Viv was happy for Goldie. Goldie was a shark, always moving, always working on the next rung of her career. She’d gotten to the top not by accident but by grit. There were thousands of beautiful blondes in Hollywood. Only a handful that made it. Goldie was one.
Viv knew that Goldie Hayes only ever let her guard down with Siena and she herself. She played with Siena, she sipped wine with Viv, she even nibbled on a carb now and again when they hung out.
Viv and Siena had always provided Goldie a break from the pressure of show business. But it was always brief, and it was always back to the discipline that kept her looking thirty at almost fifty. But now, here in Irish Hills, Goldie radiated security, confidence, comfort, and maturity. Maturity was beautiful, but not in Hollywood!
“I know, right? Who knew a little body fat could help soften the face. I’m about to take on the role of the mom of adults in this new project I’m doing for Amazon Prime. It’s calledThe Hour of Her Death, about a podcaster. I’m not the lead, the podcaster. I’m hermother, but I am the producer. Read the book, bought the rights, and I call the shots. It’s been a revelation. I’m not even getting Botox before we shoot. Ha!”
“You’re a latter-day Reese Witherspoon!”
“Yeah, I wish I would have figured that out sooner. Calling my shots instead of being a slave to shots?” Goldie pointed to her forehead, which was slightly less paralyzed than the last time Viv had seen it. “Yeah. I’m loving it.”
“I think you’re loving the lake air and the lake hunk.”
“For sure.”
Just then, a fluffy little white dog, that looked more cotton ball than canine, trotted over to inspect the situation.
“Myrna! The lake agrees with you, too!”
Goldie’s Bichon had a countrified bandana around her neck. The little diva used to sport a crystal doggie collar.
“Oh, she thinks she’s a Golden Retriever these days. She barking at ducks like she’s the sheriff of all ducks. Go on now, Myrna. I saw a squirrel outside.” Myrna trotted off to patrol the grounds, apparently.
“Now get in here, sit down. The girls are on the way. But I want to catch up before they get here.”
“All the girls?”
“Yes, the Sandbar Sisters in total, now that you’re here.”
Viv and Goldie walked arm and arm through the little lobby check-in area and toward the back of the hotel. Viv gasped. Her eyes feasted on the wall of windows; little wave caps on the blue lake twinkled like daylight stars in the panoramic view.
For a second, she just stared at the water. She flashed back to her young self. The one who charged ahead. The one who didn’t worry about the future. The one who didn’t drape doom around every threshold.
That was who her old friends expected. This was no longer her. Viv worried about that, about disappointing all of them.
She was tired. She wasn’t ready to be “on” for anyone.
Goldie guided her to a comfortable chair. She kneeled down in front of Viv.
“I’m going to tell you something. I can see you’re nervous or reticent. I get it. I did not think Irish Hills was the answer to my P.R. crisis last summer. It turned out it was the answer to a lot more than that. You just be you. The rest will work itself out.”
“If someone tries to get me to go tubing, well, that’s it. I’m out.”
“Deal.”
Viv felt some of the tension go out of her shoulders and neck. She was putting too much pressure on herself. It would be nice to see old friends. Maybe for the last time, before she — She tried to stop her mind from doing it, but it did it.
Her mind finished the thought. Maybe this was the last time she would see her old friends before she got too sick. That’s what her head did, no matter how many times the doctors and the cancer support group said she should think positively. The dark thoughts finished her sentence. Behind every “you got this” and “you can do anything you set your mind to,” sat, “this is the last time.”
Viv put a smile on her face for Siena, for Goldie, even if inside, the last thing she felt was “go, girl.”
* * *
Viv, 1989
“No way. No WAY!” Goldie squealed and applauded. She lived for applause but also gave them freely.
Libby, Hope, J.J., Goldie, and Viv watched as Keith Brady swung out on the little disk secured to the rope. The rope arced over the water. Then he let loose and did a flip into the lake.
