Vanity Fair

Some moments just feel like a piece of cinema. Of course, as an actress, I practically see everything in my mind’s eye through the lens of a camera. Just perhaps, some pieces of my movie are slightly more illuminating, and a bit more exceptional than others (or so they seem.) This weekend was a double feature that generously kept going until last night. This passage is not intended to show off, but to simply include readers in my journey. I know there are some consistent ones, and this is for you. Although, who knows, there may be a portion of good old-fashioned advice in my frantic doubts. Anyway, here it goes.

Friday night I left directly from Drew’s office at the movie studio to my best friend Teresa’s. I was frazzled and glistening from a long day, in a bad and smelly way. Teresa flung a shirt at me and I added a generous spritz of Christian Dior to my jeans and leather boots. We walked up the hill to Sunset and were soon greeted by a rude woman at the extravagant hotel. Like a Doberman in a junkyard she barked, “Excuse me! Do you have reservations?” Teresa dismissively flew by and shouted a certain starlet’s name, let’s say, “Vanilla Sugar!” and the Doberman stuck her tail between her legs. I watched somewhat fascinated and decided to drop Posh Spice’s surname all over that dame next time.

Teresa and I were the last guests to arrive at the dinner table for seven. I had never met Vanilla Sugar or the television star “Doug Fairchild” (haha, this name game is fun) who sat beside her. Everyone was warm even before we were toasted on cocktails. I sat clear across Teresa and found myself sandwiched between Vanilla’s agent and his co-worker from one of the grandest talent agencies in the nation. My inner monologue, embarrassingly but truly, included things very close to, “You’re talented, you’re lovely, and gosh darn it, people like you.” A small consolation in the midst of, “WAITER, BRING ME MORE WINE STAT!” Long story short, Teresa was an enormous hit, like I had never seen, I subtly managed to let the agents know my aspirations briefly without embarrassing myself, Vanilla I loved enough to squeeze, and after the 6-hour meal I felt like no one would hesitate to reunite (especially with Teresa, geez!)…

The apparently snooty-patooty Chateau Marmont

Saturday morning abruptly stirred me off cloud 9 at a morning audition: webisodes. But, I would be thrilled to work. Let’s just say signing with Vanilla’s agent felt a bit far away that forenoon. No matter; I brushed it off. Anyway, I was guest starring in Drew’s first musicvideo later that evening. Very exciting; the beginning of who knows what!

Teresa aptly took the role of PA and “everywoman” while I applied makeup and Drew burned through One Block Radius’ song at an abandoned building. I can hardly wait to see my man’s finished product! It looked amazing through the teeny viewfinder alone.

Then sleepy but Sunday, my brother Kris and his roommate Garbe drove to visit our Aunt at the beach. We hadn’t seen our older cousin in a decade and my body only knew of saltwater once this whole summer. We lounged on the beach, let the waves beat us down, and had a beautiful salmon and halibut meal with roasted potatoes as the sunset washed over Aunt Dorie’s balcony. Explosive laughter is what my family’s all about, and indeed we shared it.

Monday I rehearsed for a play and by nightfall my Honda and I were headed to a Beverly Hills hotel to meet Teresa and a lovely girl that can only be referred to as a movie star. We shall call her “Ruby Red.” Drew and I spent an intimate July Fourth playing Marco Polo, drinking Mojitos, and assembling puzzles with Teresa and Ruby so I was excited to see her again. In the presence of Ruby I tend to feel entirely assured that I can survive “Hollywood.” She has discovered herself to be incredibly unshakable amongst adversity and encourages me to the limits. Once she clenched my leg and forcefully proclaimed, “Brenda, nothing is too far reaching.” Ruby has gone beyond such to assure my spirit I’ll be fine, but that is a greater journal entry to be saved for later…

A handful of my freakin' heroines for Vanity Fair

From Ruby’s hotel room in 90210, the three of us dolled up and went back to the aforementioned fancy-pants hotel on Sunset. Ruby has quickly become a brilliant girl and Teresa’s best friend more so than a “star” to me. But, nonetheless, as every eye on the dining patio gawked with her passing, it was quickly evident I was nearly alone in that opinion. We had a wonderful time over bottles wine and calamari and eventually our friend Sara, her former roommate, and my Drew joined us. In a pinnacle moment, Teresa overtook and made love to the lobby’s piano with every stroke of her fingers. Ruby sat beside her as Teresa’s angelic but bold voice filled the room. Staff and guests alike stopped to hear the enchanted notes before we all left for our consecutive beds.

