The Actor and the Housewife (21 page)

Recall that Fiona was three.

Becky had expected marriage would smooth Carolyn’s rough edges. Then she had hoped motherhood would do the trick. Three children later, Carolyn was still the terror of the seven seas. Arr.

“My turn, my turn,” Carolyn said, sitting up in her seat. There was a visible cringe from the listeners. She adopted a high, squeaky voice in mockery and said, “ ‘I’m Becky, and I think I’m better than everyone because I have a movie star as a friend who I’m secretly in love with, and everyone in the family knows it except my husband, because he’s clueless.’ ”

Greg winced, Jerry groaned, Johnny stared at his plate. Becky’s father and two other sisters-in-law stood up and began clearing the table. Carolyn grinned, looking around. “Who’s next? Who’s next?”

Greg patted his wife’s shoulder. “I think we’re done with the game.”

Becky grabbed a stack of plates and made sure she walked at a casual pace to the kitchen. She was hand-washing when Diana joined her.

“Hey,” Diana said quietly.

“Hey.”

“You upset?”

Becky shrugged.

“I think Carolyn means well, but she—”

“I don’t care what Carolyn thinks.” Becky faced Diana, letting slug-sized bubbles slide off her hands and onto the kitchen floor. “I care what you think. Are you worried?”

“Not like she said, but the movie . . . I’ve read the screenplay. I mean, are you going to do it all, even that last scene where Hattie and Lionel kiss?”

“No, no, real actors never do their own kissing. The director hired Uma Thurman as my stunt kisser.”

“Becky . . .”

“It’s just acting. It’s harmless.”

It was true, they would have to kiss, but Becky hadn’t thought much about it. Her first screenplay,
Arm Candy
, had been more romance than comedy. But
Blind Love
was more comedy, the romance a device to bring out the laughs, so the prospect of being Felix’s love interest hadn’t troubled her. Truthfully, she’d barely considered that final scene. The screenplay simply said, “They kiss for the first time.”

“Don’t you think this could be dangerous? I know you’re not in love with him now, but don’t you think that pretending to be in love could needle those feelings inside you?”

“I would
never
risk my marriage and my family if that was the remotest possibility.”

“But how do you know?” Diana asked. “What if you don’t know until that moment? And even if it’s totally innocent, how will it look to your kids to see you in a movie kissing someone other than their father?”

“We’ve seen Mom and Dad kiss other people onstage.”

“Yeah, and it always bothered me. But even so, they were stage kisses, you know? They look more innocent than those love scenes in movies. It seems risky, to pretend you’re in love with Felix, to kiss him like that.”

“Professional actors do that all the time.”

“And look at their divorce rate.”

Becky set her jaw. Hot words waited on her tongue, but she couldn’t speak them to Diana—the only girl in the world who at age thirteen would turn down an offer for her own room so she could keep sharing with her little sister, who would claim fault for any calamity to keep her siblings out of trouble, who still remembered everyone’s birthday and sent homemade fudge. Curse her, but Becky adored fudge.

But she did say, “Mike and I will never get divorced. Never. There’s no possibility. Come on, Diana, you know me.”

“Yeah, I do. Which is why I’m so surprised by all this. You’re not the kind to get bedazzled by a movie star.”

“Ha! I’m not bedazzled by Felix, I promise.”

“I’m sorry.” Diana took a soapy dish from Becky and began to rinse. “I’m just trying to think of a reason you’d act this way. I’ve made myself sick thinking that I should be speaking to you about this instead of worrying behind your back. It’s not just me who’s concerned. Jerry bet that your friendship with Felix Callahan would lead to a broken marriage, and Greg said—”

Becky was storming out of the kitchen before her mind caught up to what her body was doing. Her brother Jerry was sitting on the couch eating gingerbread cake on a plastic plate. She caught him by the collar and yanked him to his feet, walking him out the door while he protested, the cake squashing against his sweater.

“Yo—what—whoa—wait . . . Bec!”

Greg was on the patio retying his shoe. She grabbed him by his belt and pulled him along with her other hand.

She didn’t let go of collar or belt until they’d reached the tire swing in their parents’ yard. Jerry grabbed the tire and held it before him like a lion tamer’s chair. Greg put both hands up as if to ward her off .

Greg was the cute one in the family. He even had dark, wavy hair like his Brady namesake. As a teenager, he’d been intolerable when his friends were around; but alone, Becky couldn’t have asked for a better brother, funny and fun and even kind most of the time. So his betrayal especially felt like a punch to the gut.

