Impossible Glamour (17 page)

“Hit me,” I said.

“Webber, man, it’s your mom.”

I shut my eyes and swallowed. These calls had become more infrequent with all the precautions I’d put in place at Mom’s house, and yet when I did get a call, the events were usually more severe.

“Hospital?”

“Just admitted.”

“Bad?”

“She knocked out Marisol’s front tooth.”

“Shit,” I said. “Mom’s memory has nothing on her right hook.” The joke fell flat even with me. Marisol had been Mom’s caretaker for the past five years. She was awesome. Like family. Family that was now missing a front tooth.

“Who took her?”

“Marisol,” Dick Munch said. “She still hasn’t gone to the dentist. Just booked her in. Told her you’d be on your way.”

“Damn skippy. On my way now.”

*

“Webber, it may be time to consider full residential care.”

My gut plunged. Not what I wanted to hear. Mom was sedated and restrained and completely zonked out in her hospital bed. What had once been this giant personality of a woman had shriveled into a tiny lady with no memory left of the life we’d shared.

Dr. Minkey stood beside me. Her eyes were warm, kind, her curly gray hair clipped close to her scalp. Her black skin was smooth, without a single line. Hard to believe that Dr. Minkey was pushing sixty.

She was exactly the right doctor for Mom, and she’d been helping me take care of her since the very first ER visit over a decade before.

“You know how I feel about residential care.”

I grasped Mom’s tiny hand in mine. She looked so peaceful. So calm. Hard to realize she could knock out Mayweather when she came to.

“This isn’t the first time she’s had a physical altercation.”

I turned toward the doc. “I thought we were past this. Isn’t the violent behavior supposed to end as her memories fade?”

I looked at Mom. She hadn’t remembered who I was in two years, seven months, and three days.

“Every patient is different. While the disease often has a similar path, each brain is so unique that it manifests in different ways with every patient. But yes, usually at this stage patients on a similar trajectory as your mother are no longer violent.”

“So what the heck is going on with Mom? She wants to fight featherweight?”

Dr. Minkey smiled. Another reason this doc was the right one for us. She got my gallows humor and never gave me a reproachful look when I cracked wise about Mom’s condition. That was how I coped. All I had in this world was Mom. We shared all the memories of my childhood, and now one of the people who had experienced every bit of my life remembered nothing.

A chill rushed down my spine.

Did my childhood even happen if I didn’t have a mom who remembered me? Too deep for me. I squeezed Mom’s hand and willed myself back from my metaphysical crisis.

“We’ll keep her overnight and I’ll assess her in the morning. Then let’s talk.” Dr. Minkey’s hand rested on my shoulder. “I know you don’t want her in a residential facility, but Webber, you do realize there may come a time when she can’t be cared for at home.”

I nodded. My head knew the facts, but my heart refused to listen. I’d hire more help. Move Mom into my house. Find a way. She’d always taken care of me, so I wasn’t about to abandon her.

“Thanks, Doc.”

“She’ll sleep through the night. You should go, and I’ll call you in the morning.”

I stood. “I’ll be here first thing.”

“Of course you will.” Doctor Minkey smiled. “You’re a good son, Webber. She did a great job raising you.”

I nodded. I’d trade everything I had in the world so that my mom could know it.

Ellen

“Daddy! You look awesome this evening.”

“Thanks, doll.”

One of the few perks of being a med student was that I worked in the same hospital where Daddy was recuperating.

A sickly-sweet smell slammed into my nose. A flower shop had exploded in Daddy’s room. A side effect of being one of the world’s biggest stars—when you’re sick lots of people sent you lots of things. A giant bouquet of balloons gently wafted in the far corner while a full-size cardboard cutout of Daddy in his starring role in
The Legend Returns
stood at the end of his bed.

“Your own picture of you?”

Daddy waved his hand. “The studio. Who knows why?”

I pecked him on the cheek. On his bedside table was a stack of five boxes of chocolates. Not just any chocolates, these were the supergood, superexpensive chocolates.

“Doll, that entire stack arrived today, and Doc says I can’t have them. Take what you want and then will you give the rest to the nurses? Or doctors? I don’t care what the hell you do with them, just get that stuff out of my room.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “Doesn’t sound good to me right now, but you know, I do love the sweet stuff.”

