Hollywood Beginnings (A Novella) Read Online Free
Author: Kathy Dunnehoff
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Jennifer Cruisie
leave for Minnesota without bringing home Hollywood troubles. Brian wasn't doing anything the way Van Baron had.
Take Three: Walk of Fame, for the Love of Lassie
Mom and I headed out of the hotel for the Walk of Fame where celebrities found concrete immortality. I watched her stop in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater, head down, studying the pink stars embedded in the sparkly charcoal stone. Marion Moore had always just been mom . She was still beautiful, anyone could see that, but she had a settled look that satisfied people have, and I'd always thought of celebrities as glamorously dissatisfied .
She stopped beside me, reached into her handbag, and I could hear her charm bracelet jingle. She wore conservative walking shorts, practical sandals, and a camp shirt not unlike my own. Her bracelet has always been the only quirky thing about my white bread mom.
For as long as I can remember, she's worn two pieces of jewelry consistently, her wedding ring and a coconut charm bracelet. The ring is a plain gold band that over the years has softened to a burnished gold and left a slight indentation on her finger. It matches my father's ring, although the fit on his is tighter as he's gone from a 20-something groom to a healthy but heavier man of sixty-five.
The bracelet is something else entirely. White gold, it has dozens of coconut shaped charms on it, another added every year on her birthday. I loved it as a child. With its different metals, some enameled, some bejeweled, it fascinated me. Later I wondered why, if she loved coconut so much, we only had it at Easter. She dyed the shredded stuff green and put it on cupcakes so jelly beans could hide in the grass .
But I never asked about the bracelet, and she never said. Asking her questions is not the way we work.
When we reached Lassie's star, she pulled a tissue out of her bag to brush some dust off. "Wasn't she a great dog?"
"I think he was several dogs."
Mom sighed. "The world's a little less special without Lassie."
She said it so quietly that I had to look at her closely. I had no idea she harbored strong feelings about a dog that barked every time a boy fell in a well.
Was this an ounce of regret for what could have been? I took a chance it was an opening, a rare opening, between her life and the past she never wanted to discuss. I mean, we're close in the way of normal mothers and daughters. We never swap clothes or boyfriends, thank God, like some of my friends with young, flaky mothers, but we're on the phone regularly. While I sometimes roll my eyes at her when we chat, I do know she'd jump in front of a bus for me. Then she'd scare me straight from even wanting to be near a bus and probably make me soup. "Mom?"
She looked up at me, so I went on. "Do you think about it?"
"Well, it was a very good television show."
"Not Lassie. Do you think about Hollywood?" I motioned around the place where tourists like us took pictures of the stars who were nothing like us. "You know, leaving it behind?"
She laughed then, a sweet one, light. "Heaven's no."
Heaven was probably the key word in that statement. Brian Keller did not know my mother. She's a force for good, always has been. And she's been very successful raising my sister and brother. They are as cautious and law abiding as any parent could hope. They did what they wanted with their lives and were lucky enough that it lined up beautifully with what the family and the congregation wanted for them.
When it comes to my siblings, Mom's right when she says, the good lord has a plan . But mine hasn't been revealed to me yet. I thought it was Duane Frandsen, but his plan was to know as many women as possible in a biblical way so clearly I was mistaken.
Mom stood up, smiling down at the dog's star.
Who knew she could feel so strongly about a TV show? "You really miss Lassie ?"
"Oh." Her smile changed to something a little sadder, and she shook her head. "It's hard to explain to someone your age."
She'd
Take Three: Walk of Fame, for the Love of Lassie
Mom and I headed out of the hotel for the Walk of Fame where celebrities found concrete immortality. I watched her stop in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater, head down, studying the pink stars embedded in the sparkly charcoal stone. Marion Moore had always just been mom . She was still beautiful, anyone could see that, but she had a settled look that satisfied people have, and I'd always thought of celebrities as glamorously dissatisfied .
She stopped beside me, reached into her handbag, and I could hear her charm bracelet jingle. She wore conservative walking shorts, practical sandals, and a camp shirt not unlike my own. Her bracelet has always been the only quirky thing about my white bread mom.
For as long as I can remember, she's worn two pieces of jewelry consistently, her wedding ring and a coconut charm bracelet. The ring is a plain gold band that over the years has softened to a burnished gold and left a slight indentation on her finger. It matches my father's ring, although the fit on his is tighter as he's gone from a 20-something groom to a healthy but heavier man of sixty-five.
The bracelet is something else entirely. White gold, it has dozens of coconut shaped charms on it, another added every year on her birthday. I loved it as a child. With its different metals, some enameled, some bejeweled, it fascinated me. Later I wondered why, if she loved coconut so much, we only had it at Easter. She dyed the shredded stuff green and put it on cupcakes so jelly beans could hide in the grass .
But I never asked about the bracelet, and she never said. Asking her questions is not the way we work.
When we reached Lassie's star, she pulled a tissue out of her bag to brush some dust off. "Wasn't she a great dog?"
"I think he was several dogs."
Mom sighed. "The world's a little less special without Lassie."
She said it so quietly that I had to look at her closely. I had no idea she harbored strong feelings about a dog that barked every time a boy fell in a well.
Was this an ounce of regret for what could have been? I took a chance it was an opening, a rare opening, between her life and the past she never wanted to discuss. I mean, we're close in the way of normal mothers and daughters. We never swap clothes or boyfriends, thank God, like some of my friends with young, flaky mothers, but we're on the phone regularly. While I sometimes roll my eyes at her when we chat, I do know she'd jump in front of a bus for me. Then she'd scare me straight from even wanting to be near a bus and probably make me soup. "Mom?"
She looked up at me, so I went on. "Do you think about it?"
"Well, it was a very good television show."
"Not Lassie. Do you think about Hollywood?" I motioned around the place where tourists like us took pictures of the stars who were nothing like us. "You know, leaving it behind?"
She laughed then, a sweet one, light. "Heaven's no."
Heaven was probably the key word in that statement. Brian Keller did not know my mother. She's a force for good, always has been. And she's been very successful raising my sister and brother. They are as cautious and law abiding as any parent could hope. They did what they wanted with their lives and were lucky enough that it lined up beautifully with what the family and the congregation wanted for them.
When it comes to my siblings, Mom's right when she says, the good lord has a plan . But mine hasn't been revealed to me yet. I thought it was Duane Frandsen, but his plan was to know as many women as possible in a biblical way so clearly I was mistaken.
Mom stood up, smiling down at the dog's star.
Who knew she could feel so strongly about a TV show? "You really miss Lassie ?"
"Oh." Her smile changed to something a little sadder, and she shook her head. "It's hard to explain to someone your age."
She'd
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