Zooming in on the kid’s face, I compare his features to mine. Similar face shape. Same eye colour. Same mouth – full, almost feminine. I got into my fair share of fights as a boy over my girly lips. Until I got to be around eleven and it became clear that girls weren’t bothered by that fullness. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wonder if anyone will tell him that.
River’s mouth isn’t smiling, and I wonder if he ever laughs. The straight, pale lines of his eyebrows are barely there at all, and their shape, too, matches mine. But where my straight brows express confidence, and when necessary – conceit, he just looks … solemn.
As though summoned, a new text appears from Brooke. I never called her back after I ignored her interruption during Dori’s call. She called again this morning – also ignored. She didn’t leave a message either time.
Brooke: I need to talk. I can’t talk to anyone else about this. Please.
Reluctantly, I dial her back, imagining some sort of ill-omened soundtrack in the background, intensifying with each ring like a swelling threat of doom.
‘Thanks for calling,’ she answers. ‘I’m not – not asking for your opinion or your advice. I just need to talk, and I need you to listen.’
Seriously? Just listen and keep my opinions to myself. When has that ever applied to me?
‘Brooke, you can’t just unload on me and expect me to not tell you what I think.’
She’s quiet for a moment, and I think maybe she’s about to deliver a terse Never mind and dead air. Or Fuck you and dead air. Or just dead air.
‘Okay. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to follow – or even consider – what you have to say.’
‘Then why tell me? Why not tell Kathryn, or –’
‘Because it’s a career thing. And usually, I would call …’
Graham. Damn that f**ker. I get it, and we’re even cautious friends, now – but damn.
‘Okay, okay. Fine.’ I run a hand through my hair. The fact that she just wants to discuss a career crisis is sort of a relief, though I have to wonder what she’d have to say to me that she wouldn’t much rather talk over with her agent or manager. ‘Spill.’
She breathes a sigh and tells me how last fall, she nearly landed the lead in Paper Oceans – an upcoming film that has Hollywood buzzing, even pre-production. Impressed, I have no problem commiserating at the loss, especially since it went to Caren Castleberry, one of the industry’s most talentless, well-connected twits.
‘That sucks. Don’t they know they need someone who can express multiple emotions for that role? She’s basically got one expression.’ I switch on the razor and start a quick once-over.
‘I know, right? If they did a graphic representation of her accessible emotions, they could use the same f**king photo for all of them. The most accurate one would be labelled stoned.’
‘Speaking of – didn’t she just break her pelvis or something, drunk skiing?’
‘Yeah. She totally did. Pelvis and both legs, according to my agent.’
‘Ouch. That’ll put her out of commission for a few weeks … for many things.’
‘Gross, Reid. Jesus.’
‘I’m just sympathizing!’
She huffs a breath. ‘Anyway – and this is totally classified because it’s not on paper yet – I got the role.’
‘Wow. That’s awesome.’ I recall her I don’t want your opinion speech, and I’m guessing this isn’t the dilemma she felt compelled to share. ‘So what’s the problem?’
‘Filming starts in Australia. This summer.’
Ah. Talk about suck-ass timing. ‘Brooke, you might not get another shot at a film like this – a role like this. If this is the career direction you want, you don’t have a choice.’
‘See, that’s the thing. I do have a choice. And I think … I have to turn it down.’
My mouth hangs open for a moment and the razor buzzes in my hand. ‘You’re going to turn it down? Because of – what you’re doing in Austin? Isn’t there some way around flat-out turning it down?’
‘I don’t see a way. I have to be here. In the US. I can go back and forth between Austin and LA, as often as needed, but I can’t adopt a child and then disappear to the land down under for a month or however long – if the court would even allow me to do that, which it won’t.’
‘What do you expect me to –’
‘I told you I don’t expect even an opinion from you, and I was serious. I just need to talk this out. Fuck. I mean – God, I’m going to have to stop saying that – Stan also wants me back for the season finale of Life’s a Beach. I think I can work that into an offer for next season.’
‘Speaker.’ I set the phone on the counter and start shrugging into my interview outfit. ‘Let me get this straight, Brooke – you’re going to throw away a major role in a possibly Oscar-worthy film to be on a teenage cable version of Baywatch? Have you completely lost it?’
‘If this opportunity hadn’t come back around –’
‘If the opportunity hadn’t come back around, your agent would still be looking for film roles, right? Hearts Over Manhattan is coming out in three weeks – I’ve seen clips, by the way, and it’s going to kill at the box office. You’ll get auditions for more romcoms from that alone. But I can’t believe we’re even talking about that because you can’t be serious that you want to turn down this role.’