Campbell (28 page)

It had taken him a while to convince the kids with Disney contracts that were still alive to sign with them, and as part of Tal agreeing to work with Connor again, he was given the newly launched legal department, as well as the finances to run. Connor was given an allowance for spending, but if he wanted access to bigger funds, they had to discuss it.
 

Two months in, and Connor had turned to other sources outside their business for his entertainment and things were thriving. They had cut and edited four films, the first of which was scheduled for release the next week.
 

After nearly a year without new movies, the buzz for
Hard Sell
, which they were billing as Tom Cruise’s last masterpiece, was rampant. Tickets in fifteen theatres were sold out, and they had requests coming in from kids outside LA that wanted to learn how to screen it at their local theatres to make a quick buck, so he’d put Leah on negotiating that end of things. Tal had played around with the reel at the Kodak Theatre for the better part of a week until he was confident that it would work.
 

Hard Sell
was an experiment. So far, it had already made them a million dollars with no investment on their part, since it had already been shot and mostly edited.
 

“Someone’s here to see you,” Leah said, popping her head into his office after Ella left. “He’s big.”

Tal put his hand under his desk to verify that his gun was there.

The kid wasn’t one Tal had seen before, and had to be over six feet tall, with an impressive dirt moustache. He sat down heavily in the chair across from Tal and frowned at him.

“You’re the kid that runs the money.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Who are you?” Tal asked, angling his gun to a position where he was fairly certain he’d shoot him in the knee from under his desk.

“I’m from East Los. And I want to show your movie there.”

Tal nodded out the door. “My cousin, the girl out there. She’s organizing where things are shown. You want to talk to her.”

He was Mexican. There were some Mexican kids out there that were tougher than any adults Tal had known before. “I don’t know how to run it, and I don’t want to pay you for it,” he said, a broad smile on his face.
 

Tal took a deep breath and thought about what his father would do. “I can’t do that. We worked hard to get it together. You have to work for what you have. You can’t just have our stuff.”

Connor stood in the doorway, the colour drained from his face at the kid in his friend’s office.
 

“Come on, Tal. Let’s figure something out,” he said, shaking his head, his brow furrowed.
 

The big kid turned around. “You’re that actor guy’s kid. The one that was gay.”

Connor swallowed and moved to stand beside Tal. “Connor,” he said carefully, extending his hand.

“Theo,” the kid replied, hooking his arms around the back of the chair. He had tattoos. Crude ones.
 

The room went silent. Tal could feel his heart beating in his chest.

“Give us a day—”
 

“I don’t have a day. I want it when you have it, so it’s new.”

“Okay,” Connor nodded, his hand firmly planted on Tal’s shoulder. “Meet us here in four hours.”

Theo rose. “We all got mouths to feed. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

When Tal heard the main door shut, he and Connor both exhaled and Connor smacked his arm, hard.

“You almost got us killed,” Connor hissed. “You can’t run everything straight. Those kids aren’t me.”

“So we’re just supposed to give it to him because he’s bigger than us?” Tal laid his gun across his desk and raised his voice. “Because fuck that.”

“Maybe we don’t do that, but we work out a deal with them. Maybe we get something lesser in return, but we’re still alive. Don’t you want to be alive, Tal?”

He nodded, rolling his eyes, angry that it had come to that. He looked down and saw that his hands were still shaking.
 

Connor nodded and sat down across from him. “Okay then. Let’s work out a couple of options.”

“To give him our movies?” Tal scoffed. “Because if we do this once, we have to do it forever. Connor, this wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Sometimes, you have to make a new plan,” Connor grumbled. “Now, what do we need from them?”

September 2012

Montana

Lucy found the tobacco in a high cupboard, far out of reach of tiny hands and within minutes she’d rolled a cigarette with the machine that lived in the junk drawer. She gasped when the kitchen light switched on and Cara stood there in a frumpy housecoat, looking very much like the disappointed mother that Lucy hadn’t had the opportunity to know.

“You’re still doing that?” she said in a tone that, while irritating to Lucy, warmed her heart in a way.
 

“Sorry, Mom. Sometimes.” She nodded at the back door and Cara followed her out. “It’s been a hell of a week.”

