The Hollywood Effect (28 page)

I kept writing, telling her all about the premiere, and parties, and life in Los Angeles. I didn’t mention the whole hooking up with Liam thing.
 

It was a complete change of pace coming back home. Obviously. Dad is doing okay. He’s opening some of his mail, and the chooks are all still alive, and he’s made me dinner a couple of times. I was a bit worried there for awhile. I had to pay a few of his bills for him because his electricity was about to be cut off. He hadn’t opened any of the letters. He’s still not going to his counselling sessions very often, but Mr Dennis has been coming over, and they seem to be helping each other. I don’t know if you remember her much, but Mrs Dennis died about 10 years ago. They were both actually out in the garden when I went over the other night. Garden’s still a total mess though. Sometimes hard to remember what it used to look like…
 

It would be great to have you home next year. Maybe we could go to that beach house in Port Fairy Mum loved or something. Or do you think that would be too hard for him? I don’t know.
 

Anyway,
 

Better go. Have a pile of assignments to go over, as usual. I should stop setting any…
 

Miss you,
 

Lots of love,
 

Jen xoxo
 

I hit send and then eyed the assignments. May as well get started. They wouldn’t mark themselves, and I had nothing better to do. I got through half of them before I wanted to rip my eyes out. Some of them were okay, a few were good, and one was brilliant, but about half of them made me wonder if I was speaking gobbledegook up the front of the room. Or written the instructions in a rare form of archaic French instead of modern English. I pushed them away from me with a sigh and made them Future-Jen’s problem.
 

The staffroom was almost empty. I could hear someone rustling some papers on the other side of the bookshelves, but apart from that I was alone. I kind of liked it. I sat there contemplating life outside the window for endless minutes, tapping my pen against my lips. What did I want out of life? To be happy was the main thing. I wasn’t concerned with being rich, or wildly successful. Just happy and comfortable. No dramas. No attention. My thoughts drifted to Liam. I missed him. More than I liked to admit. I didn’t want to miss him, not any more than I missed Dan, or Mel, or my sister.
 

I checked my watch. Time to go. Dad had invited me over for dinner again. He said he’d make risotto. He hadn’t made risotto since Mum had died, so I was tentatively looking forward to it. Risotto had always been one of Mum’s favourite meals.
 

 
Out of habit, I checked my emails again before leaving. The usual school bulletin emails, and a reminder for the English faculty meeting the next afternoon. Yawn. I quickly refreshed my personal email, even though these days I got more spam than real emails.
 

I blinked rapidly, palms instantly sweaty. Liam. I clicked on it, missing the first time.
 

From: L B
 

To: Jen Pike

Dear Jen,
 

Wow. That sounds formal. Maybe I should start again.
 

Hi Jen.
 

I miss you. I miss you a lot, and not in the normal friendly way that I used to miss you.
 

You’re an amazing, beautiful person and I want to be by your side. Always and forever. I guess it’s as simple as that. I know being with me isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but I honestly think we’re worth it. You’re worth it, and I’ll do anything to be with you. I mean that. Anything. You name it. I want to be with you. Properly.
 

Just think about it,
 

Love, your Liam.
 

I read it over again. And then again once more. I shut the laptop
 
and packed up before I could read it yet again.
 

“You seem preoccupied, love.”
 

I jumped, cursed and quickly turned the tap off. The jug I’d been filling was overflowing.
 

“Sorry, Dad. I was
 
just thinking…”
 

“Oh? Anything you want to talk to your old man about?”
 

I looked at Dad properly. He was actually focused on me. Proper, fatherly concern, like I hadn’t seen for a long time.
 

I shrugged. Dad just raised an eyebrow at me.
 

“I know I’m not as good as your mother to talk about stuff, but I hope you know you can still talk to me. If you ever want to.”
 

I blinked. Some dust must have gotten in my eye. I put the jug down and gave Dad a quick hug.
 

“Thanks, Dad.”
 

He turned, picked up a knife and started chopping up garlic. He didn’t say anything else. I poured myself a glass of water and drank it, wondering if I could actually talk to my father about this.
 

“How did you know Mum was the right woman for you?” I asked, eventually.
 

Dad put the knife down and took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Ah crap
, I thought. We usually avoided the topic of Mum these days.
 

“Your mother…” Dad started after a moment. “How did I know?”
 

I nodded, willing him to find the strength to go on and hoping I hadn’t just set him back months of progress.
 

“Your mother wasn’t like the other girls.”

“What do you mean?”
 

Dad picked up the knife again and continued preparing his ingredients, talking at the same time. A small smile flittered around his mouth as he spoke.
 

“She had dreams, ambitions. I liked that.”

“What, and the other girls didn’t?”
 

“Oh, I suppose they did, in their own way. But like I said, your mother was different. She lit up the room, as soon as she came in. I could almost feel it when she was around. And she could always make me laugh, no matter what else was going on. And the way she looked at me, well it felt like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.” He sighed. “I’m not explaining this very well, am I? Your mother was the one who was good with words.”
 

“Yes, well she was an author…” I said with half a smile. “You’re doing fine, Dad. Really.”
 

He was silent for a moment, contemplating an onion.
 

“I didn’t grow this,” he said.
 

“Uh, no… I bought it at the shop,” I said and wondered if there was something wrong with it.
 

“I always used to grow the onions. And the garlic.” He looked down the bench and waved his hand. “And all the rest of it.”

I just nodded, I didn’t know what to say.
 

