Harder We Fade (17 page)

Max’s agent, Lyle, called one afternoon when I was shopping in Beverly Hills.

“How’s little Max doing?” he asked.

“We’re not going to find out the gender, but he or she is doing just fine. Thanks for asking. How are things with you? Signed that kid from the boy band yet?”

“Don’t get me started,” he said. “His music agent has him thinking he can do it all himself.”

“Oh, big mistake. They’re going to need your magic.”

“No shit. The thing that pisses me off is that they’ll give it a go and this music agent will fall flat on his face, and they’ll probably end up signing with someone else just so they don’t have to come crawling back to me.”

“That sucks.”

“And the thing is, I don’t even care. I won’t rub it in their faces. At least not directly. Anyway, are you in the office?”

“No,” I said, flipping through some shirts on a rack. “I’m looking for clothes that fit a pregnant woman, but are comfortable and also don’t scream ‘I’m pregnant!’ to the world.”

Lyle didn’t miss a beat. “Well, can’t help you there. Sorry.”

“I know. What’s up?”

“How’s ‘Disputed’ coming along?”

That’s what we’d started calling the movie. “Disputed” instead of the full title, “A Disputed Life.”

“On schedule and rolling right along,” I said. “Budget’s a little tight, though. Are you calling to pitch in?”

He laughed. “Nice try.”

“I’m kidding anyway.”

“Listen, I need to know if this thing’s gonna be done in time for Sundance.”

“Absolutely,” I said, even though I had no idea if that was true.

“Great. So we’re in.”

“We are? What about the submission process?”

“Leave that to me,” Lyle said.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. I’m cashing in a favor. A big one. ‘Disputed’ is in Sundance. Done deal. How’s that for agent magic?”

Max and I were out by the pool later that evening, watching a sunset that was so gorgeous it almost looked like it was fake, like so many of the ones in movies that I was now able to immediately identify as being CGI instead of real.

“Did he tell you what the favor was?” Max asked.

“No, just that it was a big one.”

“I’ll say. Well, we’re on schedule and, yeah, it’ll be ready.”

I was happy to hear him say that, after promising Lyle earlier that the scheduling would be no problem and that ‘Disputed’ would be ready by Sundance, even thought I only had a slight degree of confidence that it would be. But I also knew Max would have made it work, somehow.

We were sitting on one lounge chair. I was lying between his legs, with my back against his chest, using his shoulder as a head-rest.

Max held a drink in one hand. His other arm hugged my left side, and he had his palm flat on my tummy, which was now showing more and more each day. At least it looked that way to me. In any case, I was no longer freaking out about it, and actually felt more confident. Especially with Max, of course, who had lifted the hem of my shirt so his hand was against the skin on my belly, giving warmth both literally and figuratively.

“Now that we’ve got the good news out of the way,” I said, “I think we need to talk about something serious.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“For what? You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I do, Liv. And I don’t want to talk to my mother yet. Not about the baby, not about anything.”

I shifted around in the chair so I was facing him. He looked surprised in return.

“Max, how long are we going to wait? I know I was the one who said we had to wait a while, but everything’s good now. Every single doctor visit — ”

“I know, I’ve been there for all of them.”

I reached out and put my hand on his chest. “I know you have. I’m just saying that there’s no reason to wait anymore. My parents aren’t happy about us getting married, and I know for damn sure they’re going to freak about the baby. And what are you going to do? Keep it from your mom? Forever?” I shook my head. “Max, we just have to let them know. Getting married is one thing, but the baby…that changes it all.”

“Does it?”

I cocked my head to the side, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Yes, it does. It really does.”

His eyes had been locked on mine as we spoke, but after my last comment he looked away. First to his right, then to his left, then finally settling on the ocean and the sunset just over my shoulder.

I didn’t want to say anything. I’d already said enough. I wanted to hear what he said after processing it, something I knew he was doing intensely because he moved his hand up toward his face, putting his thumb on his chin and rubbed it. It wasn’t what I’d call a nervous tic, but more like one of those involuntary things people do when they’re in deep thought and don’t even realize what they’re doing.

