A Little Ray of Sunshine (7 page)

The so-called “feud” between Shelley Fabares and myself, like many Hollywood stories, has been wildly over-reported, and never accurately portrayed. I would like to take this opportunity to clear up some points:

1. She did not win the part of Mary Stone on The Donna Reed Show over me. Obviously, given that Shelley is somewhere between ten and fourteen years my senior (no one has ever been able to pin down her actual birthdate with any precision) this would be impossible. I will say that the producers were, at one point, thinking about adding a younger sister to the cast, and my name was bandied about.

2. I have no proof that Shelley requested that there only be one Stone daughter, and threatened to quit should I have been added to the cast. That is hearsay. And my source, while reliable, will remain anonymous.

3. It is patently untrue that I snuck onto the set of Girl Happy and put hot pepper flakes in Shelley’s bikini bottom. That could have been any number of girls on the long, long list of people who didn’t like her, of which I am only one.

4. As to the rumors that I named my daughter Emmy just so I could say I got an Emmy before Shelley ever did... well. She still doesn’t have one, now does she?

—from Twinkie and Me: The Real Life Confessions of Lilly Lorraine

Six

As we hit the first stoplight on the outside of Fletcher, I gripped the steering wheel so tight my fingers went numb. We’d driven almost non-stop for two days, and I was exhausted. While the driving was easier and faster without the trailer hitched up, I found myself in an elevated emotional state for most of the drive. If I was scared of going home, I was terrified; if I was happy about seeing the people I loved again, I was giddy. I couldn’t maintain a level state of mind, and found myself spiking into hyperactivity whenever I wasn’t fighting to keep from bursting into tears. Jess, for her part, had handled me well, distracting me with crossword puzzles and reading aloud from her Agatha Christie novel.

Now, less than five minutes away from Danny’s house, I was beyond even her powers to calm.

“Okay,” I said, my chatter matching the pace of my racing heart, “here’s the thing. Danny’s a sweetheart. He’s big and cuddly like a teddy bear, and he’ll make you feel at home instantly.”

The light turned green and I hit the gas. “He’s got a big, soft heart and at some point during the visit, I almost guarantee he’ll adopt a three-legged stray or save a whale or something. It’s just Danny. He’s an architect, and he does pretty well for himself, so the house might be a little intimidating at first, but he’s got a great, warm style and—”

I paused as we passed by the old second-run movie theater where Luke and I used to go every year for the Humphrey Bogart festival. At the top of the marquee, in all caps, was PETE’S FEED AND HARDWARE, with, “Sweet Crimped Oats and all hammers 20% off til June 25,” in smaller, mismatched letters underneath. The knowledge that the Lyceum had sold out to become a feed store shot a weird panic through me, and I stopped breathing for a second.

“EJ?”

I snapped out of it and glanced back at the road, my heart still hammering. I took a left onto Wingdale Road.

“Right? Where was I? Oh, yeah. You need to be prepared for my mother. She’s probably already living there. I mean, she’s getting married for the eighth time in a week for the eighth time, why be precious about it, right? So. My mother.” I heaved out a long breath. “I don’t want to say she’s evil, but I find myself at a loss for a more fitting word. First of all, she wears pearls and diamonds and dresses all day long, even at breakfast. Her hair styling habits alone have probably contributed to half the hole in the ozone. The second we get there, she’s gonna start in on my hair, then my clothes, then my shoes, then my weight.”

“Your weight?” Jess said. “You’re kidding. What are you, a size eight?”

I shot her a look. “In Hollywood, the fat girls are a size six. But that’s okay; the physical critique will only last an hour, tops. By then, she will have moved on to my disappointing character traits, such as how I have no appreciation for making a good first impression, and how my unwillingness to participate in the latest gossip about her fading Hollywood D-list starlet friends constitutes an ignorant disdain for current events and popular culture. She won’t even notice you until probably day two or three, at which point she will quote-unquote ‘kindly’ offer to take you to the salon to fix either your hair or your nails or your skin, whatever feature she feels is less than acceptable. Whatever you do, don’t buy into her bullshit. You’re fine the way you are.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh!” I snapped my fingers in the air. “Also, whatever you do, do not mention Shelley Fabares.” I swallowed hard as we took a right onto Kotter Drive.

