All eyes swung toward us like a tether ball that’d been given a hearty smack as Camilla and I stepped inside the front door of the tiny banquet hall in town.
The walls were old wood panel and the floor a well-worn parquet. The combination of the two made everything blend together and added to the effect already set in motion by nearly fifty staring partygoers—the walls were closing in.
At least, in my mind they were.
In reality, the room was spacious and open, and nothing stood between us and the main space. As soon as you stepped through the front door, you were in the action.
“Okay,” Camilla whispered, unwinding her scarf from around her neck and speaking only out of the very corner of her mouth. “Is it just me, or is everyone staring at us?”
The gawks of strangers weren’t anything new in my celebrity life, but this was different. Wholly and fundamentally. The people in this room didn’t find their fascination in my fashion or love life, but in the woman I’d been brought here to portray and my sister’s and my resemblance to her.
Today’s party was a celebration of Grace’s life and its glory, both too short by a mile. She would have been thirty-two today, and I was a walking, breathing embodiment of everything she’d never be again.
An inch of my height disappeared as the sudden weight of skepticism and expectations settled on my shoulders.
I swallowed against the knot of extraneous saliva lodged in my throat and deflected. “Just surprised to see a celebrity, Cam. You should be used to this.”
Cam, smart girl that she was, wasn’t convinced by my pathetic attempt at brushing off the giant pink elephant in the room. Hell, we both might as well have been two actual elephants in a zoo, a crowd of people standing outside the clear plexiglass of our cage, watching our every move.
So I moved before she could dwell.
Quickly, I shucked my coat, gloves, and scarf, scooted to the front corner of the room, and hung them on a hanger next to the mishmash of outerwear already littering the front closet. Camilla’s actions mirrored my own, delayed by only a few seconds.
But those few precious moments were useful as I stared at the simple movement of her arm and the flex of her muscle as she forced her coat between two others and took a deep breath.
Coming today had seemed like a good enough idea last night when Grace’s grandfather had invited me—he’d been so convincing in his assertion that everyone wanted me there.
But the light of the banquet room was harsh and fluorescent, and all of the flaws I’d been blissfully unaware of during Grandpa Sam’s pitch had developed a glare.
Some of the guests here weren’t impressed by my appearance, wit, or credentials. In fact, some of them, I suspected, were only watching in wait—ready to see me fail. A few, I feared, were actually pained by my presence.
Internally, I was worried a lot of the people standing inside this banquet hall hated me. And if that was the case, their hate wasn’t something I could control. It was solely because of my role in this film. I mean, my back-and-forth experience with Levi Fox wasn’t exactly reassuring in that light.
Although, I doubted I’d be kissing or dry humping anyone here. I reserved that behavior for him.
“Just relax,” Camilla coached like a little gnat in my ear. “Just be yourself, be kind, and be gracious. Everyone will settle into the weirdness, and then it won’t feel strange anymore.”
I nodded slightly.
I could do this. If only for the simple reason that I had to. I couldn’t erase the fact that my presence probably came with a trip down memory lane for most of the people here, and I couldn’t just walk out without saying a word. For better or worse, I had to weather this storm—for at least a little while.
Cam gave me a pat on the butt.
One slow step forward and then another, I forced myself to move toward the people, scanning the crowd for friendly faces as I did. I saw more smiles than scowls, and the reassurance helped some of the tension in my shoulders ebb. But for all of the friendliness, the search for familiarity was still alarmingly empty.
“I don’t know who anyone is,” I whispered. “I don’t even see Sam anywhere.”
Although I’d never actually met Grandpa Sam or Grace’s mother, Mary, in person, I’d had the pleasure of seeing their faces about a week ago when Sam had decided to give FaceTiming a shot.
He’d been adorable, bumbling the screen around more than he’d kept it steady, and I was thankful for Mary’s kind eyes and the way they’d instantly put me at ease.
“He’s probably in the bathroom or something,” Camilla advised. “Old guys have to pee a lot.”
My face scrunched without instruction as I turned toward her. She shrugged. “What? He probably takes a water pill, Ivy. Those things make you run like a freaking hose.”
I shook my head with a small smile, unable to keep it from making an appearance despite my disgust. “TMI, Cam. Wayyyy too much.”
A throat cleared behind me, and I flushed, frozen. Heat tingled in my cheeks and numbed the tips of my fingers as my steady breathing flashed to erratic, and the abrupt loss of oxygen made it hard to retain full body function. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that whoever was polite enough to be alerting me to their presence from behind had heard the completely absurd conversation about diuretics. And now, I had no choice but to turn and face them.
