California Girls

Ali flinched. Finola immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry. That came out too harshly. All of it. I’m just surprised. It’s a huge step and there are legal ramifications to be considered.”

“Yes, there are,” Zennie said, her voice cool. “Hayes is a lawyer. We went over all of them and it’s covered. I might not be as calculating and self-absorbed as you are, but I’m not stupid. I know there’s a chance it could go badly but there’s also a chance everything will work out. I love Bernie and I want to help her and Hayes have a baby. It’s fine not to agree with my decision, but I would appreciate it if you’d at least respect it and not be so negative.”

They were both looking at her with such disapproval, Finola thought, feeling uncomfortable and a little attacked.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to upset you. It was a bit of a shock.” She cleared her throat. “Congratulations. You must be very excited.”

“I’m still getting used to the news,” Zennie admitted, relaxing a little. “It’s a lot to take in. Bernie got me a book to read.”

“What to Expect When You’re Expecting?” Finola asked eagerly, wanting to change the mood and not be the bad guy. “It’s the one everyone talks about whenever we’re doing a pregnancy segment on the show. It’s supposed to be brilliant.”

“That’s the one. The information is month by month, which makes it easier to read. So far I’m afraid to get started but I really should.”

Ali smiled at her. “I’m so impressed you’re doing this. It’s the most selfless act, right up there with donating a kidney.”

Zennie flushed. “It’s not like that.”

“It kind of is.”

Finola wanted to scream that she was impressive, too, and Ali had always liked her best. When they’d been kids, Ali had been her shadow. Ali had been the one to admire her and tell Finola how she was going to be a famous journalist, that she would go into dangerous places and do incredible investigative journalism. That had been Finola’s dream, too. When she’d gotten the job at the LA affiliate, she’d hoped to start digging deep into complicated stories that would change people’s lives. Instead she’d been the weekend anchor and then she’d gotten the job on AM SoCal and well, it had been a while since she’d reported on anything.

“I hope everything goes well for you,” Finola said, fighting a sour taste in her mouth.

Zennie smiled. “I’m sure it will. Now what’s for lunch?”

They ate the sandwiches and talked about everything from work to their mother’s determination to downsize to a beach cottage.

“Her commute to work is going to be awful,” Ali said. “Now she only has to go from Burbank to Sherman Oaks, but getting into the valley from the beach is going to be a nightmare.”

Finola had to agree. The whole “going against traffic” thing didn’t exist—not in LA.

“Maybe she’s going to quit her job and do something else,” Finola offered. “She never wanted to go into retail in the first place. Managing the boutique had never been her dream.”

Ali looked doubtful. “Do you think she wants to get into acting?”

Mary Jo had always talked fondly about her brief acting career, when she’d been young. She’d moved to Hollywood like so many other young women, hoping for a big break. Instead she’d gotten walk-ons and the occasional line in a movie. But at one of those jobs, she’d met a handsome young actor named Leo and they’d fallen deeply in love. They’d married quickly and Finola had come along. Leo’s career had taken off and Mary Jo had been happy to take care of her daughter and go on location with Leo. When he’d unexpectedly passed away, Mary Jo had been devastated.

Finola knew all that secondhand. While in theory, she’d been around for some of it, she didn’t remember her biological father. She had no flashes of memory or bits of recollections. She’d seen the pictures her mother had kept and had listened to the stories and watched his movies, but for her, Leo was nothing but a story her mother told and an actor she saw in old movies.

“She doesn’t talk to me,” Zennie said cheerfully. “Maybe she could get a job managing a boutique by the beach. There are lots of stores there. She has her theater group she hangs out with. They might be able to help her find something closer to home.”

“I’ll let you discuss that,” Ali said with a grin. “I’m not brave enough to have that conversation with Mom.”

“Not me,” Zennie said, pointing her fork at Finola. “That would be your job. You two are the tight ones.”

“That’s right.” Ali shrugged. “You and Mom, Zennie and Dad and me by myself.”

Zennie bumped shoulders with her. “We all love you, little Ali.”

Something flashed in Ali’s eyes, then disappeared. “Yeah, that’s what I hear. Anyway, let’s not plan her life for her. I say we leave her to figure it out herself.”

“Good idea,” Finola said quietly, thinking how estranged she felt from her entire family. It was as if she only knew them from a distance.

When her sisters left, she cleaned up the kitchen, then walked into her bedroom. Her room was a mess, with her computer open on the table and clothes scattered everywhere. She told herself she should clean up but instead collapsed on the bed and rolled onto her back. She pulled an old, tattered teddy bear to her chest and wrapped her arms around it as tears spilled from her eyes and rolled into her hair.