“But, it’s on video,” the young woman replied. Addison narrowed her gaze. “You know, Sandra coming to your house and locking it in the morning? Like, her kid is living there too! They showed it, you know? Her letting these people with baby furniture in.”

  Adam watched Addison carefully. She was obviously irritated, but outwardly she remained in control. He sipped his beer and listened as Addison navigated the minefield of entertainment media rumors. The entire exchange made him feel like he was living in a movie.

  Addison was annoyed. It wasn’t the rumor that had gotten under her skin. It was the surprise she had planned for Emma that she would now be forced to reveal that had officially pissed her off. She’d worked on the surprise for two weeks and had enlisted Christie and Sandra’s help. “Surprise ruined. Thanks a lot—jerks,” Addison mumbled. She bit her lip and looked at the waitress. “Why are people so stupid?” she silently wondered. She sighed. “Well, there will be a new crib in our house. That’s true,” she said. The waitress grinned. “Yeah, Emma hates putting furniture together, especially when she’s pregnant,” Addison said. The waitress almost swallowed her tongue. Addison grinned evilly. “So? I think we’ll have another round. If you don’t mind,” Addison said. “Looks like my dad is on empty, and I’m not all that far behind,” she explained, effectively ending the conversation and dismissing the young woman. The waitress nodded and scurried off. “Just fucking great,” Addison muttered and promptly chugged the rest of her beer.

  “Does that happen a lot?” Adam asked.

  “You mean someone thinking that I’m sleeping with my wife’s co-star or that I out my wife’s pregnancy to the world without talking to her?” Adam stared at his daughter. Addison shrugged. “First time for both.”

  “Do you think Emma will be upset?”

  “About me living with Sandra? No,” Addison said. Adam looked concerned, and Addison chuckled. “She’ll be annoyed that people are so petty, but she’s used to it. As used to it as anyone can get, I guess,” Addison explained.

  “What about…”

  “Mm. Me telling The National Enquirer over there that she’s pregnant?” Addison asked. Adam cringed slightly. “She’ll forgive me. I probably won’t get any cookies for a few days,” Addison said.

  Adam noted her smile. “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

  “I didn’t, not very well anyway—not at first,” Addison told her father. “But, Emma? She’s been at it longer than me.”

  “Think she’ll go back?”

  “You mean to acting?” Addison asked. Adam nodded. “Eventually, yeah. After this? Not for a good while, I suspect.”

  “Why not?” he wondered. “Because of the kids?” he wagered a guess.

  Addison fell silent as the waitress returned with two more beers. She lifted the bottle to her mouth to keep from opening it and inserting her foot again until the waitress left. She watched the waitress disappear behind the bar and turned back to her father. “Yeah, but not for the reasons you might think. Well, partly. She likes being Mom, you know? She really does,” Addison smiled. “And, I’m pretty sure she’ll want one more go round before we are done.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Addison said. “Don’t ask me. Maybe it’s all just rumors like the impending doom of my marriage and my rebound love affair. I always heard being the middle child sucked. She seems to have liked it.”

  “So, she doesn’t want to work anymore?”

  Addison groaned softly. “I don’t think it’s that,” she said. “I mean, it is that. She wants to be home with them as much as she can be while they’re small. I just think she might decide to extend that until they give us grandchildren,” Addison said.

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “It’s everything that goes with it—being on screen. It’s not the work; it’s the bull shit. She always tells me that we were living under a microscope when Off Screen was running. Now, it’s more like a telescope. Hell, she’s not even working on the new show, and the rumors have started,” Addison shook her head. “Think about your kids hearing that crap about you.”

  Adam thought silently for a minute. “Do you think she would miss it?”

  “Acting?” Addison asked. “Yeah. She already does, although she won’t fess up to it. I think she misses just being creative to tell you the truth. Being on a set, a good one anyway, there’s nothing like it. It can be grueling, but it’s fun too. If you are lucky enough to get a great crew… Well, it gets in your blood. And, she’s good. Actually, she’s better than good.”

