Dollhouse (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Kamille

“I
don’t think your mom likes me very much,” Kamille told Chase. “She was giving off this weird vibe at the wedding shower.”

The two of them were at Cartier on Rodeo Drive, checking out wedding bands. Hank and the crew were in the background, filming. They were the only people in the luxurious store, which made Kamille feel like royalty. She and Chase had looked at dozens of bands so far. It was hard to choose, especially since Kamille kept getting distracted by a gorgeous emerald necklace and matching earrings in a nearby case.

Maybe for our first anniversary,
Kamille thought with a smile.

“No, babe, Mom
loves
you,” Chase reassured her. “She’s not always good at showing her feelings, that’s all.”

“Why, did she say something?”

“Yeah, she said we’re a great couple. And she can’t wait for lots and lots of grandchildren. Hey, check out this silver wedding band. Or is it platinum? What’s the difference, anyway?”

“Platinum is way more valuable. And lasting.
And
it matches the amazing engagement ring you gave me.” Kamille held up her left hand for him to see.

Chase took her hand in his and kissed each of her fingers tenderly. “Well, we’re definitely going for platinum, then. Besides, you deserve the best. Always.”

Kamille blushed. “You’re so sweet.”

“And you’re my princess. I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Kamille wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. In three weeks, they would be married. Mr. and Mrs. Chase Goodall. She couldn’t wait!

The wedding plans were proceeding on schedule. Both the ceremony and reception would be at a dreamy oceanside resort in Rancho Palos Verdes. The minister from her family’s church, Pastor Rodd, had agreed to marry them. Thanks to Courtney Powell, who was the world’s most talented, together wedding planner, everything was set: the RSVPs, the flowers, the decorations, the music, the vows . . . all of it. And of course, there was Kamille’s incredible Vera Wang dress. She had kept the design top secret, even from her mother. Courtney and Kass (and of course, Hank and the TV crew) were the only ones who had actually seen it so far.

It was going to be the happiest day of her life.

But first, she had to survive Chase’s bachelor party. Which was happening this weekend.

“So. You looking forward to your big boy bash?” Kamille asked him casually. She had no idea what insanity Chase’s friends had planned for him. Her own, relatively intimate bachelorette party was happening at the same time: a girls’ trip to a Palm Springs resort with Kass, Kyle, their mother, and Simone.

“Honestly? I’d rather spend the weekend with you. In bed. If you know what I mean.” Chase grinned.

Kamille gave him a look. She wished he wouldn’t talk like that to her in front of the cameras. “Uh-huh. So where’s the party going to be, anyway? Vegas? Or are you staying local?”

“No idea. Patrick and Dom and the other guys on the team have been planning it. And my brothers, too. Like, totally hush-hush stuff.”

“Okay, well . . . try not to get
too
crazy.”

“Babe, I’m already a married man as far as I’m concerned. I don’t need these rings to tell me what I already know.”

“What’s that?”

“That I’ve got the most beautiful, fantastic girl in the world all to myself, and I am never going to do anything to screw that up.
Ever
.”

“Really?”

“Really. You can trust me.”

Chase pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the lips. Kamille pressed her body against his, feeling his desire for her. They needed to go home. Immediately.

Besides, if she wore him out now, he would have nothing left over for any lap-dancing skanks he might encounter this weekend.

T
he bachelorette party was a disaster.

“Kat, you
must
see my surgeon, he’s a miracle worker!” Pippa Ashton-Gould lay back on the poolside chaise longue, sipping a pomegranate margarita and eyeing the Speedo-clad waiters in a not-subtle way. “My va-jay-jay lips were practically hanging down to my knees!” she went on. “And it’s not like I’ve had a dozen babies—just my darling Parker!
Anyhoo,
Dr. Marcelo cut off all that extra meat and now I’m as neat and trim as a virgin!” She spread her legs slightly and pushed the crotch part of her bikini bottoms to the side. “Here, let me show you what I’m—”

“No!”
Kamille, Kass, and Kyle all shouted at the same time.

“Well,
I
want to see!” Simone said. She was so drunk that she’d taken off her bikini top and was drawing smiley faces on her boobs with a tube of lipstick.