“Shelley Fabares?” Jess asked. “The lady from
Coach
?”

“Oh, crap. You know who she is. Yes, it’s the lady from
Coach
and also she was on
The Donna Reed Show
and she starred in a movie with Elvis and my mother is completely obsessed with her for reasons that are way beyond my comprehension.”

“Didn’t she also have a hit song in, like, the fifties?”

“‘Johnny Angel.’ Nineteen sixty-two. You hum one bar of that song, my mother’s head will twirl around, she’ll start speaking in tongues. It’s crazy. Just to be safe, don’t mention Shelley. Not that you would, I mean you’re smarter than that, but...”

I released a long breath as the road wound its way toward Danny’s house, which sat at the end. I pulled my foot up from the accelerator and let the truck slow down to twenty miles per hour.

“Um... EJ?” Jess’s voice was thick with worry, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the road. “Are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

“I’m fine,” I said, on a weak and I’m sure thoroughly unconvincing laugh. We wound around a curve and I could see the edge of Danny’s roof through the huge firs that flanked the edge of the property. I slowed down to a crawl and turned into the long paved stone drive.

“Whoa,” Jess breathed as we closed in on the house, a four thousand square foot craftsman Danny designed himself back in the seventies. The exterior was the same familiar smooth stone, the overhung roof made of the same natural wood. The interior used to be simple and understated, white walls with natural blond wood trim over hardwood floors, everything natural, simple, comfortable, just like Danny, but I shuddered to think what my mother had done to it. She had the decorating tastes of Zsa-Zsa Gabor on methamphetamines. She was probably having the back deck laminated in gold at the very moment we pulled up.

I edged the truck over to the side of the circular driveway and parked it, then leaned forward and stared at the house through the windshield.

“I wonder if they’re even home,” I said, but before I could finish, Jess said, “Is that Digs?”

It was. He stepped out from the porch and then paused when he saw us. Our eyes met, and very slowly, he smiled. I smiled back and he approached, walking around to Jess’s side of the truck first and opening the door for her.

“I have to apologize,” he said, holding his hand out to help Jess out. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do it. I have obviously underestimated your divine powers.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Jess said. “I had to kidnap her.”

“Way to think on your feet, angel.” Digs shut the door, and then walked around to my side. I kept my hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, and as the door opened, I asked the question on my mind. “Who’s here?”

He gave one gentle shake of his head:
Luke’s not here
. “I’m helping Dad fix some planks out on the back deck, and Lilly’s in the kitchen, making lunch.”

I glanced up. “What? You’re letting her cook? Are you insane?”

Digs chuckled. “She cooks now. And knits.”

I gave him a hard look. “Okay, now I know you’re full of shit.”

Digs kept a straight face. So straight, I thought he might not be kidding. “Things are different now, EJ. I could have warned you if you’da called first.”

I shrugged and stepped out of the truck. “I wasn’t sure I’d make it all the way here. I’m still
thisclose
to turning around and going back.”

“Ah, just as well,” he said, “because this is gonna be fun to watch.”

I had just shut the door when I heard the deep, rumbly, genuinely joyous laugh that could only come from one source: Danny Greene. I tucked my hands in my pockets and watched as Danny walked toward us. His thick hair had thinned a bit at the temples, and gone from his old salt and pepper to mostly salt, but his grinning, ruddy face was exactly the same as it had always been.

“EJ,” he said softly. His face didn’t hold even the slightest note of reproach or anger, despite the fact that I’d screwed up so bad. He simply smiled and reached for my hands, holding them out from me as he surveyed me from head to toe. “Just as beautiful as ever.”

My eyes filled as he pulled me into a hug, but I bit the inside of my cheek and blinked the tears away. If I started crying now, I’d still be weeping on the wedding day. Danny released me and put both hands on my cheeks.

“How have you been, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Good,” I said, choking on the word and blinking harder. “I’m sorry, I would have called but—”

“Oh, you know better than that. You never need to call first. I’m just glad you’re here.” He lowered his hands and reached one out to Jess. “Hi. I’m Danny Greene.”

Jess giggled and stepped forward. “I’m Jess Szyzynski, a friend of EJ’s. Its’ so nice to meet you. EJ’s told me so much I feel like I already know you.”