  “As an actress?”

  “That, but at the whole thing. Emma? She knows how to get people to work. People want to work with her. She’s smart. She’s been around television since she was still a kid if you think about it. She’s a good listener; you know? She learned a lot.”

  Adam nodded. He and Addison had not talked this much in years. He wasn’t sure that they ever had. Maybe it was the beer, but the conversation felt natural to him. “Well, maybe she can do something other than acting,” he said, taking another sip of his beer.

  “You know, she’s quite the fisherman,” Addison said.

  “Really? Ever manage to catch herself?” Adam teased his daughter.

  Addison huffed. “Not that I know of. But, she did catch me… By the way? You’re buying the next round,” she replied.

  Chapter Eight

  Emma tried not to laugh at Addison and Adam. Addison rarely got drunk. Emma had never told Addison that she was secretly compiling stories for future years when one of their teenage or adult children might need a lighthearted tale about Momma. Two words that Emma would use to describe an inebriated Addison—uncoordinated and babbling.

  “I didn’t mean to, Em. She just was,” Addison began to tell her story for the third time since they had left the bar.

  “I think she liked you,” Adam slurred from the back seat.

  “Nah. They all like Em,” Addison said. Emma sniggered. “Em?”

  “Yes, Addy?” Emma played her role to perfection.

  “She just wouldn’t shut up,” Addison explained.

  “So you said,” Emma replied.

  “Yeah, but first she thought I was sleeping with Sandra. I mean, me sleeping with Sandra? These people are so…”

  “Well, technically you did sleep with her,” Emma said.

  “What?” Adam leaned forward.

  “In the same house,” Emma explained.

  Addison huffed. “I’m sorry, Em.”

  “For letting Sandra pass out on our couch?” Emma asked.

  “No…”

  “For idiots with too much time on their hands and no life?”

  “No….”

  Emma kept her eyes on the road. “What are you sorry for?”

  “You know. I let the cat outta the bag.”

  Emma smirked in the darkness. She didn’t care who knew about her pregnancy. And, she didn’t care how they found out about it. Although, she was positive that a completely sober Addison would never have given up the information to a stranger, particularly not a gossip queen. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you don’t hang out in bars too often,” Emma observed.

  “Em…”

  “I’d hate for everyone to know how much you love my cookies or how much I hate when you clip your toenails in the bedroom.”

  Addison groaned. “I’d never tell anyone that… I mean, about your cookies.

  “Everybody likes your cookies, Emma,” Adam said innocently.

  Emma was relieved that she was pulling up to her parent’s house, and she was grateful for the darkness that enveloped the car. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep a straight face much longer. A small part of her was perturbed by the latest rumor about her marriage. It provided more evidence that supported her decision to step back from the spotlight. But, her irritation paled by comparison to her happiness for Addison. She had no idea what had transpired between Addison and her father, and she was aware that lots of healing still needed to take place. Nevertheless, it was evident that a major hole had been knocked out of the wall that had stood between Addison and Adam for years. The relief that rolled off both was palpable, as if they could finally breathe. Emma stopped the car and looked behind her in the rearview mirror to see her father doing the same with Addison’s rental car.

  “Do I need to have my dad carry you two in or do you think you can make it on your own?” Emma teased. Addison grumbled and opened her door. Emma giggled. She made her way to Addison’s side and shook her head affectionately. “What did you drink?” she whispered.

  “Beer,” Addison replied.

  “Just beer?”

  “A lot of beer,” Addison answered as Emma helped her through the door to their bedroom. “Em… I really am sorry—for everything.”

  Emma wrapped her arm around Addison. “Let’s go to bed,” she said. “Goodnight, Adam,” she turned to Addison’s father. “Do you need help to your room too?” she teased him.

  “Uh-uh,” Addison waved a finger. “He already likes your cookies.”

  Emma swatted Addison gently. “Say goodnight, Addy.”

  “Goodnight, Addy,” Addison grinned.