“I want to see, too!” Kat agreed. She was almost as drunk as Simone, which was truly horrifying. Kamille hadn’t seen her mother this wasted since that time several years ago when the three of them—Kat, Kamille, and Kass—had gone to a birthday party in Benedict Canyon. Kat drank too many cosmos, so Kass drove them all home via the twisty, windy canyon roads—but not before Kat threw up all over Kamille’s brand-new shearling coat, which she’d bought herself for five hundred dollars saved up from an entire year of babysitting. Kamille had sobbed her eyes out and screamed at Kat for being “gross.” Once they were home, Kat woke up Beau on the intercom (it was 3
A.M.
) and told him that there was vomit all over the car. He dutifully got out of bed and cleaned it up so the acid wouldn’t damage the interior.

Why
had Kamille thought it was a good idea to have a bachelorette party with family members?

At least the resort pool was relatively deserted at this late hour—just a few couples trying to enjoy some romantic time (and who kept shooting their little group dirty looks) and an older guy who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Simone’s bare boobs. (He was wearing a big, fat gold wedding ring; where was his wife?) Hank and the cameras were long gone. They had filmed all day—the fancy lunch, the lingerie gifts, the long afternoon of luxurious spa treatments—before driving back to L.A. Thank God. How embarrassing would that have been, seeing clips of Pippa blathering on about her labioplasty on the Life Network?

And why was Pippa even here? Kat had brought her along at the last minute, insisting that she needed
her
girlfriends at the party, too. “I’m sorry, Mommy, is this
your
bachelorette party?” Kamille had sniped at her. It was not a happy scene.

The party
really
hit rock bottom around midnight, when Pippa and Kat started teasing each other about their “double-decker bus” vaginas and having a contest to see whose was bigger by stuffing ice cubes into them. By the time Kamille left (or rather, ran out of there as fast as she could, pleading exhaustion), Kat was winning, with twelve cubes and counting. Kyle and Kass had excused themselves and gone up to their rooms long ago. Simone had disappeared, too, with the older, married guy who’d been checking out her boobs.

Hurrying through the ornate black-and-white Deco-style lobby, trying to delete the last few awful hours from her memory, Kamille reminded herself to return to the beautiful resort sometime with Chase so she could actually
enjoy
herself. Chase was at his bachelor party now, wherever it was. She wondered if he was having fun. As long as he wasn’t having
too
much fun . . . and as long as there weren’t too many slores there. Kamille clenched her fists and forced herself to exhale. He’d said she could trust him. She wanted to believe him. She
had
to.

Back in the room Kamille was sharing with Kass, Kamille found her sister snoring away in bed, her big belly protruding like a small island under the elegant down cover. Kamille took off her flip-flops and lay down beside her.

“Kassie!” she whispered. “Kassie, are you awake?”

Kass’s eyes flickered groggily. “Wha . . . ?” she mumbled.

“Oh, good, you’re awake! How are you? Weren’t Mommy and Pippa totally disgusting tonight?”

“Hmm.”

“I mean, do we really need to hear about Pippa’s droopy vag lips? And God, after you left, she was totally hitting on our waiter, who looked like he was about fourteen. Oh, and
God,
you wouldn’t believe it, she and Mommy started stuffing ice cubes up their—”

“Ew, shut up!” Kass lifted her head and glanced around. “What time is it, anyway?”

“I don’t know. One, one-thirty? Anyway, I wish this was a cozier bachelorette party—like, just you and me and Simone. We could have gone to Vegas or something. Hey, maybe we still could?”

“Me partying in Vegas, that’s hilarious,” Kass said sarcastically. “Besides, there’s no way in hell I’d spend an entire weekend with you and Simone. The only reason I came today was because Kyle and Mom were here, too.”

“I know Simone can be a bitch sometimes,” Kamille said. “And I know she can be kind of . . . um, nuts.” She thought about the peeing incident at Hyde. “But she’s a lot of fun! And she’s one of my oldest friends.”

“Whatever. I can’t stand being in the same room with her.”

“I know. But try to make an effort, okay? For the wedding?”

Kass didn’t reply. She gazed up at the ceiling and stroked her belly.

“Is he . . . kicking?” Kamille asked her curiously.

“Yes. What makes you think it’s a he?”

