Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood (18 page)

Theo looked truly baffled. “Sure. Thanks for having me.”

To Grace’s relief, Amber’s phone buzzed; she glanced down, distracted, and Grace leaped at the chance to redirect conversation away from the various consonants that made up Theo’s name. “How’s college?” she asked quickly. “Is that history professor giving you a break yet? Theo has this one guy who’s a real dictator,” Grace explained to the table. “He keeps springing tests on them with no warning.”

Theo paused. “He’s OK, but, my course load just doubled.” He looked uncomfortable. “I decided to double major in business, as well. To keep them all happy back home.”

“Oh, you never told me that.” Grace frowned, but Uncle Auggie nodded.

“Smart move, keeping your options open. And in this economy —”

“No one cares about the stupid economy!” Hallie interrupted. “Theo wants to hear all the latest news. Like my acting career.”

Finally, a smile tugged the edges of Theo’s lips. “I’d love to hear about your acting,” he told Hallie. “Tell me all about it.”

Grace sat quietly through the rest of dinner, her first burst of joy long forgotten. This was all wrong: Theo had barely even looked in her direction all night. When it came to her mom, or Hallie, Theo laughed and joked like nothing had changed, but all of Grace’s questions were met with awkward, half-hesitant replies until she gave up on trying to talk to him at all. What had happened?

Maybe she had screwed things up, back in San Francisco, Grace realized with a sudden horror. Maybe Theo had known exactly what she had been thinking about, well, the
kissing,
and now, in person, avoiding her unrequited feelings was just too awkward for him to deal with.

Hallie scraped back her chair. “I have to go meet Dakota.”

The noise dragged Grace back to reality. She looked around. The light was fading now, nothing but empty plates and dinnertime debris on the table.

“Good to see you, Theo. Swing down anytime!” Hallie planted a kiss on his cheek, then left.

Amber and Auggie rose from the table too. “We’ll make ourselves scarce,” Amber said, winking at Grace. “Give you two some time to . . . catch up.”

“It’s fine!” Grace all but yelped. “You don’t have to go anywhere.”

But they disappeared into the house, her mother wafting after them, and suddenly, Grace and Theo were left alone.

“So . . .” Theo started, then stopped. He fidgeted with his napkin. “How have you been?”

“You mean, since yesterday?” Grace smiled, trying to keep the mood light, but Theo just looked even more awkward.

“Of course,” he said. “Right.”

“I’m good,” Grace said quickly. “And I’m really glad you made it down. It’s good to see you again. You know, for real.”

The backyard suddenly lit up: dozens of tiny electric tea lights strung between the branches. Sultry jazz music began to play, low, through the outdoor speakers. Amber clearly thought she was doing them a favor: it was cozy, and romantic, and Theo looked as if he wanted to hurl himself straight into the pool to escape it all.

Grace leaped up. “Want a tour?” she said brightly.

“Yes!” Theo agreed immediately. “That would be great.”

Grace led him inside, sending silent thanks that there were seven bedrooms, a gym suite, and a library to see. That, at least, would fill some time. “You need to see the viewing room,” Grace babbled, heading up the sweeping staircase. “Uncle Auggie has a screen so big it takes up a whole wall, and the default screen saver shows pictures from Amber’s modeling portfolio. And the guest bathrooms are done in hot pink and orange!”

Theo followed her up, looking around slowly at the sweep of marble and abundance of chandeliers. “You know, you’ve never really said if you’re happy here.”

“I guess so,” Grace replied. “Amber’s sweet, once you get to know her, and Uncle Auggie means well. He’s so generous — he even tried to give me an allowance, but . . . I feel bad enough just taking over the guesthouse.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Theo paused. “Does it feel like home?”

Grace stopped. “No,” she said finally. “Not like before. Don’t get me wrong: it’s gorgeous,” she added quickly, “and we’re so lucky to be here. But, look around. It’s like a different world. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like . . . like I belong, the way I used to.”

