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Authors: Jean Marie Stanberry

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women

Laying Low in Hollywood (14 page)

BOOK: Laying Low in Hollywood
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CHAPTER 14

 

   I sat in my condo that night planning our program for the following week.  Our theme this week was 50’s music, which was okay, though I couldn’t really find myself all that inspired by letterman sweaters and poodle skirts.  As far as I was concerned, that era had been done and overdone.

 

   But of course, the network was concerned with ratings, not creativity, and as their employee, I was bound to follow their guidelines.  Still, I wanted to think outside the box a little bit and come up with some music that was a little different than your normal sock hop music, which I assumed, is what everyone else would be picking for their programs.

 

   After doing quite a bit of research on the internet, I finally decided on the song, “That’s Amore’” by Dean Martin.  I liked it!  It was kind of quirky and more mature than some of the other songs I had been considering.

 

   I spent the rest of the evening playing the music over and over and dancing around the living room, trying to come up with a plan for my choreography.  Each week the producers would tell us what required element they were adding to our programs, that element would be added to the element from the previous week and that would give them an entire list of required elements by the end of the season.  This week we were required to add a pairs spin to our program.  So this week, our program would have to include a lift and a pairs spin, no problem.

 

   I was thinking about teaching Elena and Ron a simple cartwheel lift and a pretty fool proof version of a pairs spin.  I was pretty excited about the choreography I’d come up with so far, I thought that this was going to be a fun week for us.

 

   The next morning in practice I told Ron and Elena our plan for 50’s week.  Ron was game, but Elena was pouting, she wanted to skate to “Good Golly Miss Molly”.  Oh well, I guess you can’t make everyone happy.

 

   We got right to work, luckily Elena was not adverse to learning the pairs spin, I was hoping that meant that she was trusting Ron a little bit more, but I seriously doubted it.  Our new cameraman was on the ice with us this morning.  His name was Javier and he was very polite.  The best part was that he was a lot less obtrusive than Maurice had been.

 

   We worked hard all week and our program seemed to be coming together nicely.  Elena was even enjoying playing up the quirkiness of our song, I was happy she was finally enjoying herself.  We had a pair spin, though it was still quite shaky.  The size difference between Elena and Ron was quite substantial, if Ron didn’t bend over far enough, Elena would just crash into his chest, it was kind of comical.

 

   Tuesday morning I poured my coffee into a to go cup and headed for the rink.  I grabbed my mail out of my mailbox on the way out.  I had quite a stack, I’d forgotten to get it for a couple of days.  I immediately noticed a thick envelope right on top.  I pulled it out and looked at the return address. 

 

   It was from Greg’s lawyer in Colorado Springs.  I ripped the envelope open and stared numbly at the contents.  I let out a distressed sigh, it was all over...my divorce was final.

 

   It had taken months, but it barely seemed like any time at all.  It seemed crazy that a union that had lasted more than twenty years, could end, in just a matter of months.  Just reading the words that made it all final seemed to tear a hole right in my chest.  I bit my lower lip and fought the tears that seemed to come to my eyes almost automatically.

 

   I shook my head angrily and gave myself a silent reprimand, I wasn’t going to cry any more.  I had cried enough about this.  I tried to tell myself that Greg wasn’t worth my tears, but I had put my heart and soul into our relationship, and our family.  I had thought that we were happy.  How was I to know he would throw it all away for another woman who was almost young enough to be my own daughter?

 

   I tossed the letter and the rest of the mail into the passenger seat and drove to the ice rink.  I blasted the stereo in the car and sang along as loudly as I could, I was trying to turn my morose mood around.  It really wasn’t working, but I was attracting quite a bit of attention whenever I stopped at a stoplight.  Unfortunately, I just couldn’t shake the feeling of overwhelming sadness that was engulfing me.

 

   When I got to the rink, Elena was there, sitting on the bench waiting for me, but Ron was nowhere to be found.  I was a little worried, it was not like him at all!  Ron was never late.  I put my skates on and checked my e-mails on my phone, but he hadn’t called or e-mailed me. 

 

   “Elena, have you heard from Ron?  Did he tell you he was going to be late?” I asked, I was getting more and more worried.

 

   “No, he not call me,” said Elena, shaking her head.

 

   I tried his cell phone, but there was no answer.  More than twenty minutes had passed and my heart was pounding nervously.  Finally, I broke down and called Jorge.

 

   “Jorge, have you heard from Ron?   He’s not here at practice, he’s never late, I’m worried that something has happened to him,” I cried, no matter how much I tried to disguise it, my voice was raising in fear.

 

   “Did you happen to see the news last night?” asked Jorge, his voice was flat and calm, in contrast to my own voice, that was rising in hysteria.

 

   “No, why?” I asked, not sure what the evening news would have to do with Ron.

 

    “There is a bit of trouble in paradise.  Have Javier show you the news clip.  I’m going to run over to his condo to check on him now, I’ll call you back,” said Jorge.

 

   I stared at my phone in confusion after he ended the call.  News clip?  What, exactly, was going on?

 

   “Javier,” I called, waving him over to me.  He skated over, eyeing me with concern.

 

    “Yes, Ms. Jensen?”

 

   “Jorge said that you could show me some sort of a news clip, I’m not quite sure what he was talking about,” I said.

 

   “Yes, I have it here, on my phone,” said Javier, pulling out his I-phone and pulling up the video clip for me. 