“I’ve neglected the vegetable garden. Your mother would be very disappointed in me.”
 

“Oh, Dad…”
 

An hour later, we were seated out on the back patio, steaming bowls of risotto in front of us. Dad had left me stirring the risotto in the kitchen while he’d gone out and started attacking the weeds that had run rampant in the veggie garden over the past year or so. Dad was frowning out over the garden, muttering to himself about all of the work he needed to do. I almost felt like cheering. He hadn’t shown this much interest for a long, long time.
 

“Dad?”
 

“Yes, love?”
 

“What do you think of Liam?”
 

Dad’s eyes flashed from the overgrown garden to me.
 

“He’s a good lad,” Dad said slowly. “Is that what you mean? You know your mother and I both think… thought he’s wonderful.”
 

“Yeah,” I said glumly. “I think he’s pretty wonderful too.”
 

“Did something…” Dad stopped, seemed to think better of it, and then started again. “Did something happen on your trip?” he asked tentatively, not looking at me anymore.
 

I almost laughed. Dad was actually embarrassed.
 

“Kind of. Yeah. But…”

Gee, I wasn’t much better than my father. Definitely took after him and not Mum.
 

“I don’t know, Dad. He wants us to be together… like, together together.”
 

“He loves you?” Dad asked.
 

“Something like that,” I mumbled.
 

“And how do you feel?”
 

I shrugged, and looked out over the garden, avoiding Dad’s gaze.
 

“I don’t know,” I said after a moment. “I guess I’ve always felt something for him, but…”
 

“But?”
 

I sighed. “His life is crazy. He gets practically stalked by grown men with giant
 
cameras, girls come up to him all the time, people make up stupid stories about him… us…”
 

“I thought you stopped reading those silly magazines.”
 

“I did… until they started writing about me!”
 

Dad blinked. “They wrote about you?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Ignore them. Most people know they’re a pile of rubbish.”
 

I pushed the risotto around my bowl.
 

“If Liam wasn’t famous, and he asked you out, what would you do?”
 

I contemplated my risotto for a few minutes. “Say yes,” I said grudgingly after a minute.
 

“Well there you go,” Dad said, as if it were that easy.
 

“But -”
 

“No buts. Yes, his life is a bit intense right now, but it won’t always be. Liam’s a good lad, and I think you two could be very happy together. That doesn’t come along very often, Jennifer.”

We ate the rest of our meal in silence. I wondered if Dad was right.
 

I pulled my journal out when I got home and found my favourite pen.
 

What do I want out of life? To be happy is the main thing, I think. I feel like I’m standing on a precipice right now. If I choose Liam, then everything changes. Drastically. If I don’t choose him, and maybe see if anything develops with Will… then… well, life seems more predictable. We’re both teachers. Sensible people. Liam… his lifestyle - my lifestyle would be thrown upside down. I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe I should write a pros and cons list?
 

I guess I have a pretty big decision to make, but I feel almost paralysed. I feel like I’m standing on a precipice, about to fall off. How will I land? The decision I make now could affect me for the rest of my life. That’s a scary thing about your twenties that no one really points out. What university you choose (if any), what course you enrol in, which Halls of Residence you end up in, what job you apply for/accept… which boy to choose… all of these decisions could vastly change the direction your life takes.
 

If I were to see how things with Liam went… what would my life look like? Is it something I want?
 

What about Will? They’re both kind of hypothetical at the moment, but they’re both great guys and I could see myself being happy with either of them.
 

I’ve never really believed in the whole soul mate thing. Mathematically and logically it just doesn’t make sense. There are over seven billion people on this planet right now. Surely I could be happy with more than just one particular person? Surely I could make more than one person happy? When I was younger, I remember thinking how horrible it would be if your perfect soulmate was born 100 years before you. Or a thousand. What if the perfect person for me, the person I click with, feel secure, can laugh, support each other, make each other tingle even after ten/twenty years together… what if they were born in Ancient Egypt? Or prehistoric Britain? Or medieval Japan?
 

But then I think, we are such a product of our times and upbringing. I’d struggle to have a relationship with a devout Christian who literally believed in Genesis. How would I go with someone who believed in Ra and the Egyptian afterlife? Or someone who didn’t get my lame Harry Potter jokes? Or thought it was pointless educating women?
 

I’m rambling, I know. Liam and Will are both products of our time, as am I. We have similar political and social beliefs.
 

I just… I’ve had this stupid fluctuating crush on Liam for over a decade. Do I owe it to myself to see where it goes? What if Will, or someone else is my perfect match though?
 

Ugh.
 

“Jen, can I see you when you have a chance?” The school principal came up to me after briefing two mornings after dinner at Dad’s, looking grave. I’d spent most of briefing thinking more about Liam’s stupid email than focusing on what the vice-principal had been saying.
 

“Uh, yeah sure.” I mentally went over my timetable. “I’m not teaching period 2, does that work?”
 

Mr Buchanan nodded and then hurried off. I stared after him, heart rate instantly higher. I wiped my palms absentmindedly on my skirt.
 

Jacinta came up behind me. “Why do you look like someone just told you to jump off a cliff?”
 

I shook myself. “Oh. Nothing. Buchanan just asked to see me. He hasn’t done that since my second day to see how I was fitting in.”
 

Jacinta frowned after the retreating back of our principal and then shrugged.
 

“Maybe he just wants to see check in?”

“Or maybe I’ve done something wrong. All that stuff with Liam was too disruptive or some parents complained or I suck at my job or something horrible.”