“I know exactly where to take the chocolate.” Nurses station and Housekeeping. They’d appreciate the confections most of all.

Daddy’s color was better today, and I knew from speaking to his nurses and his doctor that finally, finally after a week of ongoing complications, he was getting better and would be released soon.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Good,” I lied. I couldn’t possibly tell Daddy how horrible Kazowski had been to me since returning from spring break. How could I complain about anything in my life when Daddy lay in a hospital bed, barely better than when he arrived? Complications and a scary infection had set him way back and scared us all, including me.

“They tell me two more days.”

“That’s great, Daddy.” I reached behind him and pulled out one of his pillows to plump up. “That means maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow would be even better.”

The overhead light caused the whiskers on his face to glisten. Daddy looked old. Or maybe for the first time in my life, Daddy simply looked his age. Not larger than life. Not forever young. Not a giant screen god and living Legend, but a man who’d suffered a near-fatal heart attack.

“I found a nurse to come and stay with you when you’re released. I can be there nights, but during the day with school—”

Daddy held up his hand to halt my words. “Doll, your mama is going to come and stay with me.”

My chest tightened. I slowly returned the pillow behind Daddy’s back. “Mama?”

“Her idea, not mine. But I’m good with it. I like it when your mama spoils me. She’s going to stay at my house so we’re closer to my doctors.”

Why did it bother me that Mama was going to live in Daddy’s house with him? How strange. Wouldn’t most children want their parents to be a couple? Why didn’t I want that for Mama? Maybe because Daddy was a serial philanderer. While he might not want the bevy of bombshells right now, I couldn’t imagine Daddy becoming a one-woman man. The night his heart stopped, he’d been having sex with three women at once. Three. Seriously. I overheard Sterling discussing that night with Trick. A part of me felt dirty and sick when I thought about the things my father did with women. All the women were consenting adults… I just wished…what did I wish? I wished that he didn’t need all that sex all the time. I wished he had a hobby other than banging twentysomethings.

“Doll, I see the fear in your eyes.” He tilted his head. “I wouldn’t ever put your Mama in an uncomfortable situation.”

Ha! Right. Like being the secret mother of three of your children, your mistress, and the housekeeper for your family while your wife was still alive wasn’t uncomfortable. Nope. Not at all. Of course I didn’t say those words to Daddy. Saying them would open a whole bucket of pain.

“Right”—I scrubbed my hand along my arm—“I just…I don’t know. I assumed we’d hire a nurse to stay with you during the day and I’d be there at night and—”

“While I love you for thinking like that, you have school. Your studies. You already work too damn hard. I’m not putting my recovery on your shoulders too. For fuck’s sake, Ellen, you’re amazing, but cut yourself some slack. You can’t do it all.”

I wanted to believe that I
could
do it all. I could take care of everyone in my family and have the career I wanted, the parents I wanted, the siblings I wanted, the family I wanted…couldn’t I?

“So, doll, what’s this I hear about this Dr. Kazowski person?”

My fingers tingled and the blood drained from my face. Kazowski? How would Daddy know about Kazowski?

“Dr. Talbot came by to see me yesterday.”

“The dean?”

Daddy nodded. “We go back. You know I funded that new research lab at the med school.”

I scrunched my eyebrows. “No, I don’t think I
did
know that.”

“Don’t let that big brain of yours spin. I didn’t have a damn thing to do with your getting in to med school, although I would have built them a whole damn building if I needed to. Remember, you applied as a Delgado, not a Legend. Doll, it was all you and that brilliant brain of yours.” Daddy took a deep breath and settled his hands onto his chest. “Dean Talbot mentioned that Dr. Kazowski can be tough. Asked me if you’d said anything about her.”

“She is…tough.”

“But is she fair?” Daddy asked.

“Fair?”

“Right. Does she treat all of you the same? Expect the same things from all the students, work with each of you?”

“It’s medical school, not kindergarten. They’re supposed to make us tougher, not mollycoddle us and give us nap time.”

A smile spread across his face. “Doll, don’t make me laugh, okay? I found out yesterday when Dillon was here that laughing doesn’t feel too good right now.” He gently rubbed his chest.

