CHAPTER 5–THE LIES BY OMISSION CAN KILL–EVERETT

“I just feel you’re taking a lot of liberties coming back here and demanding things change because you’re back.” Rebecca expressed her feelings directly.

Everett smiled at Rebecca. She was jealous and upset he was here. His mere presence got to her. But it bothered him she hadn’t touched the muffin.

“If you don’t feel there’s anything wrong with the script, then we’re at an impasse. Let’s run through both scenes and decide which one to remove.

“I don’t believe we need to. Mr. Stone had a keen eye for what’s wrong with the writing and I think his solution was flawless. After Dane kisses Bella, Blane follows her to see the end of the kiss. We could write an entire love triangle story arch from this. With the two men competing for Bella.”

Everett saw Rebecca’s eyes close as she tried to keep her temper quiet. She was good with that in public. In private, it was a different situation. She let it blow spectacularly.

“No, I won’t kiss him. That idea is off the table. I can’t stand the idea of kissing a man who’s a perfect stranger to my character. How do I know I can trust what I see before me? This could be Dane’s doppelgänger or twin for all I know. He might have malicious intentions. Can my character trust him again after how we left things? What has he been doing for years? Bella doesn’t know. Bella’s resistance to both men will captivate fans more than their conflict. But what about Bella? Bella’s confusion and anger have festered because she didn’t get to say goodbye. How could he leave and never end the relationship with one last goodbye?”

Everett could see the glint of tears in Rebecca’s eyes. He knew she wasn’t talking about Bella and Dane’s last scene together. She was talking about their last time together. Everett didn’t like her mixing work and their past together. Rebecca wanted to keep their marriage a secret, and now she wanted to hash out their issues in public by pretending they were their characters’ issues.

“Maybe he planned on returning when he got his head on straight and found his brother. If he had bid farewell to Bella, he wouldn’t have gone searching for his brother. If Bella didn’t keep secrets from him and Dane didn’t find out about them. They might still be together. Or if Bella hadn’t destroyed everything Dane wanted for their future, they’d be together now.”

Only Rebecca and Everett understood what he’d spoken of. Rebecca’s hurt gasp and pain-filled eyes told him everything he needed to know. “You know nothing, and Dane knows even less.

“You know what? When you’ve changed everything in the script, someone come get me and we can run through it. I will not sit here and argue over every minor detail. If he can’t act as the script says, then fix it. I’d hate to see him blame his bad acting on bad writing when it’s clearly not the writing.” Rebecca looked crazy as she said this. She’d lost her temper, something she only did behind closed doors. If Everett hadn’t lost his own temper, he’d have recognized that someone wasn’t right, but it didn’t cross his mind.

“Are you claiming I’m a one-trick pony?” Everett felt incensed at her nerve. How dare she say something like that in front of the entire cast and crew?

“If the horseshoe fits, wear it.” Rebecca double down on her words. She got a peculiar look on her face and stopped talking. Standing, she went straight for the door to leave the reading room.

            Several sets of bulging eyes and flapping ears listening to the producer and director protest. While the scriptwriter tried to explain things. Rebecca ignored them and stormed off to her dressing room. The room quietened after a long moment.

            Everett simply said. “You don’t need to say anything. I went too far. I need to apologize to her and make amends. We’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Her dressing room hasn’t changed locations?” Everett stood and followed her toward the door of the reading room. She was long gone by now.

            “It’s in the same location.” The director said as he waved his hand vaguely at the door. What he saw, it disgusted him. That wasn’t the actress he’d worked three years with. She didn’t act like that. His opinion of this match up slid toward regret for agreeing to this. “Shall we agree this won’t happen again?”

            Everett stopped and turned around. He looked coldly at the Director before he spoke. “I can’t guarantee anything other than we’ll bring this energy to the screen.” He stepped backward several steps with a smirk on his lips and his hands outstretched on either side of him dramatically. This time, he wasn’t apologetic to the director. Everett turned back to the door and left the room.

            It took Everett longer than he expected to find her dressing room. The corridors were no longer familiar to him. But when he found Rebecca’s dressing room, she’d locked the door. He knocked on the door and received no reply.

            Everett was banging on the door when the wardrobe seamstress came by with a rack of clothing. She caught him yelling at the door for Rebecca to open the door.

            “Sir, she’s at a reading for tomorrow’s taping.”

