might head over there tomorrow.” My father paused. “Can you come?”
“I can’t. I’m shooting tomorrow and—”
“That’s fine, son. You’ve already done so much. Dealing with this all on your own. Your mom and I, we’re so sorry about that.”
“Dad, I told you to stop apologizing. How is mom?”
“The same. When she’s not at the church she spends a lot of time in her office.”
“Is she still mad at me?”
“She’s not mad at you, Patrick. She’s just… disappointed. In everything. She said you accused her of being a racist.”
“That’s not entirely accurate, but she doesn’t approve of my girlfriend because she’s black.”
“Chloe is lovely—”
“Exactly. She is. And that should be all that matters.”
“Son, life is never simple. It’s hard and it’s complicated, and it will knock you on your ass more times than you can count. Your mother is just worried that you’re opening yourself up to hardship. It’s what parents do. One day you’ll understand.”
This wasn’t the conversation I’d planned on having. My relationship wasn’t what they needed to concern themselves with. I felt childish even bringing it up. It was best for everyone if the family focused on the real crisis.
There was a knock on my dressing room’s door. “Dad, I have to go. I’m at the studio. Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes?”
“Of course.”
I answered the door and took my new script from the production assistant. I thanked her and , before I could shut the door, an intern arrived to retrieve my laundry bag. Left with nothing else to do, I headed home.
After a quick nod to the security guard at the front desk, I braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door with my shoulder. Some days there would be fans outside the studio hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite actors, or maybe score an autograph and photo. Not this night. Christmas was around the corner so it was safe to assume people had better things to do. Besides, it was ridiculously cold, so much so that I opted for a cab instead of the short walk to our apartment.
***
The next night I was in another cab, headed to Jay Robeson’s party. Robeson had been a producer on Shining Moments for over twenty-five years. His annual holiday party was a tradition highly anticipated by the entire cast and crew.
“You okay?”
Chloe, seated next to me, placed a hand on my thigh. I covered her hand with my own and gave it a squeeze. I wasn’t okay, but I refused to ruin our night out with talk of Charlotte or my mother’s objections to our relationship. I didn’t even know how I would bring up the latter to Chloe.
“I’m great.” I leaned over and kissed Chloe’s neck. She smelled delicious and looked even better. “I’m looking forward to showing you off tonight.”
“Mmmm. Good thing I feel like being shown off.”
She wasn’t kidding. Under her black fur-lined trench she wore a red dress that looked like it was made for sin. I watched as she crossed her lean legs.
“You look beautiful.” I kissed her again, this time on those full, soft lips.
“Keep that up and I’ll tell the driver to turn around and take us back home.”
“Fine with me,” I said, slipping a hand between her thighs. Chloe uncrossed her legs in response, but sighed.
“Too late.”
We’d arrived at the swanky apartment building overlooking Central Park. A doorman assisted Chloe out of the cab and we made our way to the top floor. The apartment was what you would expect from that neighborhood: two stories, immaculate hardwood floors, high ceilings, an amazing view of the park, and expensive art lining the walls. Our host had hired wait staff for the event and, after our coats were taken, champagne flutes were placed in our hands. The apartment was abuzz with conversation, laughter, and instrumental holiday
“I can’t. I’m shooting tomorrow and—”
“That’s fine, son. You’ve already done so much. Dealing with this all on your own. Your mom and I, we’re so sorry about that.”
“Dad, I told you to stop apologizing. How is mom?”
“The same. When she’s not at the church she spends a lot of time in her office.”
“Is she still mad at me?”
“She’s not mad at you, Patrick. She’s just… disappointed. In everything. She said you accused her of being a racist.”
“That’s not entirely accurate, but she doesn’t approve of my girlfriend because she’s black.”
“Chloe is lovely—”
“Exactly. She is. And that should be all that matters.”
“Son, life is never simple. It’s hard and it’s complicated, and it will knock you on your ass more times than you can count. Your mother is just worried that you’re opening yourself up to hardship. It’s what parents do. One day you’ll understand.”
This wasn’t the conversation I’d planned on having. My relationship wasn’t what they needed to concern themselves with. I felt childish even bringing it up. It was best for everyone if the family focused on the real crisis.
There was a knock on my dressing room’s door. “Dad, I have to go. I’m at the studio. Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes?”
“Of course.”
I answered the door and took my new script from the production assistant. I thanked her and , before I could shut the door, an intern arrived to retrieve my laundry bag. Left with nothing else to do, I headed home.
After a quick nod to the security guard at the front desk, I braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door with my shoulder. Some days there would be fans outside the studio hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite actors, or maybe score an autograph and photo. Not this night. Christmas was around the corner so it was safe to assume people had better things to do. Besides, it was ridiculously cold, so much so that I opted for a cab instead of the short walk to our apartment.
***
The next night I was in another cab, headed to Jay Robeson’s party. Robeson had been a producer on Shining Moments for over twenty-five years. His annual holiday party was a tradition highly anticipated by the entire cast and crew.
“You okay?”
Chloe, seated next to me, placed a hand on my thigh. I covered her hand with my own and gave it a squeeze. I wasn’t okay, but I refused to ruin our night out with talk of Charlotte or my mother’s objections to our relationship. I didn’t even know how I would bring up the latter to Chloe.
“I’m great.” I leaned over and kissed Chloe’s neck. She smelled delicious and looked even better. “I’m looking forward to showing you off tonight.”
“Mmmm. Good thing I feel like being shown off.”
She wasn’t kidding. Under her black fur-lined trench she wore a red dress that looked like it was made for sin. I watched as she crossed her lean legs.
“You look beautiful.” I kissed her again, this time on those full, soft lips.
“Keep that up and I’ll tell the driver to turn around and take us back home.”
“Fine with me,” I said, slipping a hand between her thighs. Chloe uncrossed her legs in response, but sighed.
“Too late.”
We’d arrived at the swanky apartment building overlooking Central Park. A doorman assisted Chloe out of the cab and we made our way to the top floor. The apartment was what you would expect from that neighborhood: two stories, immaculate hardwood floors, high ceilings, an amazing view of the park, and expensive art lining the walls. Our host had hired wait staff for the event and, after our coats were taken, champagne flutes were placed in our hands. The apartment was abuzz with conversation, laughter, and instrumental holiday
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