California Girls(108)

“I had to tell her what Glen was doing. I didn’t want her to be played.”

“He made you break her heart.”

Their brief exchange told Ali that his mother knew about his feelings for her. The entire situation was complicated and crazy and she honestly didn’t know what they must think of her.

“I’m sorry,” Ali began.

“No,” Steve told her. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, although it does sound as if we need to speak to our other son.” He glanced at his wife. “Marie?”

Marie smiled. “Now that we all know what happened, we can put the situation behind us. I always liked you, Ali. I still do. It’s going to take a bit for our mind-set to shift, but I think we’re up to it. Now why don’t you come help me in the kitchen and we’ll leave the men to talk about sports?”

Ali felt a rush of gratitude for the gracious acceptance. “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

*

Finola spent much of Thursday and Friday afternoon and evening pricing the items for the estate sale. She’d thought she might feel sad about seeing bits of her life put up for sale, but she was oddly excited about the fact that they would soon be gone. She was releasing the past and moving on. She wasn’t sure what she was moving on to, but steps were being taken.

She and Nigel were still playing nice. The paperwork had been signed to sell the house and the For Sale sign would go up in a week. They’d divided the bank accounts and were beginning the process of conscious uncoupling, as it was called these days.

Finola carried boxes into the garage. Her mother had borrowed folding tables from a friend for the smaller items. There were racks with clothing ready to be wheeled onto the driveway and stacks of books and games, along with boxes of old toys. Finola had written up a list of furniture available so people could know what was for sale before tracking into the house. Once items were sold, they would be crossed off the list.

Ali had taken care of advertising the estate sale. She’d used both social media and the Los Angeles Times website to let people know what was available. This being the land of Hollywood and movies, there would be a special interest in all the Parker Crane memorabilia, and she’d made sure to highlight that.

Zennie and Ali would be at the house by six thirty and the estate sale would start at eight. It would be a busy day. Finola was hoping to move everything on Saturday so they didn’t have to deal with a second day. With luck, all she and her sisters would have to do was run whatever didn’t sell over to a donation center. Once that was done, their mother would get the carpets cleaned and put the house up for sale.

Finola returned to the house for another load of boxes. Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and recognized her agent’s number.

“You’re working late on a Friday.”

“I am and only for you,” Wilma said dramatically. “Because you’re my favorite.”

“You say that to all your clients. We’ve talked about it and none of us believe you anymore.”

Wilma chuckled. “I’m all right with that. So, I have news.”

“Based on your tone, I’m going to assume it’s the happy kind.” Which she believed she was due for, she thought with a smile.

“It is. It’s fantabulous and I don’t say that lightly.”

“Tell me.”

“The network wants you to guest cohost the 10:00 a.m. hour of the national show. For a week.”

Finola walked over to the sofa and collapsed. Her heart thudded in her chest and there was a ringing in her ears.

“Are you serious? They’re asking me?”

“They are. I’ve been hearing rumors that one of the morning show hosts was leaving so everyone moves up a rung on the ladder, leaving a spot open for someone and I want that someone to be you. This is an audition, Finola. You need to kick ass that week.”

Going from AM SoCal to the ten o’clock hour of a network show was huge. Bigger than huge.

“I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it. When is it?”

“In three weeks. Can you be ready?”

“Yes. I’ll have to call my producers and let them know.”

They wouldn’t be happy but they also couldn’t refuse a network request.

“There’s more,” Wilma told her. “They’re going to let you produce a weeklong series, if you want. One segment per show per day. You pick the topic. It will be a lot of work, but you can show them what you’re capable of.”

“I’ll do it,” she said without considering any other option. Because she didn’t need to make a decision. “I already have a topic. Why marriages fail.”

Wilma gasped. “That’s insane. You can’t talk about that.”

“Why not? It’s relevant. Everyone knows someone who has gotten a divorce. They’ll be thinking about my marriage anyway. Why not get it out in the open?”

“That’s a gutsy move, Finola. It’s going to take a lot of strength.”

“I can handle it,” she said. Yes, it would be painful and yes, she would feel exposed, but she had a feeling she would feel a lot lighter and more free when she was done.

“I’ll email you the details,” Wilma told her. “Take the weekend to think about the topic and get back to me.”