***
I decide to go see Madeleine in person, and drive up to her house at lightning speed, entering the neighborhood where my uncle used to live. Memories flood my mind of the times we spent together and again the tears that won’t stop flowing down my cheeks.
Drying my face, I grab my purse and walk up the driveway. I had heard Madeline and her husband divorced a few years ago and I also know that Levi hit the road earlier this year with his band. He’s running small circuits—clubs mostly, but doing okay from what I’ve heard.
My heart thumps uncontrollably as I ring the bell. The door swings open and there she stands. She looks as beautiful as she always did.
“Mrs. Grayson,” I smile.
Her eyes widen as soon as recognition crosses her face. “Aerie, oh, Aerie, my dear. I’m so glad you decided to stop by. Come in.”
I step inside and a shiver runs through me when I see the same couch I so easily gave myself up on.
“How are you, Mrs. Grayson?”
“Aerie, please call me Madeline.”
I nod.
“Would you care for some coffee or tea?” she asks.
“Tea, please.”
We make small talk while she prepares a pot of tea and then we sit outside on the deck. The cool breeze sweeps over us and I let it wrap itself around me, breathing life into any otherwise lifeless day. I chew my thumbnail, not sure of where to start.
Pouring the hot water into a small white porcelain cup, she says, “I know you’ve been contacted about the script changes. Brett told me he was sending them on to you.”
“Yes. I have. Is it true?”
She takes a shaky breath. “Yes it is. I loved your uncle very much and we would have been together if it weren’t for the fact that he was afraid of his mental health.”
I select a teabag from the tray in front of me. “Madeline, I’d love to hear about your relationship with him, if you don’t mind sharing.”
Sipping our tea as the ocean dances before us, we sit for hours and she tells me how she fell in love with my uncle the first time she met him. How she and her husband, although married on paper, lived separate lives. How she wanted to divorce him and be with my uncle, but my uncle forbade her from doing that. She told me it wasn’t until he was diagnosed with cancer that he told her why. She had always thought he loved being a bachelor, the freedom to go wherever he wanted and be with whomever he wanted, but that wasn’t it at all. He was afraid his depression would take a turn, like his mother’s had, and that she’d be stuck taking care of him.
Another wave of tears escaped me and I gave up trying to stop them. I was able to see my uncle through her eyes as a man who loved a woman he was afraid to have. A man who distanced himself from her out of fear of what he might become. Her words tore at me—I had done everything my whole life to avoid ending up like my grandmother and now it was those very same decisions that were sending me down that same path.
When Madeline excused herself to refill the teapot, I quickly pull out my phone and type a text to Jagger.
I really need to talk to you. Tell me where I can meet you.
I wait for a response, since he usually answers immediately. But there is none.
“Here we go,” Madeline says, setting the silver tray down.
We talk a little while longer as I listen for the text that never comes. She tells me why she and my uncle never told me about their affair. She explains that my uncle didn’t want me to think badly of him for being involved with a married woman and he was afraid that my parents might not let me spend my summers with him if they knew.
She also tells me how hard it was for her when he died—how she’d lost her best friend and wanted so much to talk to me. But she promised my uncle she wouldn’t. She finally divorced her husband and has refused to move because she feels close to my uncle here.
“The only reason I called you today is because I knew the biographers over at Warner Bros. were writing me into their movie. They promised to change my name and alter the details if I’d share the story with them.”
I look at her stunned. “Did you?”
“Fuck, no. I told them to go fuck themselves.”
My tears turn into laughter—she says fuck like my uncle used to. I grab her hand. “Madeline, I think you should share your story. It’s a true love story, not the one they’re fabricating and I’d be proud for the world to see it.”
With both of us sobbing, she nods her head and agrees.
Shortly after the sun set my phone beeped. I stole a glance. A text from Dahlia—I’d read it later. I give Madeline my full attention as she tells even more stories about my uncle. But when her voice starts to get shaky, I know we are both emotionally drained. As I stand to leave, she pulls me to her and hugs me tightly. “You’re a beautiful woman, Aerie. Your uncle would be so proud.”
“Thank you,” I manage, staring out into the ocean I haven’t swum in since that last summer.
She studies me. “Aerie, this isn’t my business, but I want you to know that after your uncle died, Levi had a tough time as well. He grew up with your uncle. And he told me what happened between the two of you.”
My pulse pounds as embarrassment rushes to my cheeks.
“I’m only telling you this because I know he feels so much regret for having hurt your feelings. He told me he told you he used you. Aerie, I didn’t ask for details. But it wasn’t true. There are some things a mother doesn’t want to know, but he did tell me what he said to you. Your uncle helped him every chance he could, but Levi wanted to make it on his own. He loved it when your uncle would sing his praises, but would never take his help. I urged him to often; after all, everyone needs a helping hand, but Levi was stubborn . . .”
I stop listening as I try to remember that summer. How much he worked and how odd I thought it was that my uncle could only help him get gigs at small functions. It all made sense now and, not that it should matter anymore, but knowing that he refused my uncle’s help does matter.
After spending the day with Madeline, I drive away from the south bluff feeling a sense of peace I’ve never felt before. I think it comes from knowing my uncle was happy—that he had found true love. His version may not have been like in the movies, but it was the way he chose to live his life and I can accept that.
It’s dark as I drive down US 1. I glance over at the ocean and up to study the stars, shining like little diamonds. Suddenly, I remember my grandmother reading me a book and after closing it glancing up at the sky, “See those shining lights?” she asked. “Whenever you’re sad, wear something that sparkles and think of the stars and the sadness will be gone.” My hand moves to clutch the colored glass necklace that hangs around my neck, one of hers, and I suddenly understand why she had such a vast collection—she was looking for happiness with them.
But I don’t have to look for happiness in her costume jewelry collections; I have someone who makes me happy. I just have to make it right with him. I’m not sure I can fix what I’ve broken between Jagger and me, but I know I can help him. So I pick up my phone and select Brett Hildebrandt from my list of contacts.
“Hello?” he answers on the second ring.
“Brett, it’s Aerie Daniels. I got your package yesterday.”
I explain that I won’t hold the script up in court as long as he does two things for me. First is to tell the real love story that my uncle and Madeline Grayson shared and second to allow Jagger Kennedy to come back in and audition for the role before he makes his final selection. Of course, he agrees to both.