The Rams game went about how I expected. The walk from the parking area reserved for box seat ticket holders wasn’t bad since we didn’t really mix with the main crowd at all, but the sky box was packed with players’ families, almost all of whom wanted selfies with Emmy.

  Of course she was gracious about it and spent almost the entire three hours chatting with various people, all smiles.

  “I don’t know how she does it,” Jenna said in a low voice. “I’d be a wreck.”

  “She’s always been like that,” I said. “She has always been able to charm anybody, any time. It’s a skill she’s developed since childhood.”

  “It’s a skill I wish I had,” Jenna said enviously. “I’ve never been good in situations like this.”

  “You said you and Andy don’t really spend much time with the other players and their families.”

  “No, we don’t much. I mean, it’s not like we go out of our way to avoid them, but it’s just not our scene, you know? Andy has friends on the team, and we’ve gone to some of their houses for dinner and whatever and some have come over to our place, but…” Jenna admitted.

  “We were kinda the same when I played V ball at Stanford. We just really didn’t seek out opportunities to hang out with other players socially. We had our own things going on,” I told her.

  Changing the subject, Jenna asked about the penthouse in London. “Angela used to show me pictures of furniture or fixtures or whatever from the designers. She made me swear not to ever mention it to you guys- she wanted it to be a complete surprise. Now that you’ve been there, how is it?”

  “Honestly, it’s amazing. Angela, Simon and William did an incredible job on the place. I really wish Angela could have seen it,” I said. “Emmy wants to ask Luisa in New York to paint a portrait of Angela for the London apartment. Some sort of way to share the place with her in spirit, I guess.”

  “I really miss her,” Jenna said, reminding me once again that Angela’s death was a loss for more than just Emmy and me.

  “Emmy wrote a song about her. She recorded a demo while we were in London- you should ask Emmy to play it for you. It’s really heart-breaking, but super sweet and, um, celebratory, too, somehow.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to hear something like that just yet. It’d probably wreck me,” Jenna said. “Tears come pretty quick when I think about her.”

  “I can certainly relate,” I agreed.

  The Rams won a close, high-scoring game that night, beating the Kansas City Chiefs by a field goal. The general mood in the sky box was a mix of excitement and elation, fueled by plenty of alcohol supplied by the wait staff.

  I kept my own drinking to just one crummy Old Fashioned, but Emmy had several glasses of the white wine which she said was only mostly terrible. We seemed to be in the minority, with most of the others pretty well sloshed by the end of the game.

  “I enjoyed the game tonight,” Emmy said as she washed my hair in our giant tub before bed.

  “Did you even watch that game at all?” I asked, amused.

  “No, not much,” Emmy admitted. “It was more of a social event than a sporting event.”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I said. “Really, if we want to actually watch the games, doing so with eighteen drunk women is probably not the best.”

  “No, you are right,” Emmy said, laughing musically. “But it is important to socialize.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “Speaking of which, did Jeremy really volunteer to cook for Wednesday’s dinner?”

  “He did,” Emmy confirmed. “He has been planning it for several days now. He is very excited about the idea of making food for twenty people.”

  “More power to him,” I said, enjoying the feel of Emmy’s fingers on my scalp. “I should ask him if there is anything I can do to help.”

  “Could you ask Rodney to tend the bar again? He did really well when we had him here last year,” Emmy asked.

  “Sure, I can do that,” I said as Emmy leaned me back to rinse my hair. I was enjoying the attention so much I probably would have agreed to anything just then, after all.

  After we dried off, Emmy stopped me from putting on any sleepwear.

  “I want us to sleep in the nude tonight,” she said. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

  “I’m O.K. with that,” I said, dropping my soft old T shirt like a hot potato.

  As it turned out, Emmy didn’t actually want sex that night. She just wanted to cuddle, to feel as close as two people ever could.

  I was O.K. with that, too. Emmy fell asleep quickly, tucked up underneath my arm, using my shoulder as a pillow. I had a harder time falling asleep, but eventually drifted off.

  I skipped going in to the office on Wednesday to help prepare for the big crowd we were expecting later on in the day.

  Mom, Tiffany, Madison and Lainey were the first to arrive. They’d carpooled together up from Fallbrook and Lake Elsinore, and there was some talk about maybe them all spending the night.

  Geoff and his family got there soon after, so the girls could swim. Sure, the weather was cool and windy, but the pool was heated and the hot tub was there to warm them up if they got chilled.

  “Wanna swim?” Tiffany asked Madison after Ginnie and Eileen had jumped into the back deck pool. “I have swimsuits here.”

  Madison looked conflicted, but eventually gave in after asking her mom if it was alright.

  “This is an amazing house you guys have,” Lainey said. We were sitting on deck chairs under a propane heater, watching the girls splash and play.

  “Is this your first time here?” Linda asked from the couch nearby.