Grace opened the doors to Uncle Auggie’s library: revealing a book-lined room of dark wood and hunter-green leather chairs. There were stuffed deer heads mounted above a huge flagstone fireplace, muted oil paintings on the wall, and a huge mahogany desk with ink pot and fountain pens at the ready. It looked like the quintessential gentleman’s library. Uncle Auggie never stepped foot in it.

Theo blinked. “Wow.” He drifted over to one of the bookcases, tracing the leather-bound volumes. “This is . . . kind of creepy, yet awesome.”

“It’s my favorite room in the house.” Grace exhaled happily. “Nobody ever uses it, and, I mean, it’s so wrong.”

Theo stared up at the dearly departed livestock. “So wrong.”

Grace collapsed into one of the wing chairs. “Check out the books. Take one.”

Theo tried to pull one out of place. It didn’t move. He frowned. “What . . . ?”

“They’re not real.” Grace grinned. Theo went to try another; this time, pulling out the whole row. “They’re glued together,” Grace explained. “Can you imagine? Amber said the designer bought them by the yard, just for the look. Some of them don’t even have writing inside, it’s all just for show.”

Theo shook his head. “Sacrilege.” He moved to join her, sitting in the matching wing chair across from the fireplace. “And this thing . . . ?” He looked at the heavy grate.

“Gas fire.” Grace flipped a switch, and suddenly, the hearth glowed with the flicker of fake flames, projected on an LCD screen.

“Convenient.” Theo grinned. “For when you want to warm yourself during those bitter Los Angeles winters.”

“Right?” Grace laughed. “It got so hot over summer, I could barely move. I just lay there for months, caressing the A/C dial.”

Theo laughed, and Grace felt a rush of relief. There: a glimpse of normal.

“What about you?” she asked. “Tell me more about the Hamptons — you barely said a word about it all summer.”

“It was fun.” He shrugged vaguely. “Mainly family stuff, you know.”

“Right.” Grace didn’t. “And now, college is . . . good?”

“Yup.” Theo stared at the fake flames in the hearth. “What about you? Any new friends?”

“A few,” Grace found herself saying. “You know about Palmer . . .”

“Right, with the hats.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m hanging out more with Harry.” Grace found herself adding, just to get some reaction. “And Brandon, of course. I was just with him, when you came over.”

Theo blinked. “The guy from next door? But isn’t he older?”

“Twenty-two.” Grace shrugged, nonchalant. Sure, she hung out with twentysomething guys all the time.

“Isn’t that kind of weird?” Theo looked thrown. “I mean, for him to be hanging around a junior?”

Grace stiffened. “Why? Because I’m such a kid?”

“I didn’t mean —”

“We get along great, actually,” she continued. “We have a lot in common.” Grace folded her arms and gazed at Theo defiantly. Was that what he thought of her: too young to have older friends?

“That’s great,” he said unconvincingly. “That you’re making friends.”

“Yes, it is.”

Silence.

Grace heard a car pull up outside; the familiar death rattle of Dakota’s old engine. “That’s weird,” she said, glad to change the subject. “She only just went out.”

She went to the window and looked out. Dakota’s car came to a stop, slung at an abrupt angle across the driveway, and before he’d even shut off the engine, Hallie came tumbling out. She fled toward the house, slamming the front door behind her.

“Oh, boy . . .” Grace turned away from the window. She hadn’t seen Hallie’s face clearly, just a flash of distress, but that was enough. A sense of impending doom blossomed in her veins.

“What’s wrong?” Theo leaped up at the sight of her face.

“I don’t know. . . . Nothing good.” Grace snapped back into action. “I should go, see if she’s OK.”

Theo’s face fell. “Uh, sure. And I better be getting back, to meet the guys.”

“Right.”

Grace took him down to the front door. “Give my best to your mom, and Hallie,” Theo said awkwardly. His shoulders were hunched, both hands in his pockets.

“You too. I mean, with Portia,” Grace said.

There was a pause, then they both bobbed toward each other in what had to be the most awkward brief hug in the history of awkward brief hugs. Grace patted his back stiffly. “Have a safe trip back!”

“You too.” Theo coughed. “I mean, stay safe.”