I cleared my throat. “We were just going to get set up at the Grande, but I thought we should let you know we were here—”

“You’re not going to any hotel,” Danny said, then turned to Digs. “Get their bags, David. I’ll show these lovely ladies inside.”

“Danny, really, we can—,” I began, but he grabbed my hand, tucking it into his elbow.

“There’s plenty of room, and you know the rule: No arguing allowed on my property.” He held one elbow out to Jess. “Humor an old man. It might be my last chance to escort two gorgeous young women into the house. I’m getting married, you know.”

Jess grinned and took his arm while Digs grumbled behind us as he tried to dislodge Jess’s duffle bag from the narrow space behind the cab seats.

I heard her before I saw her, that familiar, shrill voice calling out, “Danny, who’s here?” and my stomach tightened with tension as I awaited the oncoming assault. Then a moment later, as she appeared on the porch, I was too stunned to feel much of anything.

She was wearing jeans.
Jeans
. And a green cotton turtleneck. And an apron—check, a
dirty
apron—on which she was wiping her hands. Her hair was pulled back in a demure, white-blonde ponytail that gave her a fun, youthful appearance. Her bright blue eyes stared out from under lashes clear of mascara and lids sans eyeshadow. Her cheeks held only a natural blush, and her pale pink lips sported only the lightest touch of clear lip gloss. There was not a diamond nor a pearl in sight.

She froze as she came around the porch. I let go of Danny’s arm and stopped where I was, staring at this creature as though she’d just been beamed down from a passing spaceship. In my peripheral vision, I could see Danny step aside and whisper something to Jess, who nodded, but I couldn’t hear anything. My blood was roaring in my ears and I felt like I was about to fall over.

This woman who looked vaguely like my mother put her hand to her mouth and I think she said something, but I couldn’t hear it. Then she opened her arms and ran to me, throwing them around my neck and hugging me with a warmth I had never experienced in the twenty-four years we’d been speaking to each other.

“... can’t believe you’re here, sweetheart,” I heard her weepy voice saying when my hearing returned. “Oh, Emmy, darling, I’ve just missed you so much.” She stepped back and put her hands on my face. They were still cold and bony, the only thing about this woman that was even remotely familiar. Her eyes glistened as she smiled at me, a full smile that allowed for crinkling at the edges of her eyes, something I’d never seen her do before. “You look wonderful. A little on the thin side, but I’m making paninis. We’ll get you fed.”

I opened my mouth but was too stricken to talk. Digs came up behind me and put his hand on my back as if he were concerned I might fall over. I turned and looked at him, and he watched me with a mixed expression of amusement and guilt.

“Okay,” he said. “Maybe I should have told you.”

***

My original shock started to transition into annoyance somewhere around the time paninis were served on the back deck. I was unable to figure out which emotions were which, and what I was and was not entitled to feel considering that I wasn’t within a country mile of blameless here, so I kept my smile on and engaged in polite chit-chat while we all angled to see each other around the 500-pound gorilla sitting on the center of the circular deck table, feeding off our unasked questions. For instance, I did not ask who this nice woman was and what she had done with my mother. My mother, for her part, did not ask if Jess was just a friend or my lesbian lover, although that was obviously the question rattling around in her head. Danny, smiling despite the fact that he had every right to be seriously pissed off at me, did not ask where the hell I’d been all these years and why I’d forgotten how to use the phone or write a letter. The only people who seemed to be completely comfortable with each other and themselves were Digs and Jess.

“So,” I said, poking at the panini with a fork, “You really cooked this? All by yourself?”

The stranger pretending to be my mother smiled. “Yes. I’ve learned to cook. Can you believe it? I never had the patience before, but now I’ve figured out a thing or two in the kitchen and I really enjoy it.”

“A thing or two?” Danny leaned forward and put his hand on hers, giving her a smile. “She can make a gourmet meal out of a can of kidney beans and a bag of pasta.”

“Wow.” I had an odd urge to throw the panini at her head, but reminded myself that such an action would probably be frowned upon. “The place looks great, Danny. The same, actually. Mom, you
are
living here, right?”

She nodded and smiled girlishly at Danny. “Going on five years.”

Five years? Five years and no hideous abstract murals on the walls painted by some crap but popular artist whose name looked better than the art? Five years, and she hadn’t disrupted the lake view with a hot tub and sauna and a circus tent? Five years and—