Nope. Laughing wouldn’t feel too awesome for a while. Neither would anything else. Hopefully that would curtail any
adventures
while Mama stayed with Daddy.

“So Daddy, I wanted to know if you needed to—”

“Steve-o!” The voice barreled through the doorway before the man. Webber turned the corner into the room. His gaze landed on me. There was the heat that flared between us. Even after our conversation. Pheromones. Couldn’t escape the pituitary gland.

“Hey, Ellen.” Webber’s smile widened. He held a giant bouquet.

“Did you bring me more fucking flowers, Webber?” Daddy’s voice was sandpaper rough but held humor.

“Not me, Steve-o. Found these at the nurses station and offered to bring them down to you. They’re from Boom Boom Wong.”

“That bitch? I’m surprised she didn’t send me a bucket of fried chicken and a box of Cohibas.” Daddy shook his head. “Put them wherever you can find a spot.”

Webber’s gaze swept the room. “Looks like a florist threw up in your room. Jeez! Dude, you are totally keeping the Beverly Hills florists in business this week.” Webber slid past me and cleared a spot on the dresser for the red and white orchids. His eyes met mine, and again that warmth passed between us. I looked at Daddy He’d cocked one eyebrow and seemed keen on watching Webber and me.

“So, Steve, when you breaking out of this joint? Haven’t you spent enough time ogling the nurses?”

“Tomorrow.” Daddy reached for the cup on his tray table and both Webber and I walked toward his bed. We stopped beside each other. An awkwardness wrapped around us, that hot feeling we’d decided to ignore and right now were trying to pretend wasn’t happening.

“Go ahead,” Webber said and nodded toward the pitcher of water and the cup.

Daddy’s eyes were on me as I poured his water. “Thanks, doll.”

Daddy sipped his water and I settled into a chair on the far side of the room. Webber and Daddy discussed movies and scripts and Industry gossip that meant nothing to me.

Finally Webber turned from Daddy and said, “I’m out. Heading to get some dinner.” He cleared his throat. “Ellen you want to grab something to eat?”

Really? I hadn’t expected after our conversation that Webber and I would be grabbing meals. Of course this wasn’t a date, this was Daddy’s agent being nice while Daddy was in the hospital, wasn’t it?

“Ellen, you should go. You don’t eat enough. Let Webber buy you some dinner. For God’s sake, the bastard has taken enough of my money in commission he could take you to the French Laundry and still be in the black.”

“One of my favorites for sure, but Steve, my private jet is in the shop tonight.” Webber’s gaze landed on me.

My fingertips tingled.

“Afraid if you’re eating dinner with me, we’re not looking at anything quite that high-end.”

My stomach fluttered. I wanted to go to dinner with Webber, I really did, but wasn’t this exactly what we’d decided to avoid? Or was he trying to do what we’d discussed, treat each other like acquaintances. Friends.

“Uh…” I bit my bottom lip and Daddy cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, sure, we could grab something before I head home.” I grabbed the boxes of chocolate, walked to Daddy, and pressed my lips to his temple. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t be too tough on the nurses.”

“Tough? This guy is smooth with the nurses.” Webber wiggled his eyebrows. “Right, Steve? Super smooth.”

And there was the Webber we all knew. Making wildly inappropriate sex jokes to a seventy-plus man who was just six days out from a major cardiac event.

“Well don’t get too
smooth
, Daddy, okay? You need lots of rest. And nothing else.” I slid my gaze toward Webber and gave him a warning look.

He mock saluted. “She’s tough, Steve. You raised a tough one. Smart too. Damn, this girl could whip anyone I know with one half of her brain tied behind her back.”

“How does that even work, Webber?”

“I was trying to be clever. No-go, huh?”

“I’ll give you an A for effort.”

“Steve, I’ll see you later. Text, call, homing pigeon. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Daddy grasped my hand and pulled me closer. His gaze latched on me. “Dolly I love you. You know that, right?”

The intensity in his gaze startled me, fear as though he might not see me again and needed me to know how much he cared.

“I do, Daddy. I really, really do.”

He squeezed my hand.

“Now get some rest.”

Webber and I slipped into the hallway. I stopped at the nurses station and Housekeeping to drop off the candy, and then we turned toward the elevators.