Long seconds passed, but I kept my gaze trained on his face. Watching him think. Observing him working it out for himself.

He finally spoke: “I want to marry you tomorrow.”

Max looked at me, waiting for me to respond, but I didn’t have a coherent thought beyond the word: “What?”

He sat forward, getting closer to me. He put his hand on the side of my face and brushed my hair off my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.

There was something in his eyes — not lust, like I was used to seeing in moments like this, but a deeply longing look. It was something I’d heard people say, and knew what it meant, but never really knew what it looked like until that moment.

“I love you, Liv. Nothing, and nobody, is going to stand in the way of us. I don’t care who they are. I know you want and deserve a huge wedding — ”

I shook my head rapidly. “No, I don’t want that. I never did.”

“You can have whatever you want,” he said. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll make your dream wedding come true. But think about hopping on a plane with me tomorrow, or tonight…yes, tonight…and it’ll be just the two of us. No worries about anything or anyone else.”

“This is crazy,” I said.

“It is.”

I shook my head slowly and saw the expression on his face change. He probably thought I was going to say no. But I reached my arms out and lunged for him, holding him tight.

“Okay,” I said, choking back tears of happiness. “Yes.”

Max made a few phone calls and by 10 pm we were on his plane, heading for Napa. We had gone back and forth, tossing around ideas about where to get married, and finally decided on Napa because Max loved it so much that’s where he had taken me on our first trip together.

We stayed in the same bungalow as the first time. The next morning we got our marriage certificate and by noon we were standing in the middle of an orchard with two other people — the officiant and our witness, an old friend of Max’s from his studio days who owned the bungalow we rented.

It was an understated event, just as we wanted, except for the fact that I did end up wearing a white gown — the same one I had worn to the Oscars. Max wore a new suit.

We decided to have the officiant say very little, other than the required questions asking us to declare that we took each other as husband and wife.

The majority of the ceremony was our vows, which were written on the fly. I didn’t know how mine would come across, but I managed to stop fretting over the words. I kept writing and rewriting, but the same things kept coming to mind, so I decided to stick with my original version and hope that it was enough, and that my face might say more than the words with Max looking at me.

When it came time for the vows, I went first: “Max, my love…You inspire me every day. When I came to California, I had big dreams but I had no idea that
you
would be my dream come true. Just last year I would have never known I would meet you, and now I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to show, but I look forward to many decades trying.”

Max’s vow to me was: “I’m standing here today because of a spontaneous decision we made just last night, but marrying you was just a matter of time. Since I first saw you last year, I had no doubt you were going to be not just my wife, but my
life
. Until I take my last breath on this planet, I promise with everything I’m worth as a man that you will be my number one priority for the rest of time. I will drop anything and everything for you.” He kept his eyes trained on mine, but he reached down and touched my belly. “And for our children. I love my life again because of you. I love
our
life. I love you. This is the one and only truth that matters…You. Me. Forever, Liv.”

I could no longer make out his face through the blur of the tears that pooled in my eyes. I knew he loved me — he told me all the time, and showed me in so many ways — but having him make that beautiful pledge to me was everything I could have wanted to hear because I knew Max was the type of man that would live up to his words.

I worked mostly from home for the last couple of months of my pregnancy, when I was really starting to show. It wasn’t that I was trying to hide it from anyone, but rather, Max didn’t want the baby around all the hustle and bustle of a movie set because, as he put it, “It can be stressful.”

“So you don’t want the baby stressed.”

“Right.”

“What about me?” I said, feigning being upset, but Max saw right through me and knew I was being playful.

“You,” he said, “make enough money to handle the stress. Plus, you need to rest up because when we’re finished shooting and after the baby comes, I’m taking you on the most amazing honeymoon you could imagine.” And with those words he kissed me and left for work for the day.

