Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Oh, that old thing,” she said, waving her hand. “I wondered where that had gotten to.”
I held it out to her. “I read the first page before realizing what it was.”
“You can read the whole thing if you can get through my teenage angst.” Her laugh was a tinkle. “There’s nothing in there that I have to hide.”
“Really? I can read it?” I asked in disbelief. I couldn’t imagine handing over my deepest thoughts to anyone.
“When you get older, you’ll realize you don’t care what anyone thinks about you anymore. I had to learn that at a young age. It’s what’s kept me going all these years.”
“I’ve had to learn that lesson too.”
I remembered all the things that had cut into me while working on Academy—my two failed marriages and all the drama over the years. I’d wanted so desperately to be taken seriously, to matter. But I’d had to give up so much of myself to reach for that, and it hadn’t gotten me anywhere.
“Well, I’m off for tea with Nancy. You’re welcome to join.”
“I’m actually going to see Amelia for lunch.”
“Amelia Ballentine?” she asked in surprise. I nodded. “She’s lovely. Her little boutique on Broughton is taking off.”
“I’m excited to see it. I need a dress for tonight.”
My mother waggled her fingers at me. “Off I go. Enjoy your lunch.”
I shook my head as she sauntered back down the stairs. We’d never gotten along, but she sure had style.
I wiped off the dust on my thighs as I got up out of the rocking chair. The diary felt heavy in my hand for such a little thing. Maybe it would finally give me answers to all the questions I had about my mother. She’d said that she had nothing to hide, but I still didn’t understand why she’d left my dad and married Edward. Why she’d abandoned me so easily but insisted I come here every summer. Why she claimed to love me but could throw me away so easily.
One key point in scriptwriting was understanding character motivations. As an actress, I frequently sought out the scriptwriter to discuss the character with them and get to the heart of who the person really was. Maybe this diary would give me a kernel of insight into who my mother was. Because everything I knew about her was clouded with what she’d done to me.
Or it might just show me that she had always been the same person.
I sighed and headed back downstairs. I wasn’t optimistic, but I was curious.
Ballentine was the chicest boutique in downtown Savannah. Amelia’s clothing store was doing so well that she’d bought out the store next door and expanded to fill both spaces. The clothes were fashionable without breaking the bank. Already, the store was full of young girls browsing the wares.
The owner stood by the cash register in sleek white cigarette pants and a ruffled baby-blue top. Her dark hair grazed her waist, and she sipped a sweet tea. Her eyes widened when she saw me walk inside, and she shot me a pageant-queen wave.
The cashier looked up and saw me and gaped. “Is that Josephine Reynolds?” she whisper-shouted at Amelia.
Amelia laughed as I approached and drew me into a quick hug. “Yes, this is Josie.”
“Hey, Amelia.”
“I heard that Academy was shooting in town, but wow,” the young girl said with wide eyes. “You’re Josephine Reynolds.”
I grinned at her and sank into my hip. “That’s right. Want a selfie?”
Her eyes shot to Amelia. “Would that be okay, Amelia?”
“Go for it.”
I snapped a quick shot with the girl and then followed Amelia away from the cash register. I loved my fans even if it was still surreal that I had this rabid of a following, even a decade later.
“You’re the talk of the town,” Amelia said.
“What else is new?”
She chuckled. “True, true. I’m glad you’re back, whatever the reason.”
Amelia had been two years younger than us in school. So, we hadn’t become friends until after graduation. I’d been working on Academy for a few years, and she’d recently graduated from Parsons with a fashion degree. She was working with a designer in New York City and dressed me for more than one red carpet event. I’d been surprised when she left New York to open a boutique in her hometown, but she always just shrugged and said the South owned her heart. I suspected there was more to it.
“Not to be a fangirl,” Amelia said, “but …”
“You want to meet Martin?”
Amelia blushed. “Look, I’ve been obsessed with Martin Harper since he was on the Disney Channel.”
“Yeah. Most girls our age were.”
“Is it weird? I don’t want it to be weird. I know he’s your ex.”
“It’s not weird. I don’t have any feelings about Martin anymore. Plus, I would never come between him and his mega fan, who papered her walls with his magazine pictures.”