“You’re my sister. I know everything about you. Can I touch him?”

“I guess?”

Kamille placed her hand on Kass’s stomach. Nothing. Still nothing.

Then, all of a sudden . . .

“Ohmigod!”
Kamille cried out. It was the most amazing thing she had ever felt. A gentle rolling sensation, like waves undulating under Kass’s skin, followed by a pounding, pulsing kick. “There he is! Oh my God, it’s incredible! He’s doing jujitsu!”

“Actually, I’m kinda thinking
he
might be a
she,
” Kass admitted.

“Really?”

“Really. I had this dream that she was a girl.”

“Ohmigod, how cool is that?” Kamille nestled closer to Kass. “It’s all so miraculous. Isn’t it? All this? I mean, last year this time, we were just . . . I don’t know,
us.
And now you’re having a baby . . . and I’m getting married . . .”

“Yeah. Miraculous,” Kass said quietly.

Kamille reached for Kass’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Promise me something? That no matter what, and no matter how busy and crazy things get, we’ll still be sisters? And best friends?”

Kass squeezed Kamille’s hand back. “I promise,” she whispered. “But you have to promise, too. No matter what.”

“No matter what. I love you, doll.”

“I love you, too, doll.”

Kamille closed her eyes and felt herself melting into sleep, her head cradled against Kass’s shoulder. It was the most peaceful and contented she’d been in . . . forever.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Kass

T
he White Dove Inn was a zoo. Hank and his TV crew were everywhere, setting up the lights and cameras and other equipment. The caterers were rushing around with bottles of wine, buckets of ice, and numerous trays of whatever. The wedding planner, a terrifyingly efficient woman named Courtney Powell (whom Kass had met a couple of times before), was ordering around her team of cowering assistants on her hair-thin silver headset.

And speaking of doves, there was a cage of them somewhere, waiting to be released once Kamille and Chase declared “I do.” (That had been the network’s idea.)

It was a gray, foggy day. June gloom. That’s what SoCalers called the overcast weather that was typical for this time of year. Kass felt it inside, too, the gloom. She told herself to snap out of it, already; it was almost showtime, after all.

Standing in the first-floor parlor alone (Kamille had sent her to find a safety pin, and Kass had decided to take a brief mental health break, to collect her thoughts), she gazed outside of the window, at the first guests who were beginning to gather on the lawn. There was Kamille’s agent, Giles Sinclair, talking on his phone. (The guy was
always
on a call.) There was Pippa, dressed in a skintight minidress that came up almost to her crotch. (Well, at least she’d had that labioplasty procedure.) There were random Romeros and Fergusons, including some out-of-town cousins and aunts and uncles Kass hadn’t seen in forever.

And there was Chase’s mom (who seemed freaky and repressed, like a character out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie) and his sister, Amanda (ditto). Chase’s dad, next to them, was tall and broad-shouldered, a middle-aged version of his oldest son. He had been at the rehearsal dinner last night, telling a bunch of jokes about brides on their wedding night and consuming an alarming amount of alcohol without ever appearing to be drunk.

It occurred to Kass, not for the first time, that Mr. and Mrs. Goodall were Annabella’s biological grandparents. Not that they would ever know it, but still. Kass adored her own grandparents, the Romeros and the Fergusons (and also Beau’s parents, who had flown out from New Orleans for the wedding). Her relationship with all of her grandparents had always been so important to her. It was sad, thinking that Annabella would have only Kat and Beau.

Kass also prayed that whatever crazy, alcoholic, or other bad genes the Goodalls possessed would not show up in Annabella’s perfect little brain and body.

As for Chase . . . well, Kass had come
this close
to telling Kamille the truth about the baby. Several times, in fact, ever since she’d had that talk with Kyle after the Lamaze class.

But she hadn’t been able to go through with it. She loved Kamille too much. Kamille seemed incredibly happy with Chase lately, far less of the dysfunctional drama-queen girlfriend than she used to be.

And Chase seemed to have cleaned up his act? Maybe? The same weekend that Kamille had her bachelorette party in Palm Springs, Chase had apparently (and very publicly) left his party in Vegas
early,
declaring that his bachelor days were behind him. The press was all over that one, saying that he had been “reformed” by “true love” or whatever.