“Carolyn didn’t mean—”

“Forget about Carolyn, Greg. Worry about yourself.” Becky glared at Jerry. “You bet everyone that I would be unfaithful to Mike?”

“What? I didn’t bet anyone! I just said . . .” Jerry blinked.

“Said what?”

Jerry sighed. He was six foot four and wiry, but in the past few years he’d grown a round little potbelly. It rose and fell with his sigh. Becky often had to resist the urge to pat it.

“Okay, let me explain.” He glanced at Greg before folding his hands under his belly and taking a deep breath. “When I was bishop, I saw a couple of marriages torn apart because of infidelity, and no one set out
intending
to commit adultery. It was heartbreaking to watch, Bec. One of those guys—he was the last guy on earth I’d thought would betray his wife. But he let his guard down. He traveled for business and he started to be more friendly with a female co-worker, started to con-fi de in her things he didn’t tell his wife, eventually convincing himself that he’d fallen in love. He sobbed in my office, he was in so much pain, realizing what he’d done. Now he lives with the misery every day, trying to earn back his wife’s and kids’ trust. I’ve come to believe there are lines that married people just can’t cross, and one of them is friendship with members of the opposite sex.”

“I can appreciate that, but my friendship with Felix is different.”

“Maybe, but is it worth the risk?” Jerry blinked some more. This wasn’t surprising. His eyes were always either opened wide or blinking. It made him seem confused, or when he smiled, a little dim. The truth was he’d built a transistor radio from scratch at age eleven. He’d earned an engineering degree in three years while working full time at the local Radio Shack. His brain was a buzz saw—but that darn blinking . . .

“I mean, of course I trust
you
, Bec. I know you wouldn’t do anything. But I don’t trust Felix.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“Well, you said yourself he’s an atheist and—”

Becky made an outraged expression.
She
was allowed to mock Felix’s heathen ways, but Jerry certainly wasn’t. “So you think people who believe in God have the inside track on morality?”

“Well . . . I just mean . . .” Jerry sighed again, his little potbelly rising and falling. “Who told you what I said? Diana? I bet it was Diana.”

“No more betting.”

“I never bet—argh! I’m sorry. I really am. You have no idea.”

“Wait a minute. What do you mean you bet it was Diana? How many people have you talked to about this?”

Jerry and Greg exchanged looks again. They were getting really good at it.

“So, what, the whole family has been talking about this behind my back, taking bets on my infidelity and—”

“No, we—”

“—no one had the decency to talk to my face except Diana?”

Jerry shrugged. “We knew you wouldn’t decapitate Diana.”

“So . . .” Becky was afraid to ask. “Mom and Dad were part of the discussion too?”

“No, not Mom and Dad.”

Becky tried to hide her enormous relief by putting her hands in her pockets. “But
you
thought I would leave Mike for Felix.”

“No.” Jerry looked defeated, his head bowed over his chest as he glumly picked cake crumbs off his sweater. “I just thought you might be caught up in the . . . I don’t know, the glamour of it, and were being careless in a way that could lead to trouble. Growing up, my friends’ sisters were always gooey about the popular guys and cute guys, but you and Diana were never that way. So with this movie-star business, I haven’t known what to think.”

“And like he was saying,” Greg said, nudging Jerry and nodding with an I’m-on-your-team expression. “It’s not you we’re worried about. It’s Felix, because he’s a guy, and we know how guys can get. He may say he’s just a friend, but there’s no way he’d even be your friend if he wasn’t a little attracted to you.”

Becky put her hands on her hips. “You think a man has to be physically attracted to a woman in order to be friends with her?”

“No, no . . .” Greg said.

Becky reflected on Greg’s former “just friends” girl friends—pretty, pretty, gorgeous, not bad, pretty . . . “What about Diana’s friend Hannah?”

“What?” His look got cagey.

“You know, Hairy Hannah. She’s a nice lady, smart, not terribly self-aware, but nice. Could you be friends with someone who looked like her, mustache and all?”

“Uh . . .” Greg glanced over his shoulder in the general direction of his wife, who was too far away to hear, head-down doing yoga poses on the lawn. “Uh . . . I don’t know.”

Becky gasped. “Admit it!
You
couldn’t be friends with a woman you found unattractive!”