  “No, second time,” Lainey said. “But it’s still amazing. I tried to describe the house to a friend, and I don’t think she could visualize it at all.”

  Laughing, Linda admitted that she had been in the same boat when Geoff told her they’d been invited over the first time. “Now it’s old hat for the girls,” she said, indicating where her daughters were engaged in a splash fight, “but I still sort of get a thrill when I think about how we get invited to a famous rock star’s house. No, it’s true,” Linda said, turning to me in response to the little laugh I’d let out. “We aren’t rich and famous. We live in a tract home in Reseda, you know? So it’s a real treat to get to see how the other half lives. And, you know,” she added, “to see that you guys are just real, decent people.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “We try,” I said, still amused.

  “Mom, is it O.K. if Tiff and me play on the racing rig when we’re done swimming?” Madison asked. Madison had borrowed a suit from Tiffany, but it was a bit too small so she was wearing a T shirt as a coverup. Looking at her, shivering and dripping water all over the deck, I realized that I wasn’t clear on how old she was. Was she sixteen? Seventeen? Heck, how old was Tiffany these days? The whole calendar year had seemed to pass by in a blur, since the start of The Downfall’s tour up to that moment.

  “Don’t ask me,” Lainey protested. “Ask Leah.”

  “Can we, Lee?” Tiffany asked her hands clasped together, her elbows just about touching each other in front of her belly button.

  “Sure, but when it’s time for dinner you have to come down and be social,” I told them. “And no whining for an additional five minutes.”

  “Racing rig?” Linda asked after the girls bolted for the hot tub to warm up.

  “Leah has a computer racing simulator up in her office. It’s really high-end- as realistic as you can get and not actually be in a race car,” Lainey explained.

  “Your daughter likes that?”

  “Mads just got her professional racing license,” Lainey said with more than just a hint of pride. “She’s going to be racing the Porsche Cup series this season.”

  “She drives a Porsche?” Linda asked. “How old even is she?”

  “Mads’ seventeenth birthday will fall on the same weekend as round three in Montreal,” Lainey said.

  “Hey Geoff!” Linda called, waving her husband over from where he’d been talking to Emmy. “Did you know that Lainey’s daughter is going to race the Porsche Cup this year?”

  “The GT3 series?” Geoff asked for clarification.

  Linda looked to Lainey and me for confirmation, so I nodded yes. “Her car should arrive at Hollywood Porsche mid-January. It really doesn’t give her much time to get used to the car, since the series starts the first weekend in April at Barber.”

  “Is she competitive?” Geoff asked, but it didn’t seem snarky.

  “We’ll find out,” I said with a shrug.

  “She won the SCCA series at Chuckwalla this year in her Evo,” Lainey said, defending her daughter. “She’s fast.”

  “She is fast,” I said to Lainey, “but it will be a completely new platform for her to learn. We’re going to get her as much track time as humanly possible once the car gets here, but there is a learning curve and a lot of the other drivers in the series have been racing it for years.”

  “I know,” Lainey said, her shoulders drooping a bit. “To tell you the honest truth, I’ll be happy if she finishes consistently in the top half of the field her first season. I don’t tell her that, though. I tell her to kick ass and take names, you know?”

  “I’d love to just try out a pure racing car like that some track day,” Geoff said, his voice wistful.

  “I ordered myself a new BMW, so my old one is up for sale if you want it,” I said.

  “I couldn’t even afford the tires on a machine like that,” Geoff said wryly. “But that reminds me- how much would the club member discount be on a new Cayenne?”

  “Geoff, you’d get the family discount. If you really are ready to buy, let me know and I’ll make sure you guys get the best possible deal,” I said.

  “In that purple color,” Linda interjected.

  “Mahogany metallic,” Geoff corrected.

  “Let me know,” I said with a laugh.

  We had quite a crowd after a while as more and more people showed up, but it was nice to have a house full of laughing, happy guests again. It had been far too long since the house had felt so full of life and noise, and I only found myself thinking that Angela would have loved this a few times over the course of the evening.

  Tiny did a fantastic job with dinner, making enough food to feed an army. I was very pleased at how he was stepping up his cooking game, and let him know several times over the course of the night. I heard quite a few other people give him compliments, too, and I could tell the big man was very pleased with himself. I can’t speak to how his grilled salmon tasted, but those who had it seemed to enjoy it. The roasted chicken, though- it was great. Nice and juicy, with a delightful crispy skin.

  The football game from two nights earlier was a big part of the dinner conversation, but so were cars, and our new place in London, and any number of other harmless topics.

  After dinner we all found ourselves breaking up into groups- some in the kitchen, some in the living room, some out on the deck. I wound up sitting with Teddy Bear, Andy and Jen out at the outside bar. At first it was because we were waiting for Rodney to make us drinks, then it was just inertia and conversation that kept us there.

  Teddy Bear told Jen and Andy about the Hollywood party that he’d dragged me to, wildly embellishing the story as only a professional actor truly can.

