Mommy, May I? (6 page)

“No kidding. She hasn’t gotten over her first love affair.” Helena raised her eyebrows. “By which I mean herself, dear.”

“You’re right about that,” she laughed.

“So what did the kid say?”

“She told the woman to leave her alone, then hung up on her.” Helena nodded in satisfaction and smiled as she sipped her coffee.

“Like mother, like daughter. When do I get to meet this kid, anyway?”

“Hopefully on Saturday you’ll get your chance. She’s great. I’m trying to convince her to come to the meeting, since it’s my anniversary. I thought maybe we could grab a bite, too. I’d love to make a day of it with her and take her over to Shea House and the Sober Living House. I want her to meet some of the girls.”

“Oh.” Tim clapped. “That sounds delightful. Plan it! But about this thing with the ex-step mommy, why are you so worried about her phone call? It sounds like the kid handled the Wicked Witch just fine. And the fact that she called you and clued you in is also another positive in your court.” He leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs.

“Maybe so, but it still disturbs Frankie. Her therapy gets setback every time someone brings up this scandal. Frankie feels betrayed by everyone she’s loved. She truly doesn’t know who she can trust and who really loves her. Last week, she called me “Mom” for the first time. We’ve really been getting closer, and I don’t want anything to ruin that. But after Leeza’s meddling phone call, I don’t know what’ll happen. I also have to wonder what Leeza is up to. It’s not innocent, you know. Like I told you the other night, I don’t need any more ugly press.” Helena reached for her pack of cigarettes on the desk, then set them back without taking one out. “If Leeza starts mixing it up, Frankie might end up hating me all over again. She might change her mind about wanting a relationship with me. She’s still coping with the fact that I gave her to Patrick and Leeza when she was a baby. She thinks that I never wanted her, which isn’t true. She knows Leeza never wanted her. I wish Dad were still alive; he knew what she meant to me. He knew how much it hurt to give her up.”

Helena picked up the silver frame with her dad’s photograph inside. It was one of him fishing down at the lake they went to every summer when she was a kid. She was seven in that picture. Her mother had already passed on from an undetected case of ovarian cancer.

“You’re truly sounding ridiculous now. It’s nothing fifteen years of therapy won’t cure.” He laughed at his own joke.

Helena frowned. She knew Tim was joking, but the reality was that Frankie would need a lot of counseling. Frankie was strong, and Helena hoped, through her love along with Patrick’s, that her daughter would heal in time. However, she wasn’t going to kid herself. She knew how long it took to heal deep, emotional wounds.

“Helena, you’re wonderful, and anyone would be lucky to have you for a mother. Look how far you’ve come. Look at the way the girls at the center look up to you. My God, you’re like the Virgin Mother herself over there.”

“Hardly, and the fact is that Frankie really is my daughter, and she certainly doesn’t see me that way.” Helena choked back her tears, reaching for her coffee again.

“Don’t let this little incident set you back. Take charge.” Helena nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. “Now, what you ought to do is go see your daughter. Do some damage control. Don’t assume the worst. Take the train up today after work. I’ll go by and feed the pup while you’re away. I’m sure the kids at the center will understand if you can’t make it over for an afternoon. They’ve got plenty of support there. You know that.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“The best advice in town.”

“No shit! Stop paying that shrink so much and give me a raise instead. I do a much better job.”

“I’ll talk to personnel about that,” she said with a wink. They both knew that personnel consisted of Tim, a payroll manager, a handful of scouts, and herself.

“Ha! Funny. Well, I’d love to stay and chat all day about your dysfunctional life, but I have to call the studio to make sure the girls got there. And the cattle are already out there, waiting to be called in.”

“Oh, God! I dread the first Wednesday of every month.” It was the day they held their monthly open call for fresh faces. It also typically became the longest day of the month, with hundreds of young men and women waiting to be seen, hoping for their big break.