Kass wasn’t sure how long the media honeymoon was going to last. More important, she wasn’t sure if Chase’s changed-man act was for real—or permanent.

But whatever the case, Kamille deserved a chance with him. And today, she deserved to enjoy the dream wedding that she had waited for so long.

Kass’s cell buzzed. It was a text from Kamille.

KASSIE WHERE R U???? DID U FIND A SAFETY PIN???? COME BACK TO THE ROOM I NEED U TO HELP ME WITH MY DRESS!!!!

Kass sighed and tucked her cell into her bag. She left the parlor and headed down the hall.

She ran into Kat outside the dining room, looking lovely in her royal-blue mother-of-the-bride dress. (She’d bought six different mother-of-the-bride dresses and finally settled on this one, this morning.) She was giving one of the caterers a hard time about the passed hors d’oeuvres. “I don’t care what Courtney told you! The beef absolutely
has
to be medium rare, and it absolutely
has
to be served at room temperature!” she was saying in her scary don’t-fuck-with-me voice.

Kat paused and waved to Kass. “Hey, honey, you need anything?” she said sweetly, suddenly switching to Helpful Mom mode.

“I’m good, Mom, thanks. I’m heading up to see Kamille. Hey, do you know where Bree is? I need to go over her flower-girl routine with her one more time.”

“I think she and Kyle are up there with Kamille.”

“ ’Kay, thanks.”

Kass proceeded down the hall toward the staircase. The girls’ dressing room (for Kamille, Kass, Kyle, Bree, and Simone) was on the second floor; the boys’ (for Chase, Benjy, Beau, and Chase’s brothers, Zach and Justin) was on the ground floor. Kamille had been fanatical about Chase not seeing her before the ceremony. She had been equally fanatical about having only her bridal party see her dress. Not even Kat knew what it looked like.

Kass’s own dress, she had to admit, was pretty perfect. Kamille had insisted on a pale pink gossamer silk, which complemented Kass’s light brown hair and hazel eyes, and the Empire waist, which made her enormous belly look . . . well, not so enormous. Kass had even agreed to an updo and full makeup for the occasion. It
was
kind of nice feeling so put-together—glamorous, even—after so many months of self-induced, pregnant-girl frumpiness.

As Kass neared the stairs, she could hear violins warming up from somewhere in the inn, playing the opening strains of Pachelbel’s Canon. The ceremony would be starting in less than an hour.

And soon after that, Kamille would become Mrs. Chase Goodall.

“Cut it out! Someone’s gonna see us!”

Kass stopped in her tracks. The giddy female voice was coming from somewhere nearby.

“Yeah, but check out this bad boy. What am I supposed to do with that? Huh?” a guy replied teasingly.

“Hold it in your pants till afterward. Maybe during the reception?”

Kass frowned.
What the hell?

She backed up, slowly, quietly. She realized that the voices were coming from the coat-check room.

She craned her neck and peered inside the dimly lit space . . .

. . . and saw Chase leaning against the wall, running his soon-to-be-married hands all over Simone’s Pilates-toned butt.

Kass clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

And then she turned and made her escape, before the world’s most duplicitous asshole (correction: world’s most duplicitous assholes,
plural)
noticed her.

“K
am, I have to talk to you.
Right now
.”

“What?” Kamille turned around and held up two pairs of earrings. “Kassie, do you think I should wear Grandma Romero’s pearl ones? Or Grandma Ferguson’s sapphire ones? I need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue, right? So if I wear the sapphire ones, I can knock off the old, borrowed,
and
blue at the same time. God, this is complicated!”

“Kassie, where’ve you been? Do you like my hair? Ky let me borrow her straightening-er!” Bree squealed happily.

Bree looked adorable in her rose-colored flower-girl dress. Kyle looked pretty, too, in her pale pink bridesmaid’s dress. Kass wished they could all sit around admiring one another’s dresses and hair and makeup and enjoying this fun, special, girlie time. But unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Kyle and Bree, can you excuse Kamille and me for a moment? We need some privacy,” Kass said tersely.

“Why, so you can give her some advice about her wedding night?” Kyle joked. “I think Chase’s dad already covered that at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Huh?” Bree looked confused. “What are you guys
talking
about?”