Tuesday morning I awoke to discover myself resolved and secure. I wrote my talent manager and asked if the industry’s “slow season” was almost at a close and for advice on what I can do to be seen by more casting directors. To my utter dismay, I received a somewhat defensive and confidence-shattering reply. They said they send out my picture everyday and graciously included the entire list of auditions I didn’t get, making sure to capitalize the fact that I got NOT ONE audition. Folks, I cried. Let’s say I sobbed. Let’s agree that snot bubbles were pouring from my nose. I didn’t even flirt with choosing to envy Ruby and Vanilla; not at all. I simply want my own path and with that email it sounded like I wasn’t even pedaling a beach cruiser, let alone being on the highway towards my desires.

In all my wild (often Yaz birth control-inspired) emotions, I called anyone that loved me to blubber and beg for encouragement. Drew only got upset: first, he couldn’t hold me, and second, because we ARE creating our own path. Teresa offered the practical fact that a manager with minimal clout can hardly move and shake a career into being; there’s too many politics. My acting teacher proclaimed a simply solution: we will kick my butt in gear to move ahead. My wonderful boss (a fellow actress) gave a motivational speech worth all the 45 minutes it took to record it on iMovie for posterity. My mom “oooed” and “ahhed” my inner child while offering prayerful truths. Tony called out of the blue after months of disconnect to only explain, “I felt like God told me I had to call you. What’s up?”- enough said on that. And after acting class my TV star boss rung and offered a long sigh. “You there?” I checked. “Chill the fuck out, girl! I’ve been laughing at your impatient ass all day. I’m gonna smack you when I see you.”

All that exposition to say: I was back to full “Brenda” by nightfall.

Finally, last night I donned my favorite sequence top and headed to the jazz bar Green Door to meet Teresa, Vanilla, Ruby, Drew, and an old and favorite friend (and fellow actor for goodness sakes, Justin) Justin. Additional and lovely persons joined our lounge area of comped Skyy and various juices. Vibrant jazz resounded as we all simply spent precious time together and, again, Miss Teresa found herself at the piano, with Ruby and Vanilla as her back-up singers to entertain the various baroque rooms. Inspired, Ruby even asked Drew to produce a project with her on behalf of showcasing Teresa’s music and prowess in performance. Are we excited an international “movie star” wants to work with Drew on something that will benefit Teresa? Um…yes.

Long story short…I had an exceptional weekend.

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Although arguably Los Angeles has no “seasons”, even the slight changes in temperature bring back the simple sensations, adolescent thoughts, ridiculously overblown crushes, friendships, and even distinct smells of my upbringing in New Jersey. In the cold, I remember shopping for Christmas gifts at the Cherry Hill Mall, crossing over the teeny one-way bridge towards the 73, and the warm relief of Wawa coffee as Kris and I gaze at the passing uniform homes. Conversely, the sun brings me back to the Wildwood boardwalk and to wishing a boy would just kiss Tara and me already. (Uh, 2 separate boys.) Upon the change in Fahrenheit I often become so desperate to grasp the old times that I take desperate measures. Well, perhaps not quite “desperate” but I did happen to wholly sniff in my boss’ baby’s sandals before they hit her feet. They were jellies and I could almost feel my teeny bikini and side ponytail saturate in the welcoming water of my sprinkler, circa 1990.

All that being said, I felt like relaying a simple, short story. I have no idea what made me recall this. Although my family is mixed with half siblings, my parents have been together since I’ve been alive; dysfunction and betrayal are not familiar and I had never seen them firsthand. Now married at 25 and surrounded by other relationships, adulthood brings a deeper understanding of such complications. Perhaps that’s how I remembered this.

In my final year of high school and until I moved to Los Angeles I babysat for two children on a pretty steady basis. Their father was a pilot and their mother was a stay-at-home mom. I am usually not a huge fan of “kids” until I know them personally and in this case I fell head-over-heels for these two. They were both creative, well-behaved, witty, and sweet miniature comedians of about 5 and 8. Sometimes their mom “Lily” would beckon me for daytime hours but more often than not it would be 6 to 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning. I never complained. Although it stole my evenings it was the easiest money in the world: hang with the loves until their 8 o’clock bedtime and watch movies until Lily returned.