  “Bed. Now,” Emma pointed to their room.

  Tom turned to his daughter and laughed. “They are both going to be sporting headaches in the morning.”

  Emma smiled. “I imagine it will be worth it,” she said.

  “What do you think happened?” he asked.

  “I have no idea, but if I knew that beer was the answer to getting them to talk, I would’ve purchased a keg long ago.”

  Tom nodded. “I think it was more than that.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Emma said. “Goodnight, Dad.”

  “Night, Emmie,” he said with a kiss to her cheek.

  Emma opened the bedroom door and stopped in her tracks. Addison was pulling her T-shirt over her head. Emma shut the door quietly and bit her lip gently. There were moments that for no particular reason, Emma found the breath stolen from her body just looking at Addison. Once in a while, those moments occurred on monumental occasions. More often, Emma found herself rendered speechless by simple things—things like Addison pulling a T-shirt over her head clumsily. Emma smiled and closed the distance between them, swiftly taking over Addison’s task and discarding the T-shirt to the floor.

  Addison looked at Emma and Emma kissed her tenderly. “He doesn’t hate me,” Addison whispered.

  Emma pulled back and stroked Addison’s cheek. “Of course, he doesn’t hate you, Addy. He loves you.”

  “Yeah.”

  Addison sounded like a small child to Emma. Emma lifted Addison’s chin with her forefinger. Alcohol lowered a person’s defenses measurably. Addison had erected numerous defenses against her emotions when it came to her father. Those had clearly crumbled. “Addy…”

  Addison closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He told me a lot of things,” Addison said, sobering as she spoke.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Emma asked.

  Addison shook her head and opened her eyes. “Yes, but not tonight.”

  Emma nodded. “You probably could use some aspirin and some sleep,” she observed. Addison took Emma’s face in her hands and shook her head again. “Addy?”

  “I love you, Emma.”

  “I know,” Emma replied. “Come on…”

  “No,” Addison held Emma in place. “I love you.”

  “Addy?”

  Addison leaned in and kissed Emma reverently. “I never want to be without you,” Addison whispered.

  Emma led Addison to the bed. Sometimes, words were not enough between them. Eventually, Addison was certain to confide all the details of the night to Emma. Emma didn’t need any details to understand what Addison was saying. Loss never left a person altogether. She imagined that at some point in Addison’s evening, loss had been a topic of conversation—the loss of the person both Addison and her father had loved the most. That topic had been taboo for years—too many years. Without question, it had made Addison’s thoughts travel to their family—to Emma. Her mother’s words were beginning to ring in Emma’s head. “You’re the steady light that helps her find her way home. Just be that.” Sherry had been right as usual. Addison always found her way home, knowing that Emma would be waiting.

  Emma kissed Addison’s forehead and moved to unbutton Addison’s jeans. She pulled them off Addison’s hips and directed Addison to sit on the bed. Emma dropped down and pulled off Addison’s boots, then her jeans, and tossed both aside. She smiled at Addison, seeing both desire and emotion shimmering in Addison’s eyes. Emma took a step backward and slowly undressed in front of Addison, enjoying the way Addison’s eyes roamed over her body appreciatively. She gently pushed Addison back on the bed and straddled her hips. “Addy, I will always be with you. No matter what.”

  Addison closed her eyes. Tears escaped beneath her tightly shut eyelids, and Emma kissed them away. “Shh,” Emma whispered.

  “I don’t ever want to miss you,” Addison confessed.

  Emma kissed Addison’s forehead again tenderly, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips. “No one can predict tomorrow, honey. We both know that,” Emma said. Addison sighed deeply. “But, I promise you that I have no intention of going anywhere for a long time, not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Addison looked up at Emma. “Me neither.”