 

    I stared at the clip on the small screen.  It was hard to tell, but it looked like the woman in the clip was Jenae Brannon, but I couldn’t really tell who the man was.  I still wasn’t really sure what I was looking at.

 

   “I’m sorry Javier, I don’t know what this is about.  Why does Jorge want me to see this news clip?” I cried in frustration, I had no idea what I was looking at, or what this had to do with Ron not showing up for practice.

 

   “This clip was on the news last night, it’s secret footage taken in Hawaii.  It is Ron’s wife, she’s out with Roman Fleming, a professional football player,” said Javier.

 

   “Oh shit!” I exclaimed, as I finally realized what the news clip meant.  The woman in the video was not acting like a woman who was currently married to someone else.  She was sitting on Roman Fleming’s lap, whispering in his ear.  I shook my head disgustedly.  As angry as I was about Jenae’s indiscretions, I was not all that surprised.  I had suspected that she was a gold digger, unfortunately, this was not a good way for Ron to find out.

 

   Poor Ron, everything he did was for his wife and his daughters, this was like a sobering slap in the face.  He was busting his ass trying to learn how to figure skate for a reality TV show and Jenae was stepping out on him while he was gone!

 

   I jumped anxiously, startled by my phone, which was playing music in my pocket and vibrating annoyingly, I pulled it out nervously and nearly dropped it in my haste.

 

   “Hello?”

 

   “Mr. Brannon won’t be there for practice this morning,” said Jorge, I almost cringed at his tone.  His voice was sharp with anger on the other end of the line.

 

   “Is he okay?” I asked, I realized I was pretty much holding my breath.

 

   “He will be, he’s suffering from an incapacitating hangover at the moment,” said Jorge, his voice was laced with sarcasm.

 

   “I’ll be right over,” I said.

 

   “I’m very sorry Lane, but if you wish to keep your job, you will stay right where you are.  Despite the recent turn of events, I really think we need to keep playing things cool, am I understood?” asked Jorge, his voice was tight and serious.  I sighed, what could I do?  He was the producer, and my boss.              He was not happy at the moment, I didn’t want to do anything to further piss him off.

 

   “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

 

   “I will deal with Brannon.  You will work with Elena today and breathe not a word of this to anyone, comprende?”

 

   “Sure Jorge, whatever you say,” I replied coldly, my voice was sad and resigned.

 

  “That’s my little angel lips.  You’re the best choreographer I’ve got, I don’t want to loose you, you know that, don’t you?” crooned Jorge, on the other end of the line.  I rolled my eyes miserably.

 

   “Jorge I get it, goodbye,” I snapped.

 

  I spent the rest of our time working with Elena exclusively.  I wanted to highlight her spins anyway.  I decided to give her a little solo with a stunning spin sequence.  She was so excited, she was beaming proudly, by the time practice was over.

 

   I had worried what I would say to Elena.  I had promised Jorge that I wouldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone, I had assumed that would include Elena.  What I had forgotten was, how self absorbed Elena was.  She never voiced a single concern over Ron’s absence, go figure...

 

   After practice, I drove back to my condo, lost in my thoughts of sadness.  I brought all my mail in and threw it in a pile on the kitchen counter.  I flopped on the couch dejectedly.  I tried to keep the sadness from consuming my thoughts, but I couldn’t help it.  My marriage was over, now it seemed that Ron’s marriage was in jeopardy also.  I wondered what was wrong with this world.  I had always thought that marriages were meant to last forever, till death do us part.  In our modern world everything was disposable, including people and relationships.

 

   It was so easy, if you were a man and you wanted a wife that was younger and more beautiful, you could just divorce your old wife, the one that raised your children, and was there for you, before you were successful.  The one that had worked full time to help both of you struggle through college. 

 

                I mean really, what was the incentive for Greg to stay?  Our kids were grown, I was already in my forties, and of course, I would only be getting older with every passing year!  There would always be someone out there with less lines on their face, more cleavage, no stretch marks...the list went on an on.

 

   I sighed, it was no different for Ron.  His retirement had forced his wife to abandon her rich and famous lifestyle, which, it turns out, she wasn’t willing to do.

 

   It only made sense to her to go out looking for a man who could support her in the manner she felt like she deserved.  I shook my head miserably.  I thought about my grandparents and how happy they had been together for more than sixty years.  They had been more in love than any couple I had ever seen, right up to the day my grandfather died.  When had our world become this shallow, whining, society?

 

   I wandered around the condo aimlessly for a while, then I yawned in boredom.  I was suddenly tired.  I took off my shoes and went into the bedroom to take a nap.  I’m not sure how long I was asleep but I was awakened by the doorbell ringing.

 

   I peeked out the peephole to see Ron standing there.  I opened the door, he gave me a sheepish smile.

 

   “Sorry I missed practice this morning,” he told me, with a little shrug.             

 

   “Yeah, I know,” I told him.  I was looking down at the floor.  I felt so bad for him, I couldn’t really look at him.

             

   “May I come in?” he asked.

 

   “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I told him.  He had obviously been upset by his wife’s careless antics.  But inviting him into the condo, when no one else was around, seemed like a bad idea. 

 

    I had been forbidden by Jorge to socialize with Ron at all outside the ice rink.  I was stiffened with apprehension, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tempt fate.  He was obviously upset, I was already upset over my own divorce being final.  Together, Ron and I were about as emotionally stable as Richard Nixon in the final days of his presidency!

BOOK: Laying Low in Hollywood
10.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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