“We were all so worried. Bull called us, and then Zoey did, and even Andrew. They thought maybe you’d end up here.”

“I tried, but we ran out of gas and money before we made it out of Missouri.” Lucy handed her the cigarette and Cara took a long drag, a look of ecstasy crossing her face. “I don’t think martyrdom is for me.”

Cara chuckled. “Good. You look like shit though, you know.”

Lucy’s hand instinctively went to the bruise below her left eye. “I’ve been avoiding mirrors.”

“You’re still beautiful. Don’t worry.” Cara shot her a wink. “I like your new friend. He did most of the dishes.”

Lucy’s mouth twitched into a smile. “He did?”

She nodded. “When we were putting the kids to bed. Did a good job too. He said he does them at his place.”

Leaning in, Lucy whispered. “He’s deliciously ordinary.”

“I think a lot of people used to be ordinary. Not much room for it now.”

“Maybe ordinary isn’t the right word.”

Cara looked up thoughtfully. “Old school?”

“Ha,” Lucy giggled. “That’s probably better.”

“He’s not what I expected from West. There hasn’t been one pyrotechnics show since he arrived, and his lines aren’t predictable and stunted.”

“He’s the numbers guy.”

Cara looked at her, deadpan. “They made the Jew the numbers guy. How cliché can you get?”

“I kissed him. Two nights ago when we were on shrooms. Or he kissed me, I guess,” she replied, recalling the circumstances.”

“Experimentation is perfectly healthy,” Cara joked, clasping her hands together. “Give little Zoey a run for her money. A taste of her own medicine, for all the—”

“It’s not a competition. I…I’m not with people like she is. I can’t be.” Lucy pushed the girl from a few nights earlier out of her head.
 

Seeing something she didn’t like in her friend’s eyes, Cara reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Say it.”

“I’m more than my experiences.” Lucy rolled her eyes, remembering their many counseling sessions. “I’m okay with not sleeping around. Look at all the kids you’ve had to take in as a consequence of that. And with a guy?” She scrunched her face up. “I…sorry. I don’t know. I can’t even think about it seriously.”

“It’s all a little absurd if you over think it, with a man or a woman.” Cara smiled. “Remember when there were all those kids that didn’t understand how it worked?”

Lucy snorted, thinking back on her friend giving what amounted to a basic anatomy lesson in the town hall when she was thirteen that had probably prevented a population boom in Campbell. “Yes. You straightened them all out.”

“Damn right, I did.” Cara nodded. “You know, you’re all right without Cole. I wasn’t sure how you’d be.”

“I’m not all right at all, and don’t talk about him like he’s—”

“You’re still walking and talking,” Cara explained, squeezing her hand. “That’s all I meant.”

“The nights are the hardest. I used to lay in bed sometimes and just knowing he was down the hall? It was everything. We worked so hard to stay together.” Lucy heard her voice crack. “I’ve woken up wrapped around Tal for the last few nights, except last night Bull was there, so—”

“So you wrapped yourself around him?” Cara raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Ce—”

“No, I didn’t. I stayed away from both of them, because I knew I’d never hear the end of it. Even in my sleep I knew that.”

“See, look how self-aware you are.” Her old friend leaned in and whispered in her ear. “You should sleep with him. Not Bull. Tal. Just to have the experience. Sometimes you meet someone that’s worth making an exception for in a big way.” Her eyes gleamed knowingly.
 

“Don’t make this about you. Us.” Lucy flashed back to the time they’d shared. “You know this is nothing like that.” It amazed her sometimes that they’d been able to remain friends. Cara had chewed her up and spit her out romantically. More than once.

Cara squeezed her shoulders. “I’m glad it happened, so I knew. You made me wonder. Look at you. You’re amazing. Why wouldn’t I wonder? It’s okay to wonder.”

“Why do you think I want to sleep with him?”

“Because you’d have to be blind not to see that something’s happened with you two. There’s something there.” She ran her hands through her hair and winked at Lucy. I know you, Ce. I know you better than anyone. Don’t forget that.”

“I think I trust him,” Lucy acknowledged. “I’m not sure I want that to mean I sleep with him. Maybe I need more people I can trust.”

“You always need more people you can trust. Fine. Maybe you shouldn’t sleep with him.”

