Carol nodded. I looked at Cheryl. “I’ll pick you up here at six.”
“Okay.”
We hugged and I left. As soon as I was on the street, I called Grace and brought her up to date.
The trip back to the hotel was interesting emotionally. I was beyond happy that my daughter might be back in my life and happy that Carol now knew the truth; but both sad and disappointed that she had been so easily taken in by Wilson and Jacobson. Not once, but twice in the case of Wilson who, by all appearances, could come and go in her life as he pleased.
I decided to try to help her prosecute them if that’s what she chose to do. I was also going to see if there was anything I could do to them.
Grace was waiting when I opened the door. She flew into my arms and we held each other in the doorway.
The next two evenings Cheryl and I had dinner alone. Then, on Saturday, we spent the morning together before meeting Grace. I had told her about Grace at our first dinner. Both of them were nervous about meeting.
When Cheryl first saw Grace, “Fuck, she’s gorgeous,” came out of her mouth followed immediately by, “Oops, sorry, Dad.”
Grace’s first words to Cheryl were, “How’s your mother?”
“Better, but still in shock. Getting back to work will help her.”
It was a good day. We took her home and Grace met Carol. It went as well as could have been expected. I told Carol and Cheryl that the next day, Sunday, Grace and I had made arrangements for a VIP tour of one of the studios and asked if Cheryl wanted to come with us. She was excited.
“Which studio?” asked Carol. We told her. “That’s where I work. VIP Tours are rare. Sunday tours are even rarer. I’ll be working because they’re behind on shooting. Maybe I’ll see you.”
The next morning the limo furnished by the studio picked Grace and me up then we stopped by to get Cheryl. She had never ridden in a limo. I liked experiencing her excitement.
We toured most of the studio with one of their VIP escorts before going to the set where Michael was shooting. They told him we were there and he came over to us and hugged and kissed his mother. She introduced him to Cheryl, who was too shocked and wide eyed to say anything. He put his arm around her and said, “Come with me.” He led her off to introduce her to several other members of the cast. They were gone for about twenty minutes and when they came back, she was giggling like a little girl.
“I have to get back to work.” He kissed his mother, shook my hand and then kissed Cheryl on the cheek. “Don’t be strangers,” he said. “This guy is a Class Act,” I thought as he walked away.
Cheryl was literally beside herself. “Holy fuck. Sorry Dad”, she apologized, “but I am getting better. I can’t believe he’s your son,” she said to Grace.
The next time we saw him he was being prepped by the makeup people, costumers, and, of course, the script girl, Carol. When she brought him the new dialogue, he started talking to her then pointed at us. Cheryl waved at her. She looked pained when she smiled and waved back.
I haven’t seen much of Carol since that day. Cheryl now spends the school year with us, and her summers with her mother in California, but her California summers keep getting shorter because she prefers Houston and us. Whenever she comes home … Houston is home to her now … she tells us that Carol’s drinking problem is getting better.
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