“I know, lovey. The go-sees you get to look over are tons of fun. But maybe you’ll find a good one today. There’s a nice-looking young man cooling his heels out there. He may not be your type, but
I
wouldn’t mind having coffee with him.”

“Yeah, well, remember who loved you first, baby. Listen. Will you weed them down to thirty? You know what I’m looking for. I’m checking out early, taking your advice about that damage control.”

“Now you’re using that noggin. I’ll pick the best prospects and send the rest packing. Do you want me to take care of Ella for the night?”

“I’ll go home first and feed her, and I’ve got to run by Shea House and meet with the plumber. Besides, I also need to ask Patrick if it’s convenient for me to go up there today. If it is, I’ll drive up, then come back after dinner.” She sat twirling her pen between her fingers.

“Sounds like a mighty late night. I don’t think you should be driving back in the wee hours.” He stuck his hands on his hips.

He reminded her of a mother hen. “Always the worrier. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be intrusive, so I won’t stay late. Remember, Frankie is supposed to come down to LA this Friday anyway.”

“Be careful driving.”

“I will.” Helena watched Tim leave, shutting the door behind him. He’d been a godsend after her assistant Brianne had left so abruptly while Helena was at The Betty Ford Center. It bothered her for a long time that Brianne had never contacted her. But Helena had spiraled out of control during that time and been pretty horrible to everyone around her just before she’d checked herself into rehab. It was a miracle that she’d been able to pull her business back together. If not for Tim, she couldn’t have done it.

Focused on the business at hand, Helena finished quicker than she’d expected. However, before she went home she decided to make one stop first—one she wasn’t eager to make, but felt was necessary.

****

Helena pushed the buzzer six or seven times before she heard high heels clatter against marble.

“Guess it’s the maid’s day off,” she muttered as the front door opened. Leeza Kiley stood there in all her steely, redheaded glory, an ironic smile flickering across her face.

“Greetings, neighbor,” Leeza snorted. Once the divorce was final and she’d sold the house she’d shared with Patrick for so many years, she moved to this house, only a mile or so from Helena.

Leeza shook her head and tsk tsked while giving Helena the once-over. “So what’s your story? If you have a bone to pick, why didn’t you do that, oh, say, a year ago, when the celebrity story of the century broke?”

“Wasn’t worth my time.”

Leeza swung open the door. “Okay, what’s worth your time now then?” she asked, raising her perfectly waxed, eyebrows into a curious arch.

“My daughter.”

“Ah, I see. You two must be getting pretty tight. That’s great, but I really don’t have time for chitchat, much less a reunion with the woman who stole everything from me. How am I cramping your style this time?”

“It’s not about me, Leeza.”

“It never is. You can steal a woman’s husband before you’re even eighteen like a jail bait Lolita, have his baby, toss her aside, go on to become queen of the world, make a million bucks, fall flat on your alcoholic ass, and then become Joan of Arc by coming clean about your past and starting some center for crack whores with kids. No, Helena, it is certainly never about you.”

Helena considered walking away, knowing that the conversation was already out of hand. But this was about her child, the one she’d betrayed in so many ways. After all these years, she could finally protect her and owed her that much. “Wow, that was quick. You must have been practicing in front of the mirror! But I have to tell you, you’re paying way too much for those acting lessons. Might want to get a new coach. You haven’t changed a bit. Still playing the same aggrieved innocent.”

“Insults will get you nowhere.”

Helena closed her eyes, sighed, and collected herself before opening them again. “Fine, I didn’t come here to take a trip down your inaccurate perception of memory lane. I came here to talk about Frankie.”

“I never meant to hurt her.” Leeza picked up a large cat that smelled like baby powder who had nonchalantly been rubbing itself against Leeza’s fake-baked legs.

“Patrick and I can take the heat, but she’s only a kid.”

“Look, I love Frances as much as you do. Don’t forget I raised her.” She cradled the cat like a baby, kissing it on the nose.

“No, Mary Poppins did that.”

“Well, who do you think she called Mommy?” Leeza tickled the purring cat under his chin.

