“Hmm… I guess that would be an advantage of living in the eighteenth century. The waxing bill would be drastically reduced.”
“Um… completely reduced. I think wax was only used for sealing letters and making candles back then. No toothpaste or any pesky toiletries either.”
She groaned. “Can you imagine only taking a bath once a week? I don’t know how those damsels in distress did it.”
“Well, I guess if everybody smelled bad, you just got used to it.”
“I guess so.”
Glancing outside again, I was a bit startled to see it snowing a little harder. “Les, I better go. Want to get back to the cabin before the storm hits. Be sure to tell Stanley how much I appreciate him letting me use it and the Jeep. It’s been a lifesaver.”
I heard the smile in her voice. “Uncle Stan was asking about you the other day. He’s happy you’re enjoying it so much.”
“I am. I might never leave. Talk to you again when all the snow melts.”
The concern was back. “How long will that take?”
I lifted a shoulder she couldn’t see as I gazed out the window. Surely it wouldn’t get as bad as Mrs. Pop said. “I have no idea.”
She sighed. “Love you, Z, and be safe. And remember…”
I knew what was coming next and reached up to touch the silver four-leaf clover pendant she gave me for Christmas two years ago. I never took it off the slim chain that hovered between my breasts.
Smiling, I said the mantra along with her. “We make our own luck. Own love. Own life. Own legacy.”
The words were like a warm hug. Leslie understood my insecurities and fears as much as I understood hers. When I got back to California, I was going to tell her the reason I so very desperately needed to get away.
I was beginning to understand that secrets grew like monsters when the closet they hid in remained forever closed. I trusted Leslie enough to open the door and maybe, just maybe, send them shrieking into the very back corner.
A punch of emotion hit me in the face, my sinuses and eyes burning with it. “Love you too, Les. Talk soon.”
Still holding the pendant between my fingers, I scrolled to my mom’s number, the happiness quietly fading away. I should have called Leslie afterwards so she would be the last voice I heard. Too late now. Inhaling deeply, I tapped the call icon.
“Darling!”
I closed my eyes as my mother’s high-pitched giggle vibrated in my head. “Hi, Cynthia. Sorry I missed all your messages. No cell reception where I am, remember?”
“Oh yes, that’s right. How is Colorado anyway?”
I didn’t even bother to remind her I was in Montana. “Very lovely and peaceful. I really—”
“I have the most exciting news,” she bulldozed over me, “I’m nearly bursting to share it with you. You’ll never guess what it is.”
She had a new boyfriend.
She had a new girlfriend.
She was getting married again.
Her newest lover had gifted her with some expensive trinket.
She was moving into the Playboy mansion.
Or a rich Arab’s harem.
I didn’t bother guessing out loud. The options were practically endless.
“I was cast in a new movie!”
My heart slammed into my toes. Of all the options, this was the least welcome. My stomach started to seriously churn, and I reached into my bag for an antacid. “Cynthia, please don’t—”
“It’s called ‘Cougar City’ and I’m the headliner. Just imagine, darling… me, Cyn Meadows, on the big screen again. Isn’t that exciting?”
No. Not at all.
And I didn’t need to remind her that the only big screen Cynthia Diane Meadows had ever been on was some dude’s PC monitor while he jacked off. I popped two antacids, the ulcers I’d developed as a teen reminding me of their presence.
Speaking quickly, she went on about the other “stars,” and how excited she was to work again. “There will be huge cross-country promotions, and Theo feels certain I’ll win another AVN award. You can come with me, darling. My fans haven’t seen you in years. They will absolutely adore you.”
I winced at the name. Theo Southerland, Mom’s smarmy agent. A man I loathed with every fiber of my being. I popped another antacid, thinking of the last time she dragged me to an Adult Video News award ceremony where she won best actress for “Beauty and the Dicks.” She’d also won an award for “Snow White and the Seven Cocks,” and “Little Red Ride My Face.” I didn’t think Walt Disney would approve.
Forcing my voice to stay calm, I raised my voice so she would hear me over her endless gushing. She was like this when she was manic. “Cynthia, are you taking your medication?”
The blessed silence lasted only a few seconds as she processed my question. “Darling, I don’t need medication.” Her voice went shrill. “Aren’t you listening? Cyn Meadows is working again! A role of a lifetime, really. How many adult entertainers get an opportunity like this? Can’t you be happy for me just this once?”
I hated her. I loved her. I felt so very very sorry for her.
I pressed my fist against my temple. Maybe I was bipolar too. “Just be careful. Okay?”
I could practically feel her eyes roll. “Of course, I’ll be careful. This isn’t my first starring role, you know.”
No, it wasn’t even her hundredth.
“Will you please go see Dr. Jackson?”
He was Mom’s psychiatrist, the man who attempted to keep her mid-way between the terrible depressive lows and manic highs she experienced. During one of her lows, she once confessed to how she used to heavily medicate herself before filming any scene she found distasteful. That an altered state supported her “acting abilities.” Dr. Jackson needed to know she would be working again and that she was off her medication. I would have to email him as soon as I was off this call.
She huffed out a breath. “There really is no need to bother that dear old man, darling. I’m feeling wonderfully energetic. I actually went to the gym and worked out for six hours to get ready for my reemergence.”
I sighed. She didn’t even see the manic frenzy behind that. I couldn’t help but wonder if cocaine or some other drug was helping to fuel it.
“And, darling…” This time, her voice shifted into a coaxing tone I knew too well. She wanted something from me. The hair bristled on the back of my neck, my skin tightening with gooseflesh. “Theo wanted me to let you know something—”
His name was like a spider under my skin. “I don’t care what that man wants, he—”
It was like she didn’t even hear me. “He said that he could make you rich too. Apparently, Mother-Daughter films are all the rage, and since we look so alike and could almost pass as twins, he thinks we could…”
I didn’t even hear the rest as the blood roared in my ears, drowning out the words. It wasn’t the first time it’d been suggested that I “work” with my mother.
“I know it would be awkward at first…”
Awkward? Having sex with my mother on camera would only be awkward?
“But we’ve always been so close, and it wouldn’t actually be anything other than acting.”
She had officially lost her mind.