Grantley
I tried to concentrate on my script as we drove along, but the animated chatter in the back seat kept distracting me. It wasn’t pissing me off or anything, but those kids were funny and I found myself smiling more than once at what they were saying.
“No way,” Mack exclaimed. “Dick could smash The Hulk on the head with a piece of wood.”
“But he couldn’t,” Callum retorted. “I’m not being mean about Dick, but the Hulk is The Hulk, he can kill anyone, he’s like a giant or something.”
“But Dick is the best at punching.”
“Yes, I know, but the Hulk has got these massive hands, as big as your head, and all he’d have to do is crush Dick’s skull.”
I heard Phoebe sigh. “Please boys, stop calling him Dick.” She said quietly, but not quietly enough that I didn’t hear and feel amused by it.
“But that’s his name,” Callum protested.
“His secret name,” Mack added. “Only his friends call him Dick, and he said we could.”
“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Now, watch the rest of the film.”
I looked over my shoulder and caught her staring at me with an anxious look on her face. When she realised I was looking, she jumped slightly in her seat.
“Sorry, are they disturbing you?” she asked, thumbing toward the boys.
“No not all. I was just checking you’re all okay back there.”
Phoebe nodded and flickered a weak smile. I should probably have told her I didn’t mind the fact that she’d obviously called me Dickhead to the twins, because weirdly I didn’t, but I didn’t want her to know I’d been listening in on their conversation. Plus, it was kind of funny to watch her squirm – call it payback for calling me a dickhead.
“Okay, here we are,” Barney pronounced pulling into a tree-lined street. “What number was it again?”
“Oh sorry, 121,” Phoebe said, leaning forward in her seat to speak to Barney. “Just up there on the right, behind that white car will be great.”
Barney nodded and slowly drove forward.
“Thank you so much for this. It really was very kind of you.”
“Not a problem.” I waved her away and turned to look back through the windshield.
It was a nice road. The houses were two-story, neat and tidy, and each one looked pretty much like all the others. All the lawns at the front were hidden behind fences or hedges, and each had a driveway running up the side.
“Your sister lived here long?” I asked.
“About nine years. She lived here…before.”
I took it that ‘before’ meant before the boys’ fuck-up of a father abandoned them – for another woman, no doubt. In my experience, men who left their wife and kids only ever left for someone else – it was never because they’d decided married life wasn’t for them and they’d be a better parent living alone; no, never for that reason. That’s what my own shit of a dad had done – left us for someone else when I was just five years old. I suppose I was lucky he’d stuck around that long, but when a younger, less drunk model showed him some attention, he didn’t waste any more time. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him for leaving. Sue-Ann Miller, my darling mom, was a Grade-A pain in the ass, whose idea of getting the vitamins she needed, was taking OJ with her vodka. What I did blame him for, was leaving me with her. Dad and I were tight. He took me fishing and let me help him fix his bike, read me stories at bedtime, he even had my name tattooed on his arm, yet he still rode away while I sobbed on our front lawn begging him to come back. He never tried to contact me, not even when I became a movie star – which I guess is props to him.
He was still living and breathing. I knew because I hired a PI to track him down. I didn’t want to contact him, but I suppose I wanted to tie up my loose ends before I signed on as Addison Yates. I wanted to know whether he was likely to come at me for cash, or even have some story printed in the newspaper about being my long-lost father. Apparently, he didn’t need me or my money. He worked as a mechanic at a bike shop and was married to some woman ten years younger than him, who cut hair and did mani- pedis for a living – she wasn’t even the one he’d left me behind for. They lived in a quiet cul-de-sac in Dayton, Ohio, had no kids, and rode with a mom and pop motorcycle club on the weekends. He lived the simple life of any normal, fifty-eight year old man and appeared to have never looked back – not the day he rode his bike from our house, or ever since.
As soon as Barney pulled up alongside the curb, the boys had their door open, ready to bolt.
“Hey, boys,” Phoebe said. “What do you say to Barney and Mr. James for the lift home?”
“Thank you,” they chorused, high-fiving Barney’s raised hand.
“Yes, thank you both. It was really very kind of you.” Phoebe flashed us both a smile and bent to pick up her bag from the floor board.
“You have to come in and see Mummy,” Mack chimed, leaning between the two seats.
“Mack,” Phoebe warned, glancing at me. “Mr. James and Barney have things to do. They probably need to get back.”
“Yeah,” Callum gasped. “Come and have tea with us.”
“I don’t drink tea, buddy.” I shrugged.
“No, not tea you drink, silly. Tea that you eat. Tea, tea.”
“He means dinner,” Phoebe explained, although I already knew; I was just messing with the kid.
“Maybe we could come in for a few minutes.”
I had no idea what made me suggest it, the words just fell from my mouth without any thought from my brain. Yet, I didn’t hate the idea. I wanted to go in and meet their mom.
“I-I don’t know,” Phoebe stuttered, looking between me and Barney. “Beth has, well she’s been-”
At that moment, a slim, pretty woman, about Phoebe’s height but with dark auburn hair, approached the car, bending to peer around the open door and into the car.
“Mack, Callum, what’s …what are you doing in that car?” she asked with a hint of trepidation.
“Beth, it’s fine,” Phoebe called, stooping down so her sister could see her. “I’m here. We got a lift back from the studio.”
Beth appeared in the rear passenger doorway and opened it wider. “Wow,” she exclaimed looking inside. “This is nice.”
She then turned to look at me and as soon as she recognized me, her mouth dropped open into a huge o shape.
“Hi,” I said, giving her a quick wave. “Grantley James, you must be Beth.”
She nodded, her eyes widened and her mouth still gaping.
“Isn’t it cool Mummy?” Mack said. “We’ve watched a film and Dick said he’s going to come inside for a few minutes.”
Beth looked at Phoebe and then back at me.
“Only if that’s okay with you,” I replied, giving the shocked woman a winning smile.
She nodded again.
“Dick was awesome today Mummy. He punched this big ugly man.” To demonstrate, Callum started to throw punches into mid-air.
“Dick?” she asked Phoebe, furrowing her brow.
Phoebe didn’t answer, but shook her head.
“That’ll be me,” I said, flashing a grin at Phoebe. “It’s a name the boys gave me for some reason.”
“Oh, okay.” Beth looked at Barney, me, and then Phoebe. “Would you like to come in?”
“If that’s okay with you,” I replied, already unfastening my belt. “We have time, right Barney?”
Barney nodded. “Yes sir. We can spare some time.”
“I thought you had a thing,” Phoebe said, her brow furrowed.
“I do, but a few minutes won’t hurt. So, lead the way Beth.”
The boys scrambled out of the car, pushing Beth to one side, who stared after them, evidently totally dumfounded about the Hollywood Star visiting her home.