Invisible(64)

“I went to the movies every week from the time I was nine, hoping to see you. I never did,” Antonia said coldly. She was still shocked that she was actually talking to her mother.

“I had a screen test in L.A.,” Fabienne said proudly. “But nothing ever happened from it. So you’re not acting anymore?”

Antonia shook her head. “I’m not an actress and I don’t want to be.”

“Too bad.” Fabienne looked disappointed. “And you don’t know anyone I could call? I borrowed a friend’s truck, when I read you live here. I didn’t know how to contact you before.”

“You could have called my father.”

“Yeah, he was pretty pissed at me.”

“He still is. Thank you for your visit, Mrs. Wheeler.” Antonia decided she’d had enough of her.

“Yeah, nice to see you. You should keep acting. You’ve got my talent.” Antonia didn’t comment as Fabienne teetered to the door on her stilettos. She was only fifty, but she looked older. Drugs or booze in the last eighteen years probably hadn’t helped either.

Antonia watched her make her way through the gravel on tiptoe to her beaten up truck, and she could feel the air go out of her, as though someone had pulled a plug. That was the woman she had longed to see in the movies as a child, and had gone to the movies every week hoping to catch a glimpse of, and had wanted to see in L.A., just once to ask her why she had walked out on her. It was easy to see why now. It was because she was so obsessed with herself and out of touch with reality that all she wanted from Antonia was help getting into the movies. Twenty years later, she was still chasing the same dream, and only interested in herself.

    She heard the truck speed away on the gravel. She could see that Fabienne must have been pretty, in a cheap, sexy way, when she was a young woman, but there was nothing left now, except too much makeup, a see-through blouse, and cheap perfume. She knew her father would have been mortified if he could have seen her. She almost wanted to call and tell him, but she didn’t want to start anything with him. She had answered his condolence letter after Hamish died, but she hadn’t heard from him since. He was probably embarrassed because Lara had left him.

She called Lara as soon as the disreputable-looking truck passed through the front gate. It made her think that they should start locking it and install an intercom system. She didn’t want any more visits like that one. But in a way, it freed her. It was like finding your birth mother if you were adopted, after years of fantasizing about her, and discovering that she was someone you really didn’t want to know, let alone be related to. Her father had been no peach, but her mother was horrifying, as much for what she wanted from Antonia as how she looked, and the low life she must have led. She hoped she never came back again, but doubted she would. The visit had given her nothing, and no encouragement for the future.

When she called Lara, she told her about the visit and she was stunned.

“Did she try to hug you or anything?”

“Thank God she didn’t, I’d have smelled of cheap perfume for a week. Actually, she was pathetic. I don’t know where she crawled out of, but it can’t be a good place.”

    “I’ll tell Brandon if you want me to. It will embarrass the hell out of him.”

“No, don’t bother. I’m not dying to see him either. I have enough on my plate.”

She went back upstairs to her office then, to work on her screenplay. She had a lot of work to do, but she had nothing but time now. She forced the image of her mother from her mind, which took some doing. And the worst of all was her father thinking she was like her.





Chapter 17


It took Antonia a year to finish her screenplay and get it just exactly the way she wanted it. Her last movie had come out by then, but she never went to see it. Fred had invited her to the premiere, but she didn’t want to go. It would just upset her. She would remember every scene with Hamish directing her. It would make her too sad to see it.

Hamish had been gone for two years by then. Dash was three and Olympia was a year and a half and had just started walking. She was still difficult and not the sunny baby Dash had been.

Antonia sent her screenplay to Fred, and warned him first. He said he couldn’t wait to read it. She hadn’t seen him in months, but he called regularly to see how she was.



* * *



—

Fred called her as soon as he read her screenplay and said he loved it. He said it was a masterpiece. He was going to see what he could do to get it produced. It took him six months to find a group that was interested, some of them old associates of Hamish. They called him back as soon as they read it, and he called Antonia immediately.

    “They’ll do it,” he announced victoriously. “And they agreed to let you direct it.”

“Fantastic!”

“It’ll probably take a while for them to get the money together and start picking the actors they want. You’ll be part of that, of course. We’re not heading for the studio and cashing checks yet.”

“I’m in no hurry. I can wait.”

In the interim she drove Dash to school every day, played with Olympia, and spent all her time with them. Olympia had never been an easy baby, and wasn’t an easy toddler. It was just her personality. Antonia prayed that she wouldn’t turn out like Fabienne.