That was important, wasn’t it? Living in the moment. Being mindful. Ever since they’d moved to Los Angeles, she’d felt a shift in her thinking, as if the City of Angels were alive with real angels. Angels who whispered in her ear at night, prodding her with their silken voices.
Be present.
Think.
Listen to your heart.
She had done just that this morning. Those angels had stopped her from rushing out to Brandon and telling him what she’d learned. Persistent little things with their fluttery wings and sage advice.
Be calm. Just be.
Telling Brandon would relieve her stress, but what would it do to him? Send him right over the edge, that’s what.
She exhaled and tried for a smile. It was their fourth anniversary. Reason to celebrate. They should be sipping fine champagne and laughing recklessly at their good fortune. But fine champagne wasn’t their reality. Hollywood was to blame. If that fickle city had welcomed him with open arms instead of devastating punches, sharing the news right now would require a toast. How she wished things would change for Brandon. He was such a good man. Even with the voracious eating, he was the sexiest man in the restaurant. The sweetest too. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was the lucky one he fell for all those years ago. The first time she’d laid eyes on him in their crowded high school hallway, she’d dropped her folder and stood motionless as her papers had drifted across the slick floor. He was opening his locker in the bank next to hers, his firm teenage biceps flexing as he spun the dial. His dark hair fell across his eyes, and he brushed it aside before suddenly turning to her. All she saw was startling blue. Her heart hammered against her chest as he swept over to gather the papers.
“I think these are yours,” he said, a captivating smile lingering on his lips. He straightened the papers before handing them to her.
She looked into his deep-blue eyes, and her legs became jelly. “Thanks,” she said in an uncharacteristic whisper.
“You’re welcome. I’m Brandon.”
“Embry.” Gathering herself, she said, “You’re new here.”
“I am. Maybe you can show me around after school.”
That was six years ago. After four years of marriage and two babies, he still had the power to make her heart race. That’s what got us into this predicament, she thought.
He swiped a napkin across his lips. “You’re not eating much, darlin’. Is your burger okay?”
“Yes! It’s good. Delicious,” she added, taking a quick bite to prove it. “I’m just enjoying this alone time with you,” she said around her food.
“Me too. We need more nights out, don’t we?”
“That would be nice,” she said. But it’s not going to happen. Oh dear. That was true, wasn’t it? An intoxicating cocktail of nerves and nausea shot through her stomach, and she reached for her mug of club soda. How long could she keep the news from him? It’d been only twelve hours, and it was scratching at her insides, begging to be revealed. She tried for a cleansing breath.
Inhale, exhale.
Better.
A hopeful smile lit his face. “I can’t wait for the day I can quit my bartending job. I swear, if I never have to make another dirty martini, I’ll die a happy man.”
“I want that for you too,” she said earnestly. “You work so hard for all of us. Maybe it’s time I start doing something. I can work from home building websites. There was a time I was really good at it.” Hmm. Her mind began gnawing at the possibility. That just might be the answer. He wasn’t the only one who could make money.
“You don’t have to. You’re busy enough with the kids. Don’t add more to your plate.”
Too late. Her mind traveled back twelve hours to when she sat on the cold bathroom floor and watched the two pink lines appear on the pregnancy test. Baby Number Three. Up until that moment, she’d never once experienced absolute joy and absolute fear at the same time. Another baby! The pressure of one more mouth to feed! She clenched the napkin in her lap but responded with a smile.
He lifted his glass as his expression turned serious. “To you, Em. I love you more each day.”
She touched her glass to his as their eyes locked. She knew he meant what he said with all his heart. It’s why she’d said yes when she was only nineteen. “I love you, too, Brandon Taylor. And,” she added, a sudden surge in her heart, “here’s to our babies.” She studied his face, hoping to see a glimmer of something that would reassure her that everything would be okay.
“To all of us.” They clinked glasses again, but he quickly returned his to the table and reached for his vibrating phone. He slid it from the pocket of his jeans and held it up. “I’ve gotta take this. It’s Adena.”
She waved a hand at him. “Go on. It could be important.” Adena was his agent and the direct link to his future success. To money in the bank and the end of their worries.
She watched, deep in thought, as he wove through the tables and exited to the parking lot. It seemed like just yesterday that she’d waved goodbye to her parents from Brandon’s blue Ford pickup, the bed stuffed with trash bags holding all their worldly goods, the cab filled with wild dreams. She’d imagined she was Marilyn Monroe as her scarf blew in the breeze of the open window. Brandon was going to make it big. After all, he’d won the hearts of their entire town when he’d played Conrad Birdie in their high school production of Bye Bye Birdie. Next stop: Hollywood.
Hollywood. Magical and golden and brimming with opportunity.
Mama had run behind the truck as they’d rambled down the long driveway, waving furiously as though she’d been trying to flag down a coast guard helicopter from a sinking ship. “I want my invite to the Oscars next year! Don’t forget about your family when you’re rubbing elbows with Ellen,” she’d shouted, a brave lilt in her voice as she’d wiped tears from her face.
Embry had laughed despite the lump in her throat. Mama was obsessed with Ellen. She fancied herself a modern woman, being that she openly adored a lesbian. She’d even taken to telling friends and strangers alike that she had no problem with gay marriage. “Whatever floats your boat!” she’d say as she passed the lemon bars at the community center bake sale or as she pointed to the cover of a tabloid while the supermarket clerk weighed her sweet potatoes.
Like her mama, Embry had thought they’d arrive to a land of endless possibilities. Embry squirmed in her chair, trying to get comfortable on the hard plastic. Brandon had been chasing his dream for four years now. Time had inhaled those years with virtually nothing to show for it. Oh, he’d worked as an extra in plenty of movies, but they’d come to learn that extra work was a long, dull stop on the road to nowhere. When he’d finally gotten representation after an agents’ night in his acting class, they’d dusted off the bottle of champagne they’d received as a wedding gift and chilled it on ice. Embry was almost certain that was the night Kylie had been conceived. And Carson had arrived just seven months ago. Their precious baby boy with Brandon’s blue eyes. Goodness! The next baby would arrive before he was even two. She reached for her soda water. The cool bubbles did nothing to calm the tumultuous nerves that rattled through her. Was it the timing of it all that was making her feel so unsettled? So guilty?