One To Watch(56)

“Bea,” Julia said gently, “what do you want? Is it really such a scary question to answer?”

Bea’s head was swimming. She’d been so sure that staying professional on this show had been the right decision—to prioritize her goals for her career, just as she’d always done before. But when she thought of all the nights lying alone, longing for Ray, when she thought of the vicious lie that had been swirling in the recesses of her brain since high school, that she was too fat and too ugly ever to have the kind of love that seemed to come so easily to her family and friends, when she thought of how badly she’d wanted Asher to kiss her in that museum, and how terrified she felt that admitting her desires could only compound her humiliation, but, on the other hand, that not admitting them could seal her fate of being alone forever … It suddenly felt like she was only fighting against herself, and there was no possible way to win.

“I think I need to—excuse me.” She backed away from Julia. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

She told a producer she needed to use the bathroom, then took off toward the home she’d loved since childhood. After Bob and Sue got married, they’d taken on a new project every year, fixing up the shabby original house and eventually putting on multiple additions. Now, decades later, the place had a hodgepodge feel to it—a strange, cozy, mismatched maze that was always filled with family.

Bea ducked through the kitchen, warm and woodsy and packed with production staff and caterers, then slipped past the powder room and down one of the house’s crooked hallways. Two turns later, she opened a door still hung with a simple wooden sign that read Bea.

Bea’s room had been the same since childhood, lavender walls and a soft white carpet, a little twin bed and a whole wall covered in books.

Bea sat on the floor and drew her knees to her chest, breathing in the smell of the place. She closed her eyes, and she was crawling into bed at four o’clock in the morning after James kissed her, shoving her torn sundress in the wastepaper basket under her small white desk. She was here on senior prom night, reading another romance and dreaming of something more. Here again last Christmas, silently crying and missing Ray so much she thought it might kill her, wondering if there’d ever be a time in her life when she would visit her parents and need more than this one twin bed.

What would seventeen-year-old Bea think if she could see her future as a TV star with dozens of handsome suitors? And would her awestruck opinion shatter if she knew it was all a sham?

Bea buried her face in her knees and tried to breathe—just slowly, just anything—until she heard a soft knock on the door.

“Beatrice? Are you in there?”

She thought about keeping silent, but she figured the longer she stayed hidden, the more it would throw production into a tizzy, and the worse it would be when she eventually emerged.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m here.”

The door cracked open, and Bea saw Bob and Sue, their faces full of worry.

“Oh, Beatrice.” Sue flew into the room and knelt on the floor beside Bea, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “It’s been a terribly long day.”

Bea smiled through the tears she hadn’t even noticed were running down her face. “Yeah, Mom. A really long day.”

Bob stepped in quickly after Sue and shut the door behind him.

“No cameras?” Bea asked hopefully. Bob grinned.

“Nah, kiddo. We gave them the slip.”

“Darling,” Sue said delicately, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m …” Bea wanted to crack a joke to defuse the tension, to reassure her parents that she was really fine. But she couldn’t. Because she wasn’t.

“It’s a lot on your shoulders, this whole endeavor,” Bob said. “Must be a lot of pressure.”

Bea nodded—it was.

“We met a lot of nice young men today,” Sue offered.

“Yeah?” Bea tried to smile. “Who did you like, Mom?”

“I liked that Sam very much. Didn’t we like him, Bob?”

Bob nodded; they did.

“He’s so young,” Sue went on, “but then, that’ll be why he’s so optimistic, isn’t it? It was nice, talking with someone so hopeful. And that Wyatt was sweet. And so handsome! Of course, we heard from your brothers all about that Frenchman of yours. Is he the one you think you’ll marry?”

“Sue.” Bob’s voice had a warning note.

“Bob, she’s supposed to get engaged, that’s the point, it’s why she’s doing this! If I’m not allowed to ask about this now, when am I?”

“It’s okay, Mom. I know this is something you want, and I want it too. I hate that I keep letting you down.”

Sue opened her mouth to speak, but Bob jumped in first. “Now wait, wait a minute, Bea. Do you think your mother and I are upset with you for being single?”

“Not upset.” Bea’s voice cracked on the second syllable. “Just, disappointed, obviously. The guys all have their wives, and kids, and I’ve just never been able to … I don’t know. It hasn’t been in the cards for me. And I’m so proud of my career, of everything I’ve accomplished.”

“So are we!” Sue protested.

“I know, Mom. I know you are. But when I come here, and I see all of you together—I want this so much. And it just feels impossible. Like you’re all living on this island, this place where people know how to love each other, and no matter what I do, I can’t figure out how to get there.”