I thought he was being a bit dramatic about the whole thing, but I can’t deny there were days when I looked forward to staying home and having the whole place to myself. It was kind of nice, too, when I’d see Max after a long day of being away from him.

Monica and Loralei organized my only baby shower, and it was just the three of us. And it was perfect. I had really grown close to them over the last several months. It was nice to have real girlfriends again.

At our little shower, Monica asked how long I was going to keep it from my parents.

“I’ll tell them after it happens,” I said. “I don’t want to deal with all of that while I’m pregnant.”

“Plus,” Loralei added, “maybe they’ll be so happy to be grandparents they’ll just let it go.”

“Doubtful,” I said, folding up a jumper Monica had given me for the baby. “Plus, I hate the idea of using the baby as a buffer in my relationship with them.”

“Oh, sorry,” Loralei said.

“It’s fine.”

The subject quickly turned to other things, and we sat on Monica’s deck, eating cake and enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Max came home from shooting the film one evening and said Anthony and Carl had been giving him a hard time about not having a bachelor party.

“So have one,” I said. I was sitting just outside the den on the patio. I had my iPad with me and I was out there watching episodes of Dexter online. I had paused the show and was watching Max at the bar, as he made a White Russian, and he looked up at me when I said it.

“What?” I said.

“You’re encouraging me to have a bachelor party. You do know what goes on at bachelor parties, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Drinking, strippers…”

He walked over and sat down next to me. “And you’re okay with that.”

I shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like you’re going to fuck them. Plus, maybe they’ll get you all worked up and you can come home and fuck me.”

Max swallowed the sip of his drink and let out a little laugh. “I don’t need strippers to prime me in order to fuck you, Olivia.”

“What if I said you could bring one home and we could have a threesome with her?”

Without hesitating, he said, “I’d say you were asking me a trick question. Good try.”

“Good
answer
,” I said, moving over to his chair and cuddling up next to him.

Max’s mother called me late one morning and said she needed to talk.

I resented being put in this position, and certainly didn’t need the pressure.

“Paula, just like I said last time, I can’t keep anything you say from Max.”

“I know, honey,” she said. She’d never called me that, and I wondered if it was an honest outpouring of affection or if she was trying to get on my good side before she broke some even worse news than what she’d told me before.

“Maybe it’s not a good idea at all,” I said.

“I really need to talk. Are you home?”

“Yes.”

“I’m in the driveway.”

Shit!

So much for keeping the pregnancy from her. I ran through all my alternatives, and none of them were good.

I suppose I could have been firm and told her that it wasn’t a good idea for her to be at the house until she talked to Max, but I would still need to do that face to face. Telling her over the phone or through the intercom speaker at the front door would have raised all kinds of new weirdness.

I could have called Max and asked him what he thought I should do, but he was busy, deep into the shooting of the movie, and there was no way I was going to add this to his to-do list.

“You’re here?” I asked, for no other reason than to stall for time.

“Yes, can I please come in? Or could we talk on the front porch, at least? This is really important. I took a chance just stopping by. I wasn’t even sure you were home but I see your car. Why are you home, anyway?”

This was my chance to get out of revealing the fact that I was pregnant, and somehow — pure luck, I suppose — the answer came to me.

“I sprained my ankle.”

“Oh, no. Is it bad?”

“Yeah,” I said, making my way to the front door, unlocking it and heading quickly to the kitchen. As quietly as I could, I put a bunch of ice cubes in a plastic bag, wrapped it in a towel, then made my way to the couch. I reclined, putting my leg up, with the towel-covered bag of ice draped over it. Then I bunched up a blanket, put it over my belly, then added a throw pillow for more bulk, and rested my hand on it. It must have looked ridiculous, but it was the only thing I could come up with on the spot.

“Do you need anything?” she asked.

I sighed. “Just come on in. The door’s unlocked.”

Then I remembered the wedding ring, and slipped it off, placing it under a pile of scripts on the coffee table.

