She blushed. “My parents taught me and Judy that a lady never admitted how much she wanted something. That an ascetic approach to life was the only moral option.”
Flynn wrinkled his nose. “They sound dreary.”
She laughed. “I suppose they were. But they loved us in their own detached way. They’re both gone now. Judy and I have been on our own the last four years.” She stopped, her voice catching. The memory of all that they’d lost and the challenges they’d faced almost overwhelmed her. But she had to go on. That had always been the only way to get through. “She was only fourteen when they got into the car accident. She was with them that night they passed away. She broke her leg in six places and was told she’d never dance again. That she’d probably have to use a cane to walk. But, well, you’ve met Judy.”
He gave her a wan smile. “I have. That kid’s braver than most men I know.”
Livvy choked back a knot of emotion in her throat and nodded. “She is. She’s kept me going.” She steeled herself to tell Flynn the worst of it—the part that made guilt gnaw at her, day in and out, that made her feel like she had no right to mourn her parents. Because it was her fault they were gone. “It was supposed to be me in the car. My parents had three tickets for the opera that night. But I was being a brat. I wanted to see your new movie,Seas the Day. It was opening at the local theater that night. My mother told me I was being selfish like I always was. But Judy wouldn’t hear it. She volunteered to go to the opera in my place. She knew how much your films meant to me.”
“I’m beginning to understand why you were so wary of me when we first met,” he said grimly.
“Flynn, no, it—” She struggled to find the words. “I did blame you, I’ll admit. But not as much as I blamed myself. My mother and father were upset. Judy told me later that Mother was screaming at Father the entire drive, telling him that he shouldn’t have allowed me to have my way. He was distracted. He missed thestop sign. Never even saw the truck coming.” A single tear trailed down her face, and she swiped at it with the sleeve of her robe. “So, you see. It was my fault.”
“How old were you?”
“Eighteen. Old enough to know better.”
He scoffed. “Hardly. When I was eighteen, I was in my first year at Oxford, and the chaplain of my college tried to have me expelled for replacing all the holy water in the chapel with gin.” The story broke the pall that had settled over them. Livvy laughed, gurgling and wet with the emotion that had overtaken her. Flynn knew how to lighten the mood without minimizing her story. It was an underappreciated skill.
“Livvy,” he continued, more serious now. “It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. We can’t control terrible things happening to us. There could’ve been a million reasons your father missed that stop sign.”
“Maybe, but if I hadn’t been so stubborn, my parents might still be alive. And I could’ve prevented Judy from getting hurt. At the very least, it would’ve been me with the broken leg.
When I learned what happened, I was flattened with grief and with guilt. I threw myself into taking care of Judy. It was the only thing keeping me going. I was supposed to go to college and study English that fall. Prepare to be the author I’d always hoped to be. But I used my college savings to send Judy to a rehabilitation clinic.”
“Did she ask you to?”
“No, but—what else was I supposed to do? We’re all each other has in the world. Because of me.”
He took a bite of pasta, seeming to consider how to respond. “Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life, but did it ever occur to you that Judy never would have wanted you to sacrifice all that?”
“It wasn’t her choice to make.” Livvy struggled to keep a note of defensiveness out of her voice. “It was what I owed her. To give her back the life I nearly robbed her of.”
Flynn popped a tomato from the salad into his mouth and gave Livvy a stern look. “Does she know? What you gave up for her?”
Livvy shook her head. “No, but—”
“No buts. Unless we’re talking about your absolutely delectable one.” Her mouth fell open at his bawdy remark, and he laughed. “I’ve warned you plenty of times, my dear, I’m a rogue through and through.”
“I couldn’t tell her. She never would’ve allowed it. I told her the funds all came from our parents’ inheritance. When the fall came around and I didn’t go off to college, I told her I’d changed my mind and didn’t want to go, that I didn’t need to go to college to be an author. I could write from home, the same as Jane Austen or Charlotte Brontë. She accepted it. Though I’m sure she knew it was a lie. But I had to make her better. I couldn’t live with myself otherwise. And ever since, I’ve done everything I could to keep her safe. To make sure she never gets hurt again. That’s all my parents wanted for either of us—to be well taken care of.”
He poured himself a bit more wine and raised the bottle in question above her glass. She nodded, and he topped her off. “And where does Hollywood enter into this?”
“I took Judy to an audition forMacbethat the Bowl, and they cast me instead. I felt so guilty. But she insisted I take the part. I was only meant to be an understudy, until the actress playing Lady Macbeth got offered a big movie role. Harry Evets saw the play, and well, here I am.”
“I’m surprised you agreed to make the picture.”
“Judy was vehement that I take the opportunity. She won me over when she insisted that it would get her closer to her owndreams. I realized she was right. There was no way we could afford to move to Los Angeles otherwise. And I did enjoy playing Lady Macbeth. It was the first time I’d spent that much time luxuriating in language and words since I stopped writing. Plus, it meant I didn’t have to send her off on a Greyhound bus hoping for the best. I could go with her and keep an eye on her.”
Flynn bit his lip, seeming to debate if he should say something. “Judy is eighteen years old now. The same age you were when you said you should have known better. Maybe it’s time you let her make some of her own mistakes.”
Livvy took another sip of her wine and pondered Flynn’s words. “I’m not sure if I know how to do that.”
“Well, the good news is you’re dating the most irresponsible man in Hollywood.” He winked at her. “People tell me I’m a bad influence.”
Livvy rolled her eyes. “And you love that they do. Besides, I’m here tonight, aren’t I? Instead of at home, pacing the living room floor and waiting for Judy to get home from set.”
“See?” He shrugged. “It’s already working.”