            “I just came from the reading where she stormed out. We need to talk, but she’s being childish.”

            The seamstress frown at Everett’s words. “That doesn’t sound like Rebecca. She doesn’t have a temper, and she doesn’t act like a prima donna either. Let me go in and see if everything’s okay.”

             She fished a key card from her pocket and swiped it. “Just let me go in and make sure everything is alright.”

            Everett didn’t want for the seamstress to do what she wanted. He moved past her and into the dressing room. The place was a wild riot of colour. One of the few things she let others see. Her love of colour in her spaces. Rebecca would wear colourful things if she believed the public wouldn’t see her. Otherwise, she dressed more subdued. But her home and her dressing room were her secret spaces. There, a riot of colour and whimsy prevailed.

            “Rebecca, where are you hiding? Come on. We need to talk this out.” He was looking behind several racks of costumes and other clutter when the seamstress screamed. She’d gone to the partially open door of the bathroom.

            Everett rushed over to her and checked the small space. Rebecca lay on the floor unconscious, curled up in a ball. It looked like she’d gone to throw up and passed out at some point.

            “Shit. What the hell?”

            “Oh, not again. I’m sorry, sir. You need to go. I’ll call the first aid department and get them down here.”

            “What do you mean by not again? This has happened before. What is going on?”

            “It’s been going on for years. Ever since she lost her little one?”

            “Lost her what?”

            “She miscarried. Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about it. It’s her personal business.”

            “No, I want to know when she had this miscarriage.”

            “Oh, uh.” The seamstress frowned at him for a moment. “About a year after the show received its first award. Right around the time the main male lead changed. She’s got a medical condition she didn’t know about that caused to cannot carry a child to full term.”

            “What? That’s ridiculous. I would have known. She would have told me.” Everett stopped where he stood. His mind took an unwelcome walk down memory lane.

            As he thought about it, there was nothing. This must be the excuse she gave those around her to explain the visible results of her addiction. Whatever that addiction was to, he still didn’t know.

            Meanwhile, the seamstress pulled out her phone and called the studio’s first aid department and a couple of paramedics came to the dressing room.

            The entire event forced Everett to sit on the small sofa in Rebecca’s dressing room and watch them take Rebecca from the bathroom. The seamstress appeared to know what she was doing, as if she’d done this before.

            “Is she still on the usual prescriptions?”

            “It’s all I could find in her kit.”

            “Ms. Jones is lucky this time. She didn’t hit her head when she collapsed. It could be far worse if she were at the top of stairs when she faints. We’ll wait with her until the ambulance arrives.”

            “Prescriptions? What are they for? Has she injured herself before?”

            “These? I’m sorry I can’t tell you what they are for. Or anything about Ms. Jones, health. It’s confidential information. Could you see the harm it would come if something like this got out?”

            “She really miscarried the baby?”

            “I’m sorry, what baby? Sir, I think you need to step out now and be on your way. Why are you here anyway? Maybe I should get your name.”

            “I’m her co-star. Or I was and am again. Everett Stone.”

            That announcement sent everyone in the room into silence. “Oh, I am sorry, sir, for being rude to you. I didn’t recognize you.”

            “It happens when I don’t have the stage makeup on.” His voice didn’t sound right to Everett. It sounded like it came down from the far end of a hollow tunnel. He didn’t know what to make out of this.

            Why hadn’t she told him she’d been pregnant? Unless the baby wasn’t his. But then why didn’t she tell him she’d miscarried it? Unless she hadn’t really miscarried it.

            Had he escaped a farce of a marriage? Or what kind of hell had he abandoned her to?

            “Should we call her boyfriend or something?”

            “Boyfriend?” The seamstress snorted. “That’s just tabloid fodder. She doesn’t date. No, I’ll call Ben her agent. He’ll arranged what she’ll let him.”

            “What do you mean, what she’ll let him? What does that mean?”

            The seamstress shrugged. “Ms. Jones doesn’t say much of anything to us about this. She keeps things quiet. Even Ben doesn’t know fully what is happening.”

            “Of course not. That would mean people would know about her private life.” Addiction or illness, Everett could see Rebecca needed to cry for help. But she wasn’t saying anything to anyone. Why did he feel like he needed to do something, but he felt like she’d tied hands?

            “I think she’s coming around.” The paramedic watching her vital signs said.