At the time, I never assumed the worst of anyone and I was too young at heart to fathom the family dynamics there. Looking back, it is almost shocking to realize all the darkness I overlooked. My priority was in the kids and Lily was a great mom. “Jake” was almost never home and we mostly only knew each other by phone, but I could tell he loved all three of them.

In just a few months, Lily got very comfortable with me, asked about my life, and always asked for fashion advice before she walked out the door. Usually I would arrive at 6 simply to give her 2 or 3 hours just to shower and get ready. She never quite looked “scandalous” as she left, but she did dress very young. Indeed, Lily was a very fresh-faced 30some anyway. She looked to be in her late 20s and I would have to deny she ever looked like a mom as I knew it. We developed one routine that I now find insane but, at the time, she justified it to me quite well. She’d say, “Bren, remember when Jake calls tell him I ‘just left’ and that I’m at my sister’s. You know, I hate to lie to him, but he gets so worried for no reason. I don’t want to stress him at work when we’re only grabbing a few drinks.” I was 19 for goodness sake and through my college eyes I thought a cooped up mom did deserve a few drinks when she wanted. After all, she was always meeting her sister out anyway. I always dreaded Jake’s phone calls and he never sounded like he believed a word, but he was kind enough to never pressure me for a truth…

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One summer Lily and Jake asked if they could pay me to go on a little vacation with them to watch the kids. Lily called last minute to say that her and her sister were going out first with the kids and that I would be driving the 4 hours with Jake. I never assumed I was desirable to anyone unless they announced it, but I was very uncomfortable with the idea. No prior incident indicated I should be afraid, but I tried to plan how I would handle it if he came on to me. Looking back, I wonder if what I actually sensed was sexual frustration. Maybe he did enjoy the fresh blood of a girl that listened to him without arguing. It did prove to be awkward, but we got through it without incident. The weekend was fun and when we returned life resumed as usual.

On a Saturday, Lily hired me to spend the entire day and evening with the kids. I wanted to take them to the park so I stole the car seat from her van and put it in my car. Lily called to check in a couple times and say hello to her babies. She promised to be home early, around midnight, and indeed she was. She seemed almost euphoric when she entered the house and went up to her bedroom after she passed money and said goodbye. I heard her enter the bathroom just as I remembered the car seat was still in my car. So, I grabbed the van key to make the exchange.

I wrangled the seat out of my car and lugged it to the van in the driveway. It was a warm summer night and my mission was only aided by the nearby streetlights. It was quiet and still as the breeze tickled tree branches across their bulbs, causing the light to appear and disappear. I unlocked the van and quickly rolled open the door. I couldn’t make it out but suddenly the figure of a man lunged at me from within. He was hoping to evade my screams by showing himself in the light and telling me, “It’s ok.”

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Too late. I was screaming.

Lily scurried out of the house in a panic. “Brenda!” she forcefully yelled, “It’s ok, sweetheart!”

By this point, the car seat lay in a heap at my feet and I stared at the mystery man with suspicion, confusion, and anger. Lily grabbed my shoulders and shook me, feigning a weak laugh. “Honey.” For a near eternity the three of us breathed heavily and desperately waiting for an explanation. Lily continued at last, “Honey, this is a friend. It’s just a friend of mine. I would’ve brought him in and told you but I didn’t want you to think something was happening…that was wrong.”

Good idea, I thought, because this isn’t shady at all.

I have no idea what my face read but upon her looking at it, Lily seemed horrified. I nodded and headed to my car without looking back, “It’s ok,” I yelled (just as everyone else had said). “It’s ok.” She called me on the way home but I was afraid to answer. Her message was a reiterated explanation and please to not mention a thing to Jake.

I should’ve seen it coming and although I still gave Lily the benefit of the doubt, now I’m old enough to know a man wouldn’t come to my house at midnight sans my husband unless I desired something would happen… “that was wrong”.

How ridiculous is that? I mean, what are the chances of her getting caught like that? Lily brought it up a million times afterward, laughing about how the most innocent thing looked so terrible! And, please don’t tell Jake.

In the end, I kept on sitting but she stopped asking me to lie for her. I never mentioned anything to Jake and who knows if that was right of wrong. It was too complicated for me. To this day I miss the kids, and have no way to get in touch with them. I also wonder…did Lily and Jake make it?