“Only to be scolded and told to call you by name, except when Patrick was around.”

“She said that?”

“Spare me the drama.” Helena’s face burned.

“At least I didn’t abandon her.” Leeza’s grin made her look very much like the Batman’s rival, Joker.

Helena stepped back as if punched in the stomach. If she didn’t control herself, she’d smack this woman hard, this manipulator who’d begged her sixteen years ago to give Frankie to her and Patrick, telling her it was the best thing for all of them. “I did not abandon my child. I gave her to you and Patrick believing that she would be loved and raised by a family that wanted her. But all you wanted was Patrick’s money. That was why he turned to someone else in the first place, to someone who could love him for who he really is.”

The cat struggled free from Leeza’s arms. Helena ached to choke the life out of Leeza. “I want you to leave Frankie alone. It’s that simple. Don’t call her. Don’t write her. And don’t even consider pulling another one of your bullshit stunts.” Leeza looked stunned. “Yeah, I’m not the dumb-ass you think I am. I know you had someone try to run me down, then the crank-call. That was pleasant. Very clever of you.”

“You’re a whack job, always were. I have no idea what you’re talking about. And if I want to call Frances up and have a chat, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

“I’m not playing here, lady. Stay the hell out of our lives, or you will regret it!” Helena stormed off and headed for the Suburban parked on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway.

Leeza yelled, “Is that a threat?!” No answer. “You’re nuts! You’ve done too many drugs and fried the rest of your already half-baked brain. And you know what? That
did
sound like a threat to me. I’ll bet there’s a reporter or two who’d love to hear about this. Think I’ll give Claire Travers a call, Miss High and Mighty. Remember her?!” she screamed. “She wrote nice stories about you, didn’t she? Leave your family alone? You should’ve left my fucking husband alone, you whore!”

Helena slammed the truck’s door and revved the engine. “Get over it, for God’s sakes. It was sixteen years ago, you bitter bitch,” she muttered.

As she squealed out onto the highway, Helena knew that she’d made a grave mistake. Leeza was probably on the phone this very minute, once again seeking some type of twisted revenge.

Claire Travers loved a good story as much as the other sob sisters who wrote for the tabloids, but she had to admit that Leeza Kiley was becoming a bore. The woman shrieked at her for a good five minutes before Claire could get a word in.

“Okay, calm down, Leeza.” Claire switched the phone to the other ear. “Let me get this straight, Helena Shea came to your place and said some nasty things to you?”

“Nasty? Nasty? Yeah, you could say that! I wanted to kill the slut. Who does she thinks she is?”

Claire put her hand over her free ear. The buzzing inside the newsroom made it hard to hear. “Leeza, do you mind if we meet up tonight? I’ve got a deadline.”

“You’re not putting me on the back burner, are you, Claire?”

“Of course not. How about seven at Kate Mandolin’s Restaurant?”

“I’ll be there.”

Claire hung up and rubbed her temples. She cringed as the resulting breeze of her co-worker Fred’s sour stomach wafted her way. “Jesus Fred, did you eat Mexican again? Man, I got one word for you. Beano.”

“Funny, Claire,” Fred replied from the other side of the cubicle.

She leaned back in her chair, the springs creaking. God, what would it be like to have a real chair, in a real office, where people had real manners?

Tossing her pencil onto her desk, Claire pondered her next move. If she printed every tidbit Leeza called her about, she’d have a two-thousand-page novel.

But today’s tidbit was fairly interesting typical Hollywood diva stuff, with Helena Shea threatening Leeza. And then there was the fact that Helena was opening that new drug center for pregnant women and new moms. This could put a twist on things. But that really wasn’t cool. Here she was trying to do a good thing. Could it only be Leeza trying to stir things up? Highly likely.

The story wasn’t even lukewarm now. New scandals popped up everyday. People were bored with the Shea/Kiley feud. Claire picked her pencil back up and ran her fingers along it. Someone was listening to Howard Stern on the radio blabber about boobs.