Free Fall (22 page)

"I’m running late, Karla. What did you say?"

"I said that I wouldn’t be leaving for awhile. In fact I was thinking of breaking into the business, I mean you've got plenty of room here, why don’t I help you pay rent? They’re looking for extras," she pointed to the ad she had up on the laptop screen. "I guess if I get some experience I can apply for a SAG card and be just like you. Maybe I could guest star on The Edge."

Karen stared at her a moment, her eyes wide. Karla had flourished in recovery and was looking good. She had gained fifteen pounds, her skin cleared up and lost its sallow hue and she'd put a blonde rinse in her hair, which looked remarkably healthy and shiny when it was washed and styled. "I don’t need help in paying rent. But if you want to stay until you get a job that’ll be fine."

"No, Karen," Karla stood up and faced her sister. "I’ll be staying as long as I want. You’re going to help me get a job and get back on my feet. Then we’ll decide where I live."

"Mom lives closer to the studios." Karen said.

"Mom lives in a trashy neighborhood, and you know that," Karla retorted. "It’s time I take control for once. I’m doing it Karen. I’m clean and I plan to stay that way. And, what about Doug Lester?"

"Huh?" Karen said.

"Doug Lester. The guy you were engaged to? You know, the guy who died?" Karla said.

Karen went cold inside. "What’s he got to do with anything? You promised you would never say anything about that to anyone. You have just as much to lose as I do."

"What did I do?" Karla bounced down on the couch. She had on a pair of white jeans and a pale pink tank top. Both belonged to Karen. "Did I stalk someone for six months?"

"I didn’t stalk anyone, for Christ sakes! My engagement to Doug was at stake and we were trying to work things out."

"He broke your engagement! And you hounded him everywhere he went for months. You were never going to get back together. He didn’t want you!"

"That’s not true," Karen said. "It was an accident! And you were an accessory after the fact."

Karla scowled, "Accessory after what fact? If it was an accident how would I be trouble? You would be the one in trouble if certain people knew. Now that I’m sober maybe I want to confess the awful secret and make amends. That’s a big word in treatment, you know—amends."

"You wouldn’t dare!"

"I would. Get used to it Karen. I’m here to stay. Indefinitely. Oh! I found this." She pulled out a folded rectangle. "You should keep your important papers in a safe place."

Karen snatched the restraining order out of her hands. "This was in my lock box!"

Karla shrugged. "Maybe you should have used a different combination than our birthday. That was totally dumbass. So, what’s this? Another misunderstanding that you just need to," she made quotes in the air, "work things out?"

Karen was silent.

"Sounds to me that Joseph finally wised up and dumped your ass. Are you turning him into another Doug?"

"Quit saying his name!"

"You need to get help, Karen. I bet we could find a treatment center for stalkers. They’ve got rehab for everything now. Where ya going?" she yelled as Karen stormed out of the house.

Karen walked to her car and, after fumbling with the door handle, got in behind the wheel. Her heart was pounding. How dare she bring up Doug! It wasn't her fault. If only he hadn't broken up with her! Karen's mind worked furiously over old possibilities. If Doug hadn't broken their engagement they'd be married now and she would be living in that great big mansion in Brentwood. She'd be driving a brand new Mercedes instead of this used one, and having carte blanche with her very own American Express Platinum card. She and Doug were perfect together. She still didn't understand why he broke up with her. He'd said that he felt smothered and was annoyed by her excessive spending for the wedding. After a whole year together he must have known who she was. How was she any different from when they first met? Of course she was high maintenance. Of course she wanted a big wedding.

Three weeks before the wedding he told her that he didn't love her and was calling it off. Karen tried to talk him out of it. So, maybe she was a tiny bit pushy. But she certainly wasn't a stalker. His mother wanted the fifty thousand dollar engagement ring back. Doug had given it to
her
, who cared if it was a family heirloom? She wanted to sell the ring, get a makeover and become irresistibly beautiful so she could snag another rich man.

