Dear George Clooney: Please Marry My Mom (15 page)

“Is Dudley there?” I couldn’t resist asking.

There was a pause before she answered.
“Signs point to yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I invented the Magic-8-Ball conversation. Do
not
use it on me.”

“Sorry, Violet. Just trying for a bit of levity.”

I softened my tone. “Yeah. I know.”

“And no, I haven’t answered him yet. I’ve told him I need some time to think.”

“You can’t marry him, Mom.”

“Violet.”

I didn’t respond.

“Well, I should let you go.”

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“And I love you, my dear silly girl.”

Dad still wasn’t home by the time I went to bed. Rosie was already sound asleep, her little chest rising and falling with each breath, her sheet twisted around her feet.

I read my book for a long time, but it was still hard to concentrate. My thoughts kept drifting to Dudley’s proposal, to Jean-Paul, and to Ashley’s nose.

And to Phoebe. Especially Phoebe. What a mess I’d made. She was my best friend, and I missed her like crazy.

I heard Dad’s car pull up around midnight. I thought about climbing out of bed and meeting him at the door to say hello, but I didn’t really feel like it and so I didn’t. I knew I would see him in the morning, over breakfast.

I could put my plan into motion then.

T
hanks to one tiny beam of sunlight that shone through a crack in our bedroom curtains like a laser beam, directly into my left eye, I woke up early the next morning. Rosie was still sound asleep, so I slipped out of bed and closed the door quietly behind me.

As I approached the kitchen, I could hear voices. Raised voices, arguing. I slowed my pace and strained to hear.

“That’s the third new dress in the last month.” Dad’s voice.

“You know I have to look good when I go to an audition.” Jennica’s voice.

“Of course. But you have a closetful of outfits to choose from.”

“I hate wearing the same thing twice to these things; I feel like I’m jinxing it.”

“That … is ridiculous.”

“And you’re one to talk, Mr. I-Just-Bought-a-Brand-New-Mercedes-Benz-Convertible.”

“I needed a new car. Besides, this pilot pays well.”

“Oh, so just because you’re working and I’m not, you’re allowed to spend and I need to pinch pennies?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“When we first met,
I
was outearning
you
, and did I ever make you feel bad about what you spent?”

“Jennica, be reasonable. We’re mortgaged up the wazoo here. This pilot may never go to series. You haven’t worked in six months.”

“Thanks a lot, Ian. Thanks for the reminder.”

I chose that moment to walk into the room. “Good morning,” I announced in my best I-have-overheard-nothing voice.

Dad’s face lit up. “Violet!” He looked genuinely happy to see me, which surprised me. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight. I breathed in the scent of him and suddenly felt tears prick my eyes, even though I didn’t feel particularly sad.

But all I said was “Hello, Father.”

“Look at you. You’re hardly a kid anymore. You’re turning into a beautiful young woman.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please.”

“I see more of your mother in you every day.”

I wasn’t sure how to take that, so I wriggled free and grabbed a bowl from a nearby cupboard. “You have any cereal?”

Jennica got down a bunch of boxes, and, for the first time, I noticed her new outfit. It was a white baby-doll sundress that showed off her assets, if you know what I mean. She wore a lot of makeup that somehow managed to look mostly natural. Mostly.

“You look nice,” I told her as I checked out the cereal labels. They were all what my mother would call junk: Cap’n Crunch, Count Chocula, Lucky Charms. I grabbed the box of Lucky Charms.

“Thanks,” she said, shooting my dad a look. “I have an audition later this morning.”

Dad poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’m sorry I have to work so much while you’re here, sweetheart.”

I shrugged. “No big deal.” Then I said, as casually as possible, “I hear George Clooney’s shooting a movie at the same studio.”

“That’s right. They’re on Lot 9. We’re on Lot 18.”

“Have you met him?”

Dad smiled. “Never even seen him. Tantamount Studios is huge.”

My heart sank, but only a little. I poured myself a huge bowl of Lucky Charms. “Can I come to the set with you today?”

Dad’s brow furrowed. “Gosh, Violet. I couldn’t possibly swing it for today. We’re shooting this big action sequence – it’s going to be chaos. And not nearly as interesting as you might think.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow’s not good, either.”

“Ian,” Jennica said, and her voice had a slight edge to it. “Your daughter would like to see what you do.”

It was kind of fun, watching my dad get backed into a corner. “Please, Dad,” I said, laying it on a bit thick. “I want to spend more time with you.”

“But that’s the problem. I won’t be able to spend time with
you
. It’s go, go, go, from the moment I get there till the moment I leave.”

I opened my eyes just a little bit wider and blinked a few times, like I might cry at any moment. “
Please
, Daddy,” I said.

He sighed. “Let me check the schedule when I get into work, okay? If there’s a day that’s not completely insane while you’re here, I’ll arrange for you to visit. But I’m not making any promises, understood?”

I nodded. It was the most I was going to get out of him for now.

After breakfast, I asked Jennica if I could borrow her computer.

“Sure thing,” she said. She brought her MacBook Pro into the living room. I logged on to Facebook. First, I checked Karen’s home page. The photos of my mom had been removed. Next, I went under my FRIENDS list to delete Ashley Anderson, but she was already gone. She’d beat me to it.

Just as I was about to shut down, I noticed, under CHAT at the bottom of the page, that one of my friends was online, too. Since I had so few Facebook friends, this hardly ever happened. I clicked on the icon to see who it was.

