Melody’s voice over the phone was determined and calm. “We can sue him, Lane. The lawyers are looking into it. Tony thinks we have a strong case.”
“No!” Delaney gasped. She opened a drawer, looking for a corkscrew. That wine wasn’t going to open itself. “I don’t want Tony the lawyer looking into it. I don’t want to go to court. That will only keep this in the news that much longer.”
“So you’re just going to do nothing but sit on your ass inside some igloo in Michigan? That’s crazy.”
“No, I’m not just sitting on my ass. I’ve decided to use this time to better myself.”
“Better yourself?” If disbelief had a ringtone, it sounded just like that.
Delaney’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I had a lot of time to think about things while I was driving across the country, and I realized I don’t know how to do much other than accessorize. So, if I’m going to have all this time to myself, I should make the most of it, maybe try to develop some skills that are outside of my comfort zone.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, I’m learning how to knit.”
Melody’s burst of laughter was not encouraging. “Knitting? That’s outside your comfort zone, you crazy risk taker?”
“Shut up. You’re missing my point. I just want to try some new things, and maybe find a way to offer something useful and tangible to the world. I found a place online where I can donate knitted baby hats for newborns.”
Delaney could have run a 5K in the time it took for her sister to respond.
“You’re knitting . . . baby hats?”
“Yes.”
“Girl, you have lost your frickin’ mind. I’m calling Mom’s psychiatrist.”
“I haven’t lost my mind. Maybe I’ve finally found it, and now I understand that I should be doing something to contribute to the greater good.”
Her sister’s laughter turned into a sniff of impatience. “OK, then. How about you contribute to the greater good of our family and come home? We need you here. You’re the best one on the show.”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course I’m not the best one.” Was she? The best one?
“Yes you are, Lane. You’re the funniest and we need you or the ratings will tank.”
“Did Mom tell you to say that?” Delaney loved her parents, but emotional manipulation was Ginsu sharp at the Masterson household, and this television show had brought out their most desperate qualities. Everyone but her seemed determined to stake their claim in the public’s consciousness.
“No, she didn’t,” Melody answered. “This is coming from me. So just think about that, OK? This isn’t just about you. It’s about the whole family.”
The whole family? Really? How had things turned so topsy-turvy that the whole family was relying on her? The ditzy baby of the family? The one with the sex tape? Her father was Jesse Masterson, eighties pop icon with three platinum records to his name. Her mother was Nicole Westgate, a Victoria’s Secret model turned luxury-soap maker, and Delaney’s sisters were both better looking and far more stylish than she was. They didn’t need her to make Pop Rocks a successful show. She just wanted to go back to being anonymous. But she had signed a contract. Her failure to show up for filming could impact them all.
She pulled open another drawer. Corkscrew. Corkscrew. Please let there be a corkscrew.
“OK, I’ll keep that in mind, Mel. But in the meantime, promise not to tell anyone where I am? Please? I need this time.”
Melody’s sigh was emphatic. “Fine. And for what it’s worth, if I see Boyd Hampton on the street, I’m going kick him in the groin so hard his nuts pop out of his nostrils.”
Delaney’s laughter was loud inside the diminutive kitchen. She’d needed that laugh. “Please do, and then ask him why the hell he did this to me after all this time. I haven’t seen him in five years.”
“Well, that’s no mystery. He did it because your fame is exploding. He wants his slice of your fifteen minutes, and the tabloids probably offered him a ridiculous amount of money for that tape. But you know, if you went on TV, you could ask him yourself. I’m sure he’ll be watching.”
Delaney yanked open the final drawer. Yes! A corkscrew. “Nice try, Mel. I’m not going to talk about this in public. Ever. Not ever in the whole future of everness.” She could not feel more decisive about anything in her life. And she needed to end this phone call, because opening the wine required both hands. “Listen, I really do have to go because my landlord is upstairs fixing the shower and I want to go see what’s taking him so long. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”