with him and his stepmother. But in a way, I’m relieved he didn’t come. I haven’t had a lot of time to myself since I left the hospital, and the six-hour drive was a nice break. Just me alone with my thoughts.
“The meal is amazing, Wallace.” He’s outdone himself.
The turkey looks like something out of a Julia Child cookbook, perfectly browned skin and cut in perfectly proportioned slices. There’s at least a dozen sides, including homemade cranberry sauce with orange slices. Mom used to serve it from a can in one round block with the ridges still on it. After Mom, and before Wallace, Uncle Sylvester used to take us to the W Hotel.
“Before we dig in, I want to propose a special toast to my niece, Chelsea.” Uncle Sylvester raises his glass. “All I can say is thank God you’re here.” He chokes up before he can finish, and then in a last-ditch effort, concludes with, “Don’t ever leave us again.”
There’s not a dry eye in the house, except, of course, for Lolly’s.
Still, the evening is fantastic, the best Christmas I can remember in a long time. Uncle Sylvester is so at ease, so comfortable, which I attribute to Wallace, who makes everyone comfortable. And Taylor and Luna regale the table with funny stories about the screenplay they’re writing. It’s about a flea named Fly, who travels to Dubai on the back of a Weimaraner that’s just won Best in Show at Westminster.
It sounds like a pretty original idea to me, and I wonder how they thought of it. I glance sideways at Lolly, but she’s looking at her phone.
We spend the rest of the evening opening gifts and singing more carols around the piano. Rudy does a version of “Silent Night” that blows me away. And the kids insist on “Jingle Bells,” which we all join in on.
I make my way around the room to Lolly’s side, hoping that I can force her into a conversation. Or at least a few cordial words. Just something to open the doors of communication. But as soon as I inch closer, she heads toward the bathroom. I know it’s a ploy to ditch me, but what am I supposed to do? Follow her into the loo and make a scene?
I linger in the hallway, waiting for her to come out, but Wallace asks me to help set the table for pie. And after dessert, Lolly announces that it’s time for them to leave. Rudy takes her cue and packs up his gifts, and they all walk out together. It’s just Uncle Sylvester, Wallace, and me.
I help clear the last of the dessert dishes, and the three of us clean the kitchen until it shines. Then we gather up all the torn wrapping paper and boxes and load it into a giant garbage bag, which Uncle Sylvester throws down the trash chute at the end of the hallway. It’s only ten, but I can barely keep my eyes open.
When I turn in for bed, I see that I have two missed calls from Austin. I should call him, wish him a Merry Christmas. But I roll over and go to sleep.
The next morning, I shower, dress, and drive to Malibu.
Interstate 10 to Santa Monica is a zoo, a complete madhouse. You would think everyone would stay home the day after Christmas and play with their new toys. But apparently, everyone is headed to the beach. It’s not even a good day for it. Windy and overcast. Though it’ll likely burn off by late morning and turn out to be a beautiful day, as is usually the case in Southern California.
As soon as I’m on the Pacific Coast Highway, traffic starts to move again. It’s one of the great mysteries of the world why everything comes to an abrupt halt and then, without reason, starts up again.
I’ve only been to Lolly’s house a few times and hope I can remember how to get there. After a few false starts, I plug her address into my phone and let my GPS take me there. I should’ve done that in the first place, but I let my arrogance get the better of me.
She’s not expecting me, and I have no idea if she’ll even be home. The kids are with Brent today. I know this because I overheard her bitching to Uncle Sylvester about how the schedule screwed up any chances of her spending the rest of the week at their condo in Hawaii. Poor, poor, Lolly, so deprived.
I’ve forgotten how gorgeous Lolly’s house is until I drive up her long, bougainvillea-lined driveway, and it takes my breath away. It’s a 1920s Spanish colonial with a Saltillo tiled courtyard and an impressive fountain. The house is perched high enough on a hill and angled in such a way that there’s a 180-degree unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean.
I cut the engine and just stare at it for a while. She got the house in the divorce, because both she and Brent agreed that they shouldn’t uproot the children. Otherwise, Lolly could never have afforded a home like this, even with her astronomical spousal support.
Brent is a Hollywood heavy hitter, who owns his own production and syndication company and is credited with launchingThe Ellen DeGeneres Showand distributing some of the top game shows on television, includingWheel of FortuneandJeopardy. Lolly met him through Uncle Sylvester.