  “So, she’s, like, looking down at him, since she was about seven feet tall in her heels, right?” he said, emoting a seriously disdainful look. “She says, ‘You don’t even drive your cars in your movies? That’s sad,’ she says. He sputters something about insurance and liability and how the studio can’t have him hurt his face, and she just scoffs. You know that look Leah gets,” Teddy Bear said.

  “That ‘Why are you even talking?’ look?” Jen asked.

  “Exactly!” Teddy Bear said. “When Leah asked me later why I wanted her to go to this party with me I told her it was to crush some egos!”

  “I bet it did,” Andy said, raising his glass in a toast.

  “I didn’t see it happen, but I heard about it later from two different sources,” Teddy Bear said, getting into his subject. “So she walks up to where Liz Bouchard is talking to a couple of show runners, trying to get them to get her in the mix for the Jane Bond show everyone is talking about, right? You know, Liz from last year’s Supergirl movie, right? Anyhow, she’s working these two guys hard, and Leah strolls up and just interrupts to chat up one of the guys. Liz gets all bent out of shape and says something like ‘Excuse me, we were talking,’ right? So Leah, from about seven feet up, looks down at her and after a moment says, ‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you way down there.’ Just completely freaking busting her chops, you know?”

  “Ooh, ouch!” Jen said, laughing.

  “I know, right? So what can Liz do but tuck her tail between her legs and slink off!” Teddy Bear said with a laugh.

  Andy looked at me for confirmation and I just shrugged. “Teddy said he wanted me there to stir shit up, so I stirred shit up.”

  “So, after Liz stomped off in a huff, my guy asks Leah- he recognized her and knew who she was, unlike most of the people there- if she maybe wanted to try acting. Just, y’know, to have fun, give it a shot, whatever. She has a great look and she’s built like, well…”

  “I’ve seen her naked. I know exactly what she’s built like,” Jen said with a smirk.

  “You, too?” Andy asked, playing it up.

  Teddy Bear looked back and forth between the two. “Really?” he asked.

  “She’s an exhibitionist. I’m surprised you haven’t seen her naked,” Jen said.

  “Seriously-” I began, but Jen cut me off.

  “Don’t even try to deny it. More people you know have seen you naked than haven’t,” she said, poking me in the shoulder.

  “That actually might be true,” Andy said, thoughtfully.

  “Et tu, Brute?” I demanded.

  “I bet if we took a show of hands, the haves here tonight would outnumber the haven’ts,” Jen said.

  “You might have to not count the kids,” Andy said, thinking about it.

  “How do you go about getting on the ‘haves’ list?” Teddy Bear asked, sounding hopeful.

  “Just hang around long enough,” Jen said. “It’ll happen.”

  “See?” Teddy Bear said, indicating me. “This is what I love about Leah here. She can take a roasting and not get all defensive. Her ego is about the least fragile of anybody I’ve ever met.”

  “I never did mind about the little things,” I said with a shrug.

  “Why do you talk so dirty, Maggie?” Teddy Bear demanded, turning to me.

  “Why do you talk so faggy, Bob?” I asked back, leaving Andy and Jen completely baffled, but me and Teddy Bear in stitches.

  “Hey, it’s just about music time,” Jackson said as he walked up, sparing Teddy Bear and me from having to explain our exchange. “Ted, you still good?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” he said, hopping off his bar stool. “I just hope I don’t make a fool of myself.”

  “We’re all just friends here,” Jackson assured him.

  Curious, I followed them inside, where the furniture had been arranged into a sort of semicircle of seating. Emmy had her acoustic guitar. but Lee had dragged in an electric keyboard setup while Jackson had a set of bongo drums.

  Looking uncharacteristically nervous, Teddy Bear stood with the members of The Downfall. He nodded to Lee, who started playing the piano while Emmy strummed gently and Jackson beat a simple rhythm.

  “Everybody knows that the dice are loaded,” Teddy Bear sang in a surprisingly smooth voice. “Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed. Everybody knows that the war is over, everybody knows that the good guys lost.”

  As the song continued the playing increased in volume, but so did Teddy Bear’s voice. “Everybody knows it’s all coming apart- take one last look at this sacred heart, before it blows,” Teddy sang with urgency and passion, his voice filling our large living room.

  “Everybody knows, that’s how it goes,” he finished, more like a long sigh than sung words.

  After the applause died down, he grinned sheepishly. “I know I can’t hold a candle to Emmy or Jackson, but thanks for letting me take up your time,” Teddy Bear said before taking a seat in the back row with me.

  “Dude, you knocked it out of the park,” I told him. “That was awesome! I had no idea you could sing.”

  “My mom played the piano at our church when I was young, so I was on the church choir from the time I was little,” he said with a dismissive shrug. “As an actor, voice is super important, you know? So I still take lessons.”

  “Makes sense,” I admitted.