Meeting Doug had been a fluke. She was house sitting for a family, a job that she'd gotten through a temp agency, and one of the perks was a guest membership to the country club the family belonged to. Doug had noticed her in the lounge one night and asked to buy her a drink. When she discovered that he had a trust fund and that his family was worth almost a billion dollars, she'd wasted no time forging a relationship. After his death she moved out of the area and changed her name. She sold the ring, got breast implants, and her teeth capped. She spent several thousand dollars on expensive looking clothes and started hanging out in the upscale restaurant lounges in Los Angeles and Century City. When she was approached by a casting director who said he was looking for someone just like her to play a bit part in a low budget film, she was hooked. She loved being in front of a camera, and absolutely loved watching herself on film. Soon, she was getting all sorts of attention and she thrived on it. Karen's original plan to be a trophy wife had changed into being a Hollywood star.

Things were going fine until that woman showed up. Now, she had to have the break up with Joseph rubbed in her face every day on the set. No one was paying attention to her. Everyone at work seemed to avoid her and her intuition told her that it was because she was no longer with Joseph, who was the lead actor on the show. She had to get him back. She had to show everyone that no one dumps her. She was unhappy and unfocused. Her loser sister was shacked up in her house. Karen started the car and drove to the studio. Things couldn't get much worse.

In the parking lot of the studio she saw Joseph standing in a group of people and she did a double take when she saw a familiar woman with brown hair at his side. She's back! What the hell? They hadn't seen her and as she went past the group, a man stepped out of the way and gave her a clear view of Nina's profile. Is she pregnant? Dear God! She watched in horror as Joseph helped her into a waiting car. At the studio door she ran smack into Greg Mead, the production assistant.

"Karen, just the person I want to see." Greg caught her arm to steady her.

"I have to use the restroom," Karen said. She had to get by herself so she could think coherently.

"Okaaay, you may use the bathroom," Greg gave a little laugh. "But there's a meeting in the small conference room and you need to be there."

"What? There's a production meeting today?"

"No, this is a private meeting with John," Greg said, referring to the executive producer.

"Okay, I'll be there," Karen mumbled and pushed past him.

She went into the unisex bathroom that consisted of one toilet stall, a sink, a large mirror and a urinal. She locked the door behind her and went into the stall and shut and locked that door too. She sat mindlessly on the toilet and put her head into her hands. That fucking bitch! She screamed soundlessly. She did this on purpose! She pulled at her long silky hair in frustration. She stood up, dropped her bag, ripped off the light cardigan she was wearing and threw it on the floor. She felt boiling hot. Rage overcame her and she pounded the side of the stall, and then stood there, legs spread, pounding both sides of the stall with her fists. She stopped. I'm losing it! She thought, and tried to gain control of her anger. She slammed open the stall door and went to the sink to splash cold water onto her face. Then she leaned down and took several gulps of the metallic tasting stuff. She caught her reflection in the mirror. A red faced woman with wild hair and wild eyes stared back at her. I must calm down! She got her bag and ran a comb through her partially wet hair. Then she concentrated on a breathing technique that actors used to lower their heart rate and quell nervousness before a performance. A technique that Joseph had taught her! That bastard! This isn't going to happen! There is no way in hell that woman and Joseph are having a baby! Just you wait, people! I have to get out of here, she thought frantically. I have to go home so I can think clearly. She picked up her sweater and unlocked the restroom door, thinking that she would sneak out and call Greg later, saying that she had gotten sick.

She opened the door to face a crowd of people standing outside. A security guard was in front, about to enter the restroom. Several members of the crew were there. Greg and John were there, and they all looked shocked and confused as she stood framed in the bathroom doorway. The security guard asked her if she was all right. Karen realized belatedly that her pounding in the bathroom must have echoed all through the cavernous building and must have sounded like an earthquake.