Phoebe Stegel,
it said.

Without taking time to think about it, I typed her a message, hit RETURN, and held my breath.

Violet Gustafson = Butthead. Can you ever forgive me?

I waited. Just when I was convinced she was going to ignore me, a response popped up on the screen.

Violet Gustafson = Phoebe’s best friend. One fight isn’t going to change that.

Ever since our fight, it felt like a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around my heart. Now, the pressure lifted, and it felt like I could breathe again.

I love you.

Please. Don’t go all mooshy on me. I can’t believe I missed you hitting Ashley. I was home with a cold. It’s all anyone’s talking about.

I am not proud.

Nor should you be. So I take it you apologized to your dad?

Yes. But I had a motive.

What?

Dudley asked my mom to marry him.

NO WAY!!! What did she say?

She hasn’t answered him yet.

Wow. But – this doesn’t explain why you apologized to your dad.

I found out George Clooney is shooting a movie at Tantamount Studios.

The same place your dad is shooting his pilot?

Exactly.

You’re going to try to meet George!!

Smart girl. But Dad hasn’t agreed to let me visit the set yet. I’m trying to come up with a backup plan.

There was a long pause again. I knew Phoebe was thinking. After a minute, her response popped up.

Star maps.

Star maps?

Those maps they sell of stars’ homes. Maybe G.C.’s house is on one.

You’re brilliant.

As always. Keep me posted, okay?

But, of course.

Hey. Don’t you want to hear about the dance?

I don’t know. Do I?

Yes. You do. Ashley and Jean-Paul didn’t show.

Really?

Really.

Maybe she didn’t want to go with a broken nose.

Maybe. Gotta run, Violet. Cathy’s taking me to her chanting class. Bye!! xo

My heart felt so much lighter as I shut down Jennica’s computer. Phoebe and I were okay. And buying a star map was a great idea.
But how could I get my hands on one, and, more important, if George Clooney’s house was listed, how would I get there?

Jennica appeared in the doorway. “Violet, Anna Maria just arrived. I should be back by lunch.”

A lightbulb went on in my head. “Could I come with you?”

Jennica looked at me like she didn’t understand the question.

“To your audition. I mean, not
into
your audition, but … I could come, and then afterward we could spend some time together. You know. A girls’ afternoon.”

As I spoke, Jennica’s expression moved from shock to suspicion to what I could only describe as … I don’t
know …
joy
. “You want to spend the day … with me?” Honestly, she looked like she was about to cry.

“Sure.”

“I’d love that. We’ll have so much fun. We could go for sushi. And I could book us mani-pedis.”

“Whats?”

“A manicure and a pedicure.”

“Actually,” I said, “I have something else in mind.”

“What’s that?”

“A driving tour of the stars’ homes.”

Jennica didn’t look thrilled, but all she said was “Sure. We’ll do whatever you want. I’ll go let Anna Maria know I won’t be home till later.”

She practically skipped out of the room. I smiled just a little bit. Honestly, it was almost too easy.

Jennica’s audition was in Burbank. The traffic was terrible, and it took us over an hour to get there, but we’d left in plenty of time so she wouldn’t be late.

I won’t lie, it was kind of cool driving down the traffic-congested highways of L.A. in Jennica’s VW Golf Convertible. She’d loaned me her sunglasses again, the ones that said LOUIS VUITTON in small letters on their black frames. And while we drove, I pretended I was a movie star being chauffeured to work.

Halfway through the drive, Jennica fumbled around
in her purse and handed me some sheets of paper. “Do you mind running my lines with me?” she asked. “You read the lines I haven’t highlighted.”

It was a couple of pages from a script for a sitcom called
Couch Potatoes
. I’d seen it once or twice in Vancouver. I didn’t think it was very funny, but I didn’t tell Jennica that.

I read the Joey and Ramone parts while Jennica read Ally, the part she was auditioning for.

“Wow,” I said, after we’d read it through. “Your character sure doesn’t have a lot of lines.”

“It’s just the audition scene,” she replied. “It’s actually not a bad guest-star role. She winds up being a kleptomaniac who steals Joey’s wallet and his computer.”

“Still,” I said. “It’s kind of a step down, isn’t it? I mean, you were the star of
Paranormal Pam
.”

“For a nanosecond. They pulled it after three episodes, remember?”

“It
was
pretty bad,” I said.

She looked startled for a moment, then she burst out laughing. “You’re right. I wish my agent had been
that honest. Anyway, Violet, this is how the business works. Hot one day, not the next. But I’m an optimist. I know the tides will turn back in my favor at some point.”

Jennica found street parking. She spent a few minutes touching up her makeup and combing her hair, then we walked into the building.

The lobby was cool and spacious and full of potted palms and black leather couches. Jennica spoke to the receptionist, who told us to continue on to a room at the far end of the hall.

I admired Jennica’s walk as she headed down the hall in her strappy high-heeled sandals. She had such a confident stride. It was like Ashley’s walk, except all grown-up. And she had the expression to match. It said
look out world, here I come.

But when she entered the room, her expression changed. Crammed into the tiny space, on plastic folding chairs, were about fifteen Jennica look-alikes. They all had blonde hair. They all had fake boobs. They all had perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth. And they were all auditioning for the part of Ally.

“I’ll wait in the lobby,” I said.