Falling into Forever (Falling into You) - By Lauren Abrams Page 0,34
and play video games when we went to Sam’s father’s beach house in North Carolina. She used to say that as long as they didn’t beat the game, they would still be hammering away on the controllers when we woke up. I usually went the conservative route and bet on 3 or 4 am. She always won.
It hadn’t all been sunshine and rainbows, of course. After Ben died and I was released from the hospital, he and Marie spent two months with Grace and me, holed up in Ben’s father’s house on Lake Geneva in Wisconsin, and we had played endless rounds of Chutes and Ladders and Pretty Pretty Princess and Barbies. They had saved my life. My sanity. He and Marie had been married there, in our garden, because Sam hadn’t wanted to waste any more time. Or, as he asked me, who knew if there was time to waste?
The aimless playboy had also turned into something of a workaholic. He had eventually given in and followed his father into the music business. To anyone who would bother to listen, he described his job as being little more than an overpaid nursemaid who had to follow a bunch of half-naked assholes around to make sure that they didn’t get caught doing drugs in foreign countries. In reality, he did something with promotion and marketing, at least until his father had retired a few months before, leaving Sam the apartment and a position as the head of the pop division of Evenstar Records. Even though Sam is always moaning about the lack of music in the music industry, I know he loves it.
Sam glances up again at the picture of Ben and Grace and grins. “How’s my princess?”
“Obsessed with her Uncle Sam’s new band, 4Sure.”
“You really shouldn’t let her listen to that garbage. It will rot her brain.”
“I lost control of Grace when she turned two. She’s a monster. She thinks the lead singer is, and I quote, ‘the most darling thing she’s ever seen.’ His name is Noel. I can tell you his favorite color, the name of his pet rabbit, and his ten deepest desires.”
Sam hoots, pumping his fist. “She sure knows how to pick ‘em.”
“Oh, no. He’s a jerkface?”
“Wow. Wow, Ellison. Did you really just use the word jerkface right now? You’re what, twenty-six? I’m fairly certain that’s the first time I’ve heard that word used by anyone over the age of four. And I’ll bet my life that even your own daughter could come up with something better than that.”
I throw an embroidered cushion at him. “Jerkface.”
“I don’t even have a comeback prepared for that one. You…” He searches for a word and eventually gives up. “You win. But you better come prepared next time. I’ll have to ask the members of 4Sure for some juvenile insults to throw at you. However, in response to your earlier question, Noel’s not that bad. A spoiled, self-centered, annoying, preening, drama queen, but not as rough as some. At least he’s making me money. Maybe I’ll arrange a little birthday phone call for Miss Grace.”
“She’s already impossibly spoiled, Sam.”
“She doesn’t have a spoiled bone in her body.”
“She will start to rot from her insides if the lead singer of 4sure calls her for her birthday! She’ll be the talk of preschool.”
The thought of that makes us both laugh.
“Oh, no. We wouldn’t want that, now. She’ll develop a reputation.”
“Fine. You win. Have the whole band call her to sing happy birthday. I know you’ll do it anyways.”
“You’re damn right I will. Plus, you have no idea how much satisfaction I’m going to get out of telling the pretty boys that they need to suck up to a four-year-old. Maybe they can even write her a special birthday song. Something about how Grace is their queen. It’s gotta be good, though. Humbling.”
He rubs his hands together, lost in thought, before realizing that he’s letting me off the hook.
“That’s neither here nor there. And you’re avoiding the subject.”
I lean back in the chair and meet Sam’s eyes. “Let the interrogation begin. But I’m only answering five questions about Chris. It’s all I can do right now.”
“Seven?”
“Five.”
“Five. You win, but it’s an empty victory since I was only banking on getting three out of you. First question—why did you have to pick his company, Hallie?”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. That one is easy. “You know that I’m only making this stupid movie because of Ben. As an extra bonus, maybe