Page 84 of Act Like You Don't Care
“I’m thinking about changing agents,” she replied immediately. “Do you think you could introduce me to yours?”
Jim’s face twitched, the muscle at the side of his jaw bulging, then he dropped his napkin on his plate and stood up. “That’s enough. I agreed to this ambush because you said you just wanted to meet him. I’m taking you home.” He pushed his chair in to the table, glanced around at us all and stopped when he met my eyes. “I’m sorry.” He reached for Odette’s arm and she pulled it away abruptly.
“What do you think you’re doing? We’re just two actors talking shop. If you can’t handle it, you can leave. By yourself,” she snapped.
“You’re making a fool of yourself,” he said in a low hiss, but not low enough that the rest of us didn’t hear it.
Her face flushed and her eyes glittered. “What would you know? You don’t have an artistic bone in your body.”
Everyone at the table went stock still, even me, holding our breaths. Waiting.
“We’re going,” Jim said and grabbed her arm again.
“I am not!” She threw her glass of water on him, then froze, a horrified expression on her face as she remembered that we were all sitting there at the table watching her. It only lasted a few seconds before her face fell and tears started streaming down her cheeks. “How could you do this to me? You always make me the bad guy, you never do anything for me!” She bolted from the kitchen, the words, “You just want me to be miserable and a failure because you know you’re not good enough for me!”
If she’d stabbed Jim, I don’t think she could have hurt him worse. He was very much in love with her, judging by the pain in his expression. I started to reach out to ask if he wanted me to talk to her, but Miles was quicker, shoving his chair back to go to his brother.
Jim shrugged him off. “I’d better go after her,” he said in a voice that shook audibly. His eyes met mine. “I’m sorry about that. She just wants this so badly, you know? And I can’t help her.” He ducked his head and strode toward the front door.
The room went uncomfortably silent for a moment, then Miles’s mother lifted her head. “What’s that noise?”
Something like glass breaking, out in front of the house. I started to get to my feet but Miles waved me back down. “I’ll go check on him.” He smiled at me, then followed the same path Jim had taken, his father right behind him.
Which left me sitting at the table with Miles’s mother and no idea what to say.
I sipped at my water and debated picking up my fork for another go at the chicken. I had, at least, eaten some of it, but things were still tricky on the food front and we’d had enough drama so far tonight.
“If you’d rather have something else, we can see what’s in the cupboard,” Greta said, looking pointedly at my plate.
“I find it better if I take things slow,” I explained awkwardly. “Not sure how that’s going to go over on set, but I’m crossing my fingers that this phase is over by the time real filming starts.”
“Miles says you have your first read-through tomorrow?”
I nodded and scooped up a small forkful of the fluffiest mashed potatoes ever. “Read throughs for the first couple of weeks, then we move into rehearsals.” I put the potatoes in my mouth and waited, but my stomach seemed okay with these, so I swallowed and reached for my water glass.
What did you talk about with someone who wasn’t really your mother-in-law right after a big family explosion? It didn’t seem like the right time to start asking her about where Miles’s name came from. Maybe offer to see if I could find work for Jim’s wife? I didn’t really want to, because I suspected it wouldn’t reflect well on me. Especially if tonight’s behavior was typical for her. I had enough baggage of my own—I didn’t need to be picking up someone else’s.
Greta picked up her fork. “Thank you for being so patient with Odette. I warned him when he brought her home, but he was starstruck.” She shook her head in some dark humor and poked at her green beans.
“It’s fine. There’s always someone wanting something in Hollywood. I can ask my agent if she knows of anything coming up that might work for her.” It would probably be a no, but at least I could say I’d tried. I’d do as much for one of my cousins. Miles’s family wasn’t a long stretch.
Greta shook her head. “She’s pretty, but she has more ambition than talent. We’ve worked with enough actors and entertainment people to have a sense of who’s going places and who isn’t. But thank you for offering.”
My first thought was that she was writing Jim’s wife off pretty hard, though I had to admit it had been my impression of her too. Then I wondered what she saw my future like. “Is that why I’m here? So you can figure out if I’m going places?”
She laughed softly. “No, I think we both know the answer to that. But a baby changes everything. Miles is determined that this isn’t going to derail your career and you don’t have any family here to handle sudden schedule changes. I was hoping we could offer to stand in as family.”
I’d opened my mouth to argue when she made the baby comment, then closed it again. It was… sweet. Very kind. “This is still my child. I’ll make the decisions.” She was very strong-willed, from everything Miles had said, though her iron fist seemed to be wrapped up in a good layer of memory foam. But I’d found it was better to lay out the ground rules right at the beginning in most things. Start as you mean to go on, as my mother would have said. I didn’t see any reason why this would be different.
She nodded. “It’s Miles’s too.”
“I know.” I poked at my chicken and ate a bite, then another. Miles’s chicken was getting cold, the spiced, carbonized outer layer sending weaker and weaker drifts of stomach-grumbling odor toward me. I leaned over and picked a bit off to try it. While I chewed—and waited on my stomach’s verdict—I thought about what I needed to say here. It was important and I didn’t want to get it wrong.
For the first time, I wished I had a writer here to work on the scene and tell me what to say. They always had good ideas. “I want him to be involved. And if you want to be involved, then I’d like that too. I don’t know how this is going to go, I just know that I couldn’t end it. Avoiding a short stall in my career isn’t worth… that.”
She nodded in approval. “Well, just so you know, we’re here to help you not stall. I’ll give you everyone’s phone numbers. If you need anything, you can just call and someone will make sure it gets to you.” She stared down at her plate, then raised her eyes to look at me. “I don’t know how this is going to work either. I suppose we’ll just have to feel our way forward, if you’re willing.”
“I’m willing.” I smiled and stole another bite of Miles’s chicken. “I’m surprised this is staying down, the way I’ve been feeling lately.” When that bite decided to stay put, I stole another one, meeting his mother’s amused expression with my own.