The security guard cautiously looked inside the door to see if there was someone else coming out of the bathroom and Karen said, "It's just me."

She moved forward and the crowd parted silently on either side of her. She kept her eyes on the floor and then sprinted for the exit.

On the way home she ranted and raved to herself in the car. How could she have lost it completely? It must be all the stress she was under. She kept seeing that woman standing by Joseph’s side, all pregnant and complacent. With her shit brown hair pulled back in a clip, wearing that cheap trailer trash plus-sized top. Her face had looked fat, her eyes all squished up in her cheeks. She was ugly! It probably wasn’t even Josephs’ kid. How pregnant was she, she wondered? She couldn’t have gotten that big so fast. If it wasn’t for her she wouldn’t have lost her cool in the restroom. How dare he parade her around like that? All those people outside the bathroom! How completely and utterly mortifying! She tried to think of some excuse, some explanation for her behavior.

She entered her house to find Karla sitting in the same exact spot as she'd left her.

"Whoa!" Karla saw Karen's pale, pinched face. "Back so soon? What’s up with you, princess?"

Karen sniffed the air. "Are you smoking pot? I thought that you were supposed to be off drugs. You know, clean and sober? Are you relapsing as we speak?"

Karla gave a little shrug. "Cannabis is not a drug, Karen. It’s a miracle plant." She picked up the half smoked blunt off the top of a Red Bull can and lit it, inhaling deeply. "For the pain," she said, grinning around curls of smoke.

Karen put her hands on her hips. "Get out of my house."

Karla looked at her for several seconds and then said calmly, "Make me." She put down the blunt and pointed to a single sheet of paper on the coffee table. "Before you do, though, I wanted to show you what I printed out from the internet. It’s really quite amazing what you can Google." She picked up the sheet and started reading it out loud.

"Douglas Charles Lester, 33, was found dead at the California Polo Club early Monday morning. A groom found Lester’s body outside of the stall of his favorite pony. Los Angeles County Coroner has not yet released the cause of death. Hannah Dade-Lester, widow of millionaire philanthropist Charles Lester, II..."

"Stop," Karen screamed. She lunged for the piece of paper, but Karla held it high over her head out of Karen’s reach. Karen fell on top of her, rolled her off the couch and onto the floor, knocking the wrought iron coffee table over on its side. Karen tried to scratch at Karla's face, and then grabbed a handful of hair. Karla cried out and with one great heave shoved her sister off of her. She scrambled to her feet and stood breathless over Karen, a victorious look on her face.

She said, "Get this straight, sister. I’m not going to let you ruin anyone else’s life. You understand? I’ll leave because I can’t stand living with you anymore. I just need to make it clear to you that you won’t get away with hurting anyone else. I’ve made it one of my conditions of recovery. You leave Joseph alone. I’ll be keeping track of you and if I find out you’ve been messing with him I will tell everyone about what happened with Doug. I’ll post it on the internet, I’ll email all the bloggers, I’ll tell your boss, I’ll tell people on the street, I’ll rent a Goddamn billboard if I have to, but most importantly I’ll tell Joseph." She reached out with her foot and nudged her sister."You feel me? Nod your head if you understand."

Miserably Karen nodded her head, if only to get her sister, or this insane demon that her sister had become, out of her house.

"Okay, then," Karla said brightly, her demeanor changed. "I’m taking your roll away suitcase, and a few of your things that I’ve become attached to." She turned on her heel and left the room. Karen could hear her in the spare bedroom as she packed her things.

She got to her feet and righted the coffee table. Karla came out with her largest suitcase and she watched, tight lipped, as her sister traipsed toward the front door.

"The key?" Karen said.

Karla fished a key chain out of her pocket and took off a house key. She tossed it onto the floor.

"I’ll need bus fare," She said. She picked up Karen’s purse and removed three twenties from her wallet. "Oh, hey! You got a phone call." She held out Karen’s cell phone and Karen snatched it from her. Karla left the house without another word.