“It’s unlikely that I’d just up and sleep with him. It would be very unlike me.”

“It’s great being with the right person, and I’m not just talking about sex. I just want you to have that.” A wistful expression fell across Lucy’s friend’s face. “I want you to be happy.”

“You don’t think Zoey’s the right person?” Lucy asked, although she already knew Cara’s answer.
 

“I think Zoey is undeserving of that title for a whole mess of reasons, but we’ve had this conversation.” Cara said dryly, as she stood. “On that note, I’m going to bed. You should too.”

“With Tal, I suppose.”

“I didn’t mean that. You look exhausted.” Lucy stood, and Cara’s lips brushed her cheek. “Night, Ce. Sleep late. My army of children will make you breakfast. You’re almost home, and then you have to go back to being you.”

Her friend’s understanding of her psyche freaked Lucy out sometimes.
 

Tal was curled up on the couch when she walked by, and she paused, her fingers lingering on the arm.

“Tal,” she whispered, and he rolled over and sat up, his hair a mess.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Come to bed with me. The kids get up early here, and you need it as much as I do.” She cleared her throat, realizing her words could be misleading. “To get a good night’s sleep, I mean. It’s a big bed.”

Tal sat up and pulled his shirt on. Lucy figured he slept in his pants in case he had any early morning visitors.

“I’m fine down here.”

“Then stay down here,” she whispered sharply. “I just thought I’d try and make things more comfortable for you.”

“Where’s Bull?”

“On the pull-out in the basement.” She raised her eyebrows, amused that Tal thought Bull was going to kill him at every turn. “Far, far away.”

“He seems like the punch-first-ask-questions-later type, is all.” Tal replied, once they were in the attic space that Cara and Paul set aside for adults, making it decidedly different from the rest of the house. Paul had a giant TV and an excessive DVD collection, and Cara had a writing desk. There was a Murphy bed, already pulled out from the wall and made. The entire space was spotless, free of stains, and full of nice things, scavenged from Paul’s various adventures through America when he was young. The photos were from later, when Cara had joined him, and they lined one wall; a series of landscapes, self-portraits, and tiny fascinating things that most people would have missed. The lady of the house had always had a good eye for photography.
 

Tal looked nervous as Lucy sat on the bed. This was no different from when they’d shared a bed days before, she told herself. It was nice that she asked him, she thought to herself, as he tugged his shirt off and climbed in on the side of the bed not occupied by her.

“When you’re young, you never think your actions are going to have consequences,” Lucy whispered. “If I’d known this would be the result, there’s a big part of me that would have just left my grandfather hanging up there a while longer, until someone else took the lead.”

The room was plunged into darkness as she turned the bedside lamp off.

“It’s hard to say what that would have changed, good or bad.”

“I know.”
 

Tal flinched as Lucy wrapped an arm around his waist and lay her head on his shoulder. Her hair rested against his face, and she focused on the rise and fall of his chest.

Things would change tomorrow. They’d become themselves again, and the rough friendship they’d begun to carve out wouldn’t mean the same things as it did that night. He’d have to deal with the mess he’d left behind, and she’d have to cope with a war she was goaded into. It wasn’t a place for fragile beginnings to flourish, not when, for all intents and purposes, they weren’t on the same side of anything.
 

She’d never felt closer to reaching out and touching the life she wished she was living, with a stranger she barely knew.
 

“What do you need?” he whispered against her dark hair. “Tell me.”

Lucy closed her eyes, her lashes brushing against his shoulder. “I want to hear about your family.”

It took him a minute to decide where to start, but once he started talking, she felt her tired body relax. “My parents met at law school out east. Dad was a year ahead, and his parents lived in California, so he came back and got a job while Mom was still at school. He said that year was when he stopped seeing time as a friend. I never understood what he meant by that until he was gone. Mom got pregnant with my oldest brother that year on a visit, so she wrote the bar exam sick as a dog. Dad never heard the end of that. By the time she was ready to move, she was too pregnant to fly, so he had to go across the country and get her in his car. He proposed when he got there, because he wasn’t sure he’d still be able to be as enthusiastic about it after spending a week in a car together, and he was never very good at hiding his feelings.”