He leaned over, whispering. “Yes, okay? Yes, fine. That’s true. Which is why Felix makes me suspicious.”

“Well, not every man is as shallow as you, Gregory Ulrich Hyde. But even if Felix isn’t completely grossed out by my appearance, which would be a nice thing ultimately, that doesn’t mean he’s having impure thoughts about me.”

Greg shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I don’t believe that men secretly want to sleep with every woman they meet. It’s a load of hooey, and that kind of thinking practically gives permission to some men to be lewd and morally lazy. Felix has been happily and faithfully married for eight years.”

Greg shrugged again. “Okay, maybe I’m wrong, but maybe I’m not.”

Becky shuddered in her bones. She was not having a good time. “What about you, Jerry?”

Jerry startled, as if hoping she’d forgotten about his presence. “I . . . uh, I’m not attracted to anyone but my wife.”

“Would you have to be attracted to a woman in order to be friends?”

“Absolutely not,” he said staunchly.

That didn’t answer much. Jerry never even approached any non-related human females. Becky had often wondered how his wife had managed to get close enough to score a date, let alone an engagement ring.

“But regardless,” Jerry said, “you shouldn’t take this all so lightly, not when your marriage is at stake.”

Becky waited for the rising growl in her throat to calm before responding. “Jerry, know that I haven’t taken my friendship with Felix lightly. I’ve thought about it a lot, Mike and I talk often, we’ve been very cautious, and I really believe that Felix should be a part of our lives.”

Jerry nodded, and had the grace to look shamed. “You’re right, we should all just trust you. But you be careful too, okay? Mike’s my favorite brother-in-law.”

“You only have two.”

“Yeah . . . don’t tell Diana, but Steve’s boring.”

She laughed a little because it was true—good as gold, that Steve, but as exciting to talk to as a bowl of oatmeal.

“Are we good then? A little hug?” Jerry held out his long, skinny arms.

She brushed the gingerbread crumbs off his sweater before submitting to his bony squeeze.

Greg rubbed the top of her head. He wasn’t a hugger.

“Come to me next time,” she said against Jerry’s chest. “If you’ve got a worry, tell me, not Diana, okay?”

“Sure thing, little sister.”

“You got it, puny arms,” Greg said. “Careful there, Jer, don’t
suffercate
her.”

“Hmph.”

Mike watched her warily on the drive home.

“You okay? You haven’t fl ashed your choppers for a couple of hours.”

“Later,” she said, because she could see the glints of Fiona’s all-seeing eyes from the rearview mirror. That girl was way too observant for her own good.

After the kids were all tucked in, Becky and Mike sat on their bedroom floor with two forks and half a mixed-berry pie.

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

“I’m sure Carolyn needs professional help. And I’m sure I’d like to have a talk with Jerry and Greg,” Mike said, taking an extra-large forkful of pie in emphasis. “They both crossed a huge line.”

Becky took a very tiny, berry-sized bite. Losing the fifteen pounds had been way too hard to gain it back in one sitting. “Yeah, they did. But Greg isn’t so . . .” She tapped her head. “Sweet and fun, but not so . . . And Jerry’s my big brother. He was great at monitoring bullies for us on the playground—a horribly nerdy kid, but tall, and that blinking confused the enemy. I don’t think he grew out of wanting to protect me, in his own bizarre way.”

“Mumph,” Mike said, his mouth full of pie.

“Yeah, I agree.” Becky skewered a blueberry with one fork tine. “But you just think for a minute, just close your eyes and explore that aerodynamic brain of yours, and see if there’s any lingering doubt, any concern, any left-out feelings. And if there is, I’ll pull the plug right now and never point a finger of blame.”

“And you just prod around inside that huge heart of yours and down into your
liver
—”

“Cutie,” Becky couldn’t help saying—he usually couldn’t speak that word without wrinkling his nose as if smelling skunk three-days-dead.

“—and see if you have any complications when it comes to how you feel about Felix.”

Becky thought. She aimed to take it seriously and use that time to make sure she was being brutally honest with herself, verify that her liver wasn’t taking over her heart. She felt perfectly healthy in all organs. And there was Mike, so darling with berry pie smeared on his chin, making little liver jokes, his not-so-little hand resting on her leg, and . . . okay, she pounced him, right there on the floor of their bedroom. They did move the pie out of the way first. We don’t need to go into details, but the pie filling on Mike’s chin was soon all over Becky’s.