“Uh-huh.” Grace bit her lip. “Those mean streets of Beverly Hills!”

Grace closed the door behind him and rested her forehead against it for a moment, full of disappointment. What happened to “normal” and “nothing had changed?”; the casual e-mails and joking texts? Was this their friendship now: nothing but stilted conversation, and awkward hugs? She’d been waiting so long to see him again, but he’d been acting like they’d barely met — like all the afternoons they’d spent laughing together had never happened at all.

She headed for the guesthouse, trying to think of a reason, any reason at all why he would be so cold, but Grace could find only one explanation: that night up on the hill. She’d done this. She’d ruined everything!

The sound of Hallie shouting brought her back down to earth.

“I don’t understand! Why don’t you want me to come?”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to,” Dakota’s voice was pleading. “It’s just, you can’t, not right now.”

Grace paused on the stairs. She felt awkward eavesdropping, like she was a kid again, hovering outside her sister’s closed door, but she didn’t step away.

“Why not?” Hallie cried, voice breaking. “Is it the band? Did they say something? I knew Reed never liked me!”

“Come on, Hallie, please. I’m going to be busy in the studio, I’d barely see you. And you can’t leave your life here, I can’t ask that.”

“Why not? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for us to be together!” Hallie cut off into loud sobs, and when Dakota spoke again, it was softer. Soothing.

“It’s just for a couple of months,” he said, voice faintly muffled. Grace could picture him holding Hallie close. “And then when things are more settled, you’ll come visit, OK? Who knows, maybe they’ll hate us, and put us on the next flight back.”

“They won’t.” Hallie hiccupped. “They’ll love you.”

There was a long silence. Grace shifted uncomfortably, but just as she was about to turn and slip quietly back downstairs, Hallie’s door flew open and Dakota emerged.

“Hey!” Grace exclaimed, flushing. “I didn’t know you were here. I just came in!”

Dakota didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment. He looked worn-out, the way Grace always felt after being caught in one of Hallie’s maelstroms. “I have to go,” he told her, then glanced back at Hallie’s room. “Make sure she’s OK?”

Grace nodded, but he was already gone: taking the stairs two at a time in a dull thud.

She ventured into Hallie’s room. “What’s going on?”

“The band got a deal.” Hallie was sobbing, red eyed and wretched. “They’re going to New York to record.”

“But that’s great!” Grace moved closer.

“No, it isn’t!” Hallie cried. “He’s leaving! Why does he have to go? Everyone I love always leaves me!” And she collapsed facedown on the bed and howled.

Dakota left for New York the very next week. Grace watched as Hallie spent every last minute trailing him from band practice to errands to bon voyage parties; clinging to his hand so tightly it was as if she could make him stay through sheer force of will. Too soon, the day of his departure came.

“You’ll call?” Hallie clutched him, tears already flowing down her cheeks.

“Every day,” Dakota promised, hugging her close.

Grace moved a polite distance away in the busy Departures concourse. Dakota was traveling with the rest of his band, but Hallie had never been one to overlook the drama of a passionate farewell scene: she insisted on waving him off at the airport, which meant that Grace, as the only Weston sister with a driver’s license, was playing chauffeur.

She loitered by the newsstand while Dakota and Hallie murmured their good-byes.

“C’mon, D!” An impatient yell came from across the concourse. The rest of the band was waiting by the security line, toting guitar cases and duffel bags. Reed waved Dakota over. “We’re boarding, get a move on!”

Dakota broke away from Hallie and gave her one last kiss, cradling her face in both hands. He whispered something — too soft for Grace to hear — and then hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and walked away.

“Ready to go?” Grace asked, but Hallie stayed glued to the spot, watching as he handed over his ticket and boarded the escalator. “Hallie . . .”

“Hold on.” Hallie craned her neck to see, following the back of his head as he moved up toward the baggage-screening station; laughing and joking with the rest of the band. Grace watched too, waiting for Dakota to turn — to send Hallie one last smile, or wave — but he didn’t look back. The line moved on, and he disappeared from sight.