Kass clenched her fists. “Please. Kyle, just two minutes. Can you take Bree and get a soda or something?”

“Fine!” Kyle took Bree’s arm and led her out into the hall. “Normally, Brie Cheese, I’d say that someone’s plugging right now. Except we all know that Kass can’t be plugging . . .”

“Huh?”

Once they were gone, Kamille lit into Kass. “You
know
Bree and Kyle can’t eat or drink anything with their dresses on! They might get a stain! Besides, what’s so important that it can’t wait? Did you get my safety pin? Plus, I really, really need your help with this damned zipper, I think it’s—”

“You can’t marry Chase,” Kass cut in.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Seriously, this zipper is driving me insane.”

“I just caught him making out with Simone. In the coat-check room. Kam, I’m so sorry, but he’s a cheater, and he always will be.”

Kamille’s jaw dropped. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna take a deep breath and forget you ever said that.”

“Kamille—”

“Actually, no! I’m
not
gonna forget you ever said that. You need to hear the truth!”

“No! You don’t under—”

“Shut up, I’m talking! You’ve always been jealous of me, haven’t you? And now it’s worse than ever because I have this incredible, amazing modeling career that’s gonna make me superfamous, and this incredible, amazing fiancé who’s about to become my husband, who’s
already
superfamous. And you? You’re fat and pregnant and you don’t have a husband . . . or a boyfriend, even. And at the rate you’re going, you’re probably never
gonna
have a boyfriend or a husband. Well, I’m sorry if your life sucks! I’m sorry you’re alone! But it’s not my fault, and it’s completely psychotic of you to make up shit about Simone, who you’ve always hated, and Chase, just so you can feel better about—”

“Chase is the baby’s father,” Kass blurted out.

Dead silence.

“Did you hear me, Kam? I’m so, so sorry, but Chase is the baby’s father. Back in November? That night you broke the martini pitcher or whatever? See, I, uh, got insanely drunk on tequila because I’d had this fight with Eduardo.” Kass decided not to throw Kyle under the bus about the tequila part; otherwise their mother might lock her up and throw away the key. “And I came home to our house, and Chase was there,” she went on. “I think he was drunk, too. I didn’t even know what was happening; I thought he was Eduardo, that’s how out of it I was. Anyway, we, uh . . . you know . . . and then, on Christmas day, I did a home pregnancy test and—”

Kamille crossed the distance between her and Kass in two quick strides and slapped her, hard.

“Ow!”
Kass cried out. “What’d you do that for?”

“For being a fucking
liar
! And a
witch
! How
dare
you make up this psychotic story about Chase?”

Kass touched her cheek. It stung like hell. “Why would I make up something like that, Kam? I’ve been tearing myself up inside wondering if I should tell you or not. I didn’t want to hurt you. But after I saw him downstairs with . . . anyway, I had to tell you, before it was too late.”

“You’re
deranged
! I’m telling Mommy and Beau; they’re gonna throw your lying, psychotic ass into a
mental
institution!”

The door creaked open ever so slightly. Suddenly Kass realized that they were not alone.

A TV cameraman was standing in the doorway, filming.

“Get the hell
out
of here!” Kamille screamed at him. “This is private! Don’t you vultures have anything better to do?”

The door opened wider. The cameraman stepped aside, and Simone walked in, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “Yo, bitches! What’d I miss? Sounds like someone needs a Valium,” she called out cheerfully. “Hey, I saw a bunch of photographers outside. What do you say we go out there and give them some crotch shots?” She giggled.

Kass glanced quickly at Kamille. Kamille fake-smiled at Simone. “Kassie was telling me that she just saw you and Chase downstairs,” she said coldly.

Simone blinked. “I don’t think so. I’ve been out back for the last half hour, um, smoking a cigarette with your sister Kyle.”

Kass gasped at the lie. Kamille turned away for a second. Then her face grew hard with fury, and she slapped Simone, too.

Simone began crying. “What the
fuck,
Kamille?” she whimpered.

“I never want to see either of you two sorry bitches ever again,” Kamille announced.

And then she stormed out the door, shoving the cameraman aside roughly, and disappeared down the hall in a cloud of ivory silk.