My smile was brittle, forced at the edges and unnatural in shape, but it was there—I was an actress, after all. But Grace’s mother’s was radiant.
“Thank you so much for coming, Ivy. It’s so nice to finally see you in person.”
She reached for my hand, catching it in hers and squeezing it like a life preserver. I clasped back, fairly willing to let her take my hand and keep it if that would make her feel better.
Sure, I was Ivy Stone, a famous actress from Hollywood, but not to Mary. To Mary, I was the closest thing she’d seen to her daughter in years, and a kid to the nurturing yearn only a devastated mother could feel.
“It’s so nice to see you too,” I said and meant it with every ounce of my heart. “And I’m honored to be here. I completely understand that it can’t be easy to—”
She shook her head, and the pinch of her hand grew tighter. I stopped speaking.
“No. I don’t know that I can really even…” She paused, momentarily silenced by emotion. I fought against the sting in my nose and gave her all the strength my lowly hand had to offer. “You being here is good. Just…know that. I feel the closest I’ve felt to doing something for my daughter—something that means something for her—than I have since she died. People are going to know her again. Love her. Learn from her. She’s finally got the chance to give them something I thought she’d never have.”
My throat was thick as I answered. “I’m glad. I’m doing my best to do her justice.”
Mary smiled wistfully, her mouth curling inward at the corners as she recalled a memory. “Grace was stubborn. Almost to the point of maddening. I’ll catch myself sometimes, trying to glorify all of her best qualities and smear them over the flaws. But I’m always disappointed by how hollow it makes my daughter seem. She was real. She was flawed. And she was magnificent. Keep those things about her in mind, allow them in yourself, and I have no doubt you’ll find a way to bring her to life.”
Wow. That was so nice. Grace’s mom was probably one of the coolest women I’d ever—
“What are we doing?” an elderly man’s voice broke in from behind us. “Trying to resurrect a ghost?” I spun quickly to face the voice, but there was no actual satisfaction in it, and Grandpa Sam made sure to point it out. “Geez, girl. Slow down. Move that fast again, and you’re liable to give me whiplash.”
“Hi, Grandpa Sam,” I said instead of arguing, smiling with genuine happiness at the opportunity to see him in person. We’d spent plenty of time calling and texting back and forth, but face-to-face contact, besides that one FaceTime call, had been nonexistent.
“Hey there, beauty.” His eyes flashed to Camilla and back to me again, widening. “And there are two of you. Well, I’ll be damned.”
I laughed. “This is my twin sister, Camilla.”
“It’s nearly blinding, doll. The two of you standing together.” Camilla and I both giggled at Sam’s compliment. “We might have to separate the two of you. Just to prevent party casualties.” I shook my head, and he spun me back around, throwing an arm around my shoulders. Mary was nowhere to be found, and instantly, I felt bad. God, I hoped she wasn’t upset that I hadn’t even—
“I can see your face headed straight for the ground like a plane on fire. Don’t lose the smile now. I’m about to introduce you to some folks who need to be charmed to be won over.”
Mary and my faux pas temporarily forgotten at his proclamation that I was about to meet people that didn’t want to meet me, I froze. “What? Why would I go over there if they don’t like me?”
He scoffed. “To win the fuckers over. Why else?”
“I really don’t want to step on any toes here, Sam. I really appreciate you—”
“Hogwash. Sometimes you gotta stomp on some toes to really wake people up.”
“Stomping on toes breaks them,” I asserted.
He shrugged. “Eh, maybe. But it’s necessary. If they don’t break the toes, they don’t go to the doctor. And if they don’t go to the doctor, they don’t mend.”
My head spun trying to keep up. “What?”
“Forget it. Just be fucking charming, okay?”
“Holy moly, Sam. Dropping f-bombs now?” I questioned with a quirk to my brow, and he just smirked like the devil in response.
“F-bombs mean business in my book,” he retorted, but his smirk was still intact. “Now, put on the charm and show these small-town folk what it’s like to be in the presence of a celebrity.”
Good Lord. I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t want the people in this community to see me as some entitled actress who thought she deserved the red carpet rolled out wherever she went. I wanted them to see me. I wanted them to understand I had taken on the role of Grace because it was important and I cared.
But I didn’t have much choice in the matter because Sam was already in action.
I slapped a smile on my face, frail as it was. Jesus. Was I really about to go over there and talk to people who probably hated me?
Grandpa Sam’s driving hand on my back was an undeniable answer.
Yes. Yes, I was.
God help me.