“It’ll get better,” she says, rubbing my back soothingly. “I’m talking in platitudes, luv, but you’ll put one foot in front of the other. Soldier on. You’ll be surprised one day when you wake up not so miserable.”
When I finally sink into the bedcovers, I take a look at the nightstand books.
UnderThe Heathcliff Saga, I’m delighted to findBlood OathandBlood Ties.With only three more chapters to go, I crack openBlood Oath.Chadwick Hall is a grade A asshole. I don’t like how he slept with the suspect’s sister two days after his night with Emilia Wren. But I’m sure the suspect’s sister is the Cardiff Strangler. This book better not end with a cliffhanger, or I’ll have to startBlood Tiestonight.
Just as I settle back to read, my phone dings with an Instagram alert.
It’s a photo of Bella Patel and me from the film set. She’s in full costume, long, muddied tweed skirt and boots, loosened white blouse open and soiled after a romantic tussle with Everett Dane in the last scene. She’s sipping an iced coffee and sharing a joke with me as a makeup artist fluffs her dark curls.
Heading back to England for Heathcliff Saga business (stay tuned, peeps!!!). I can’t stop thinking of this woman who started it all!!!
I smile, remembering how much I enjoyed hanging out with Bella, Everett, and Harry on the set and at the film premiere after-parties. Although young, beautiful, and on the cusp of stardom, all three were delightful. Just really fun early twentysomethings.
Lovely to hear from you @bellapatel! Actually,shestarted it all!
I reply back with the famous portrait of the Brontë siblings as a GIF with flashing stars around Emily’s face.
Bella hearts my reply within seconds.
Sarah hadn’t said anything about the actors having to be in London. She’s been hesitant to bother me about anythingnonurgent since Philip’s passing, and I’m more than fine with that. Still, I’m curious about what’s going on...
I think fondly of my time with the actors—Philip and I flew out to visit the LA set for a week during filming, while Mom drove down from Indiana to our house to watch Heathcliff. It had been shortly before her advanced breast cancer diagnosis, and I’ve been beyond grateful that she had that special time with Heathcliff. Somehow, someway, she convinced my then four-year-old that green vegetables are delicious and would give him superpowers. Meanwhile, Philip and I spent time with Bella, Everett, and Harry, and they made us feel wonderful and young again. Over the course of the next year, I joined the three on a few podcasts, and the weekend before the movie premiered, I flew up for an interview with Bella on a flashy New York City morning show.
It had only been a few months since Mom passed away, and I’d walked onto the studio set nervous, with a hammering heartbeat and sweaty palms. I’d been wearing one of Mom’s Jackie O.–style dresses, clingy but feminine and tailored. The dress was mid-length and pale green with an angled neckline and classic belt. Of course, Mom was never “trendy.” Her clothes were timeless, simple, and economical—as fashionable in 1960 as they are today. Dad gave me several of her favorite dresses before I flew back to South Carolina after the funeral. Wherever she is in eternity, I hope she saw me that morning onstage wearing her dress and trying to channel her nerves of steel.
Bella had smiled at me from the studio’s red couch, and I instantly felt like a schoolmarm. I hadn’t seen her since the LA film set visit. She was wearing a cropped red sequined shirt with long, wide-legged trousers and the spikiest spiked gold heels I’d ever seen. Andgeez...whose skin looks that spectacular under studio lights? She tossed back one of her beautiful black locks, smiled warmly, and got up to hug me. “Hey, Lizzie!”
Although the show’s host, Jenna McGathery, had prepped us ahead of time, I’d worried my IQ would plummet two minutes before the interview. Fortunately, Bella was more seasoned with these interviews and helped me feel at ease. Then Jenna asked me why I chose theWuthering Heightsstory in which to infuse my tale. I still remember my response:It couldn’t be any other backdrop. Unlike so many other romantic stories, Emily Brontë’s characters get beyond the warm fuzzies and happily-ever-aftersto the raw, aching nature of love that if left unchecked has the potential to ruin us. I think that’s why after all these years so many still connect with the book. We all know that love can be wonderful, and we’ll go to desperate lengths to find it. But even for the lucky ones of us who find our soulmates, there’s always that risk of loss.
My chest clenches while I stare at the silly Brontë GIF I just posted as I recall those words. I never imagined that this loss would play out for me so soon. Additionally, I think what I said resonated with Bella, because after the interview, she started confiding her romantic woes to me like I was her relationship therapist. I’d felt flattered, but woefully inadequate. I mean, yes, I had my soulmate, but I’d always felt that was just splendidly dumb luck. My previous experience in the romance department had been misreading a textbook cad and fantasizing about meeting the cravat-wearing man of my dreams in a Victorian tearoom.
Immediately after the interview, in a back studio dressing room, Bella started weeping on my shoulder, mascara streaking down her cheeks. I soothed her, holding her in a hug and giving her a Kleenex. I realized that out-of-this-world beauty and a chic Brooklyn brownstone couldn’t make anyone immune from heartbreak.
“He’s just not that into me!” she’d wailed about Harry into the shoulder of Mom’s dress. Between what I’d gleaned from the set and the paparazzi magazines I’d followed, my head spunfrom the drama between these three. After a whirlwind romance, she’d recently broken up with Everett to be with Harry.
“Of course he is...” I muttered, not knowing what else to say. Still, I remembered how on set he’d stared a little too longingly at the hot Australian actor playing Dr. Kenneth.
“I left Everett for him—but he just doesn’t seem that attracted to me! I could strut around in a string bikini, and he still wouldn’t pull himself away from watchingDance Moms.”
I smoothed her now mussed locks and handed her another Kleenex.
“Bella, so I don’t know everything that’s going on, but as your nerdy, much-older sister-figure, I want you to know that if it doesn’t work out between you and Harry, all of this will pass, and you’ll feel better one day. Trust me, I know. After my first heartbreak, I thought the bottom would drop out.”
“Do you mind me asking what happened?”
“It involved a contorted sex position and an antique icebox.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. My point is that you will weather this. These things all have a way of working out in the end.”
I remember how she nodded and then profusely apologized for the mascara on my dress. I reassured her it was fine. Mom would have liked knowing that her sensible dress’s shoulder fabric kept this young woman’s mascara from running on the extravagantly glam and ridiculously expensive crop top.
I wonder how Bella is doing and who she’s dating now. I wonder why she’s heading back to England. I send her a quick Instagram private message, letting her know I’m in London for a few weeks and if it works out, it would be wonderful to meet for lunch or coffee. I then send Sarah a quick text asking if she knows why the actors are making their way here.
Turning off my phone for the night, I dive back intoBlood Oath.
8
