She breathes a sigh and tells me how last fall, she nearly landed the lead in Paper Oceans – an upcoming film that has Hollywood buzzing, even pre-production. Impressed, I have no problem commiserating at the loss, especially since it went to Caren Castleberry, one of the industry’s most talentless, well-connected twits.
‘That sucks. Don’t they know they need someone who can express multiple emotions for that role? She’s basically got one expression.’ I switch on the razor and start a quick once-over.
‘I know, right? If they did a graphic representation of her accessible emotions, they could use the same f**king photo for all of them. The most accurate one would be labelled stoned.’
‘Speaking of – didn’t she just break her pelvis or something, drunk skiing?’
‘Yeah. She totally did. Pelvis and both legs, according to my agent.’
‘Ouch. That’ll put her out of commission for a few weeks … for many things.’
‘Gross, Reid. Jesus.’
‘I’m just sympathizing!’
She huffs a breath. ‘Anyway – and this is totally classified because it’s not on paper yet – I got the role.’
‘Wow. That’s awesome.’ I recall her I don’t want your opinion speech, and I’m guessing this isn’t the dilemma she felt compelled to share. ‘So what’s the problem?’
‘Filming starts in Australia. This summer.’
Ah. Talk about suck-ass timing. ‘Brooke, you might not get another shot at a film like this – a role like this. If this is the career direction you want, you don’t have a choice.’
‘See, that’s the thing. I do have a choice. And I think … I have to turn it down.’
My mouth hangs open for a moment and the razor buzzes in my hand. ‘You’re going to turn it down? Because of – what you’re doing in Austin? Isn’t there some way around flat-out turning it down?’
‘I don’t see a way. I have to be here. In the US. I can go back and forth between Austin and LA, as often as needed, but I can’t adopt a child and then disappear to the land down under for a month or however long – if the court would even allow me to do that, which it won’t.’
‘What do you expect me to –’
‘I told you I don’t expect even an opinion from you, and I was serious. I just need to talk this out. Fuck. I mean – God, I’m going to have to stop saying that – Stan also wants me back for the season finale of Life’s a Beach. I think I can work that into an offer for next season.’
‘Speaker.’ I set the phone on the counter and start shrugging into my interview outfit. ‘Let me get this straight, Brooke – you’re going to throw away a major role in a possibly Oscar-worthy film to be on a teenage cable version of Baywatch? Have you completely lost it?’
‘If this opportunity hadn’t come back around –’
‘If the opportunity hadn’t come back around, your agent would still be looking for film roles, right? Hearts Over Manhattan is coming out in three weeks – I’ve seen clips, by the way, and it’s going to kill at the box office. You’ll get auditions for more romcoms from that alone. But I can’t believe we’re even talking about that because you can’t be serious that you want to turn down this role.’
‘It’s not always about what I want. At least, not any more. If I mean to be his mother, then he has to start coming first.’
‘That doesn’t mean throwing away your career.’
‘I don’t consider this to be throwing my career away –’
‘Okay, crippling it, then. This whole thing could hit a brick wall, where either you or the court says it’s a no-go. What then? What if you turn this role down for nothing?’
She’s silent, and I don’t know if I’ve landed a point or pissed her off.
‘This is why I didn’t want your opinion.’
Guess the answer is pissed her off.
‘What, so you wouldn’t have to hear the truth?’
‘No, so I wouldn’t have to hear how people talk themselves out of being the parents they should be. The excuses. The selfishness. Don’t you think I want to play Monica?’
‘Yes, I think you want it – that’s exactly why I’m arguing –’
‘Reid. He needs me.’ She chokes up. ‘He needs me, and I’m not going to f**k this up – dammit, I mean screw this up – not this time. I’ve never done anything in my whole life that wasn’t selfish –’
‘Brooke,’ I sigh, lacing my black Prada boots. ‘Five years ago, you were a pregnant teenager. You moved to Texas. You had him without your parents’ support, without my support. I don’t know why you made that inadvisable choice, but you did. That wasn’t selfish.’
‘You’re wrong. It wasn’t some moral judgement or an unselfish choice – I just knew that when we made him, I loved you, and I couldn’t … there was no other choice for me. That decision was about me, and I can’t pretend otherwise.’
Weeks ago, when she told me that he was unequivocally mine and I finally believed her, I was dumbfounded. But this kicks the breath out of me. When we made him, I loved you.
‘There’s no choice for me this time, either. Thanks for listening, Reid. I know what I have to do, but I’m not going to tell Janelle right away – she hasn’t even got the Paper Oceans offer yet. I think I can get through the premiere of Hearts Over Manhattan first. God, she’s going to go off like a roman candle.’