“You leave your door unlocked when Max isn’t here?”

“No, I just unlocked it for you and had to get back to the couch.”

A couple of minutes later, she was standing in front of me, eyeing my wrapped ankle and insisting that I let her make me lunch.

“It’s fine, really,” I said. I hated being deceptive with her, but I really had no choice. I couldn’t go behind Max’s back and let his mother know that she was about to be a grandmother. That was up to Max, on his terms, on his own timing.

It was uncomfortable seeing her again, and I know she felt the same way toward me. I wanted this to be over with as quickly as possible, so I told her I was waiting on an important phone call and that I’d probably be tied up for the better part of an hour once the call came in.

“Okay,” she said, “I understand. I know you two are very busy. Max is probably lost without you on the set.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

She fidgeted for a moment, then said directly: “I told Max’s father I couldn’t speak with him anymore.”

Now, that I was not expecting. I had been sure she was going to try to get me to talk to Max, soften him up, and help her get him to understand. But this was a much welcome turn of events.

I almost moved enough to dislodge the blanket and pillow covering my baby bump, but I managed to control myself. “Really,” I said flatly, almost shocked.

She nodded. “I think what happened was…” She began to tear up, but I couldn’t move toward her to comfort her. “Sorry,” she said, regaining her composure. “I think I wanted normalcy in my life again, and for a long time that’s what he was for me. But that longing for nostalgia wore off. It’s actually been several weeks. It was just now that I decided to eat crow and come over here.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed, Paula. I’m just glad you came over and told me. You should talk to Max as soon as possible.” I was thinking it would be great for the two of them to smooth things over, but also I was thinking about my pregnancy and the fact that all of this secrecy was getting ridiculous. “Call him, please?”

“Will you let him know I’m calling, and why? I doubt he’ll answer his phone.”

“He’ll answer your call,” I said. “He always would have and always will.”

Max got home around midnight later that night, after seeing Paula. I was sitting in the den watching a documentary about earthquakes when he walked in.

“I can’t believe I haven’t experienced one since I moved here,” I said.

Max collapsed on the couch next to me. “You have.”

“That was a tiny one. You said so yourself.”

He was talking about a minor quake that happened one afternoon when we were leaving The Ivy, a restaurant in Beverly Hills. The ground didn’t quite shake, it was more like a quick vibration, and I initially thought it was construction related.

“Trust me,” Max was saying as I turned off the TV, “you don’t want to feel a big one.” And as soon as he said it, his eyebrows rose. “Or…do you?” He leaned over and kissed me on the lips.

“Later,” I said. “You’re not getting any action until you tell me how it went.”

And so he told me that after his mother called, they agreed to meet at a restaurant not far from her house. Max suggested it, thinking that it might be better to meet in public to keep the emotions in check.

Paula told him everything right off the bat, including the explanation that she had shared with me. He said the conversation about his father was short. They didn’t dwell on it. Paula wanted to know everything that Max had been up to while they weren’t speaking, and told him even though it was a relatively short time, she felt like she hadn’t spoken with him in years.

Max brought her up to speed on the movie, and all things related to his professional life.

Luckily for him, I had reminded him to take off his wedding band before seeing Paula. So he didn’t reveal the fact that he was married.

“I didn’t ask her anything about my father,” he said. “I don’t care and I don’t want to know. And most of all, I don’t want him to ever have anything to do with our children. I won’t let that happen.”

There was an anger in his eyes, but it quickly receded when I placed my hand on his head and combed my fingers through his hair, comforting him.

And he certainly didn’t say anything to Paula about the pregnancy.

“I think we should tell her together,” he said.

“That would be great. I would say give it as much time as you want, but we’re kind of on a schedule here that I can’t control.”

Max smiled. “Good to know you have a normal human gestation period.”

We lay together in silence for a few moments until I said, “Max, how are we going to handle all of this?”

That’s when he told me his plan.