  Emma smiled. “I love you too, Addy,” she reminded her wife. She leaned in and captured Addison’s lips in an intense kiss. The faint taste of beer and salt lingered on Addison’s lips. Emma could smell a hint of cigar smoke on Addison’s skin. She smiled inwardly. Addison never smoked unless she was drinking. Even then, Emma had only seen Addison indulge in a cigar twice. Once, after Vicki had been born with Emma’s father, and after the screening of the pilot episode for Off Screen with Jeff and Tamara. She’d smelled it one other time—the night before their wedding when Addison had appeared in her room. Emma suspected her brother had encouraged it that night. All of those times had marked something significant and meaningful for Addison. Something meaningful had transpired between Addison and her father. Like each of the other times, she had sought out Emma’s affection afterward.

  Emma let her lips tenderly fall down Addison’s throat while her hands worked their way upward gradually from Addison’s hips. She breathed in Addison’s scent and reveled in the softness of Addison’s skin. Addison’s fingertips played with the waves of Emma’s hair, gently urging her on without any sound. Emma stole a glance at Addison. Addison’s eyes had closed in what Emma recognized as a mixture of arousal and contentment. This night could take two directions. Emma could continue touching Addison, intentionally arousing her with her touch or Emma could gentle her explorations to a soothing caress and pull Addison into her arms to sleep. Either would likely be welcomed by the woman she loved. Emma smiled. She would endeavor to accomplish both. That was one of the things she treasured most about her life with Addison. Emotion never tempered passion; emotion always ruled passion. Making love could be soft and slow or fast and desperate. No matter what ruled the moment, inevitably they fell into each other’s embrace. If Emma was the light that shined for Addison, Addison was surely Emma’s safe harbor.

  Emma’s lips fell again, this time softly over Addison’s shoulder. Lovingly they traveled inward until Emma’s lips reached the top of Addison’s cleavage. She lifted her hand to trace over the outline of Addison’s breasts and felt Addison suck in a shaky breath. Emma moved to come face to face with Addison, leaving her fingers to continue their gentle exploration. She coaxed Addison’s eyes open with a series of faint kisses. “Addy,” Emma called to her. “Look at me.”

  Addison’s eyes opened. Emma smiled at her, and Addison reached up to tuck Emma’s hair behind her ears. “You are so beautiful, Em.”

  “Tell me,” Emma said. “What do you need?” she asked.

  A powerful surge of love coursed through Addison with a warm rush. Emma’s question was not meant to be playful nor was it intended to impart any sexual innuendo. No one knew Addison better than Emma. Emma understood that they were riding a tide of intense emotion. And, when it finally crested, it was likely to break any remaining vestiges of the dam that Addison had spent years erecting. Addison smiled at her wife. Emma had always told Addison that Addison was the gentlest soul she’d ever known. Looking at Emma, Addison wished that Emma could see herself through Addison’s eyes. Emma was genuinely kind, humble, and compassionate. As much as Addison loved Emma, she also admired the woman hovering above her. Gratefulness—that was the overriding sentiment now. Addison was grateful; grateful for the woman that loved her, grateful for the life they shared, and the family they had created.

  “What is it?” Emma asked Addison.

  “You.”

  “Me?” Emma asked.

  Addison took Emma’s face in her hands and brought their lips together tenderly. Emma’s forehead fell softly against hers. “I need to make love with you,” Addison whispered. “I need to know you’re here.”

  Emma pulled back and smiled. “I’m always here,” she put her hand over Addison’s heart. “Just like you are always with me.” She placed a sweet kiss of understanding on Addison’s lips.

  Addison’s eyes fluttered closed as Emma’s hand drifted over her skin gently in a calming yet arousing caress. Addison sighed.

  “Don’t close your eyes, Addy,” Emma requested. Addison opened her eyes and looked at Emma. “I need you too,” Emma said.

  Addison understood the implicit request. She shifted so that Emma could lie beside her. “I missed you,” Addison admitted.

  Emma kissed Addison again. “You taste like beer and cigars,” she whispered.

  Addison chuckled. “You taste like sunshine.”

  Emma’s lips moved to Addison’s neck. “What does sunshine taste like?” she whispered in Addison’s ear.

 

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