This script is perfect for you.” Rosie held the script out to her. “I was going to send it over this afternoon, but since you’re here you might as well take it now.” Rosie shook the manuscript a little to try and get her to take it but Helga just looked at Rosie with contempt.
Helga took a menacing step into the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me Brian wanted me? Don’t you think it was a decision I should have made myself? This is too big of an opportunity to pass up! What on earth were you thinking, Rosie?” With each question she took a step closer to Rosie. The elation she had felt when she was on the phone to Brian had charged her with excitement and now made the anger all the more pronounced. Why had her agent told him no?
Rosie dropped her arm holding the manuscript and looked at her with pity.
“Darling, I don’t want to be the one to tell you. I honestly thought you already knew, anyway. But you can’t take on that role. Everyone knows your acting abilities are better suited to romcom.”
“In other words, you don’t think I’m able to do it, is that it?” Helga could feel her jaw dropping open. Her own agent thought her acting was shit. “You don’t think I’m good enough.” She ran her fingers through her curls in frustration. Why did no one believe in her anymore? “How can anyone know if I can or can’t do a serious role if I’m never given the opportunity? Why must I always be stuck in the same role all the time, Rosie?” She could feel tears of frustration gathering behind her eyeballs.
Rosie moved back around her desk and sank slowly into her chair.
“It’s not that I don’t think you can act the role, darling, it’s the fact that you have never done a serious role and I fear it’s too late to try. The audience just won’t accept you as a serious character now. You’ve played too many ditsy blondes to all of a sudden change to a hard-hitting lawyer defending a sexual predator. Well, surely you can see the problem?” She leaned forward over her desk and rested her chin on her steepled fingers. “Listen, Helga, you are immensely talented – we all know that – but the fact is the last few films you’ve done have bombed at the box office and have barely broke even. You are becoming a risk and frankly, Helga, if you choose to take this offer from Brian, I’m not sure you will ever receive another offer…of any kind.”
“So that’s it then? You’re giving up on me? Just like that?”
“No darling, I’m not giving up at all. I will be more than happy to represent you if you sign this contract.” Rosie picked the discarded script off her desk and held it out to Helga.
Helga looked at the papers. She couldn’t bring herself to reach out for them. She would be giving up on her dream of working with the great Brian Hargrave if she took Rosie’s offer. Since she started acting, it was this moment she was striving for. She knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that she wouldn’t likely be offered again.
She shook her head and turned towards the door.
“Sorry, Rosie, I can’t. Thanks for all the help over the years. I’ll show myself out.”
She walked down the corridor with her head held high and her stride purposeful. She didn’t even pause when she heard Rosie calling her name. She let out a deep breath only when she was safely inside the elevator.
The truck flew over the cattle stop. Dust trailed his 1994 Dodge pickup as it bounced over washboards on the gravel road leading to the ranch. He’d reached Home Hill. The first place on the road from which the ranch house could be seen in the distance. He pulled over on the side of the road, stopped his truck and got out. Benjamin Ander Copeland couldn’t believe he was home. He’d avoided this place for the last two years. Too many painful memories floated about the place. Despite himself, a warm feeling invaded his chest and for the first time in a long time Ben felt a smile crease his face. He scrubbed it away. It didn’t feel right smiling here.
The smell of spring filled the air and assaulted his senses. Sagebrush, newly budding poplar and willow trees, bullberry bushes and new prairie grasses all sent fragrance into the air. Not for the first time in his life he was grateful he didn’t have allergies. It smelled like home. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs.
The remnant of last year’s grass scrunched beneath his cowboy boots as he climbed the small rise for a better view of the house. His dad had built the house for his mother not long after they’d gotten married. Before then they’d lived in the bunkhouse across the yard; a place where Benjamin had spent a fair bit of time in his last few years of high school. It had been his hiding place from his overzealous sisters. If he’d only known how life would have turned out, he would have stolen every moment he could with them.
“Well, Rachel,” he said to the air around him, “you’ve got your wish. I’m home now.” Benjamin stared down at the flat rock at his feet, marking the place his sister’s ashes had been spread two years ago. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea though. I’ve been away so long.” He cleared his throat and looked back towards the house. It was partially obscured by hills and trees but he could still see the roofline. His throat tightened at the sight. “I’ll come back and see you soon.”
He turned from the memorial and walked back to his truck. He sat there behind the wheel for a moment, fighting the memories. He took a deep breath and turned the key. It was time to go home.
His mom was waiting in the driveway when he pulled up. He was barely out of the truck before she was wrapping her arms around him.
“Benjamin Copeland, you’ve been away far too long. Don’t you put me through that again.” She loosened her hug and looked up at him. “I need you, you hear? And you need to be with your family.” She smiled, kissed his cheek and then let him go. “Come on in, dinner’s about ready.”
She hurried into the house before him but kept looking over her shoulder at him, making sure he did as he was told. Some things never changed, he thought. Even after all these years, his mom could still make him feel like a little boy. He gladly followed her into the kitchen; he could smell something good.
“Ben!”
Umph.
A whorl of golden hair flew at him. He barely had time to open his arms and catch his sister before she collided into him.
“Watch it, Beth,” he told her, a smile spreading across his face.
“Where the hell have you been, Ben?” Beth dropped her arms and stood before him with her hands on her hips.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Am I late?” He glanced at the wall where the kitchen clock had hung his whole life. “Where the hell’s the clock?”
“Mind your language, Benjamin,” his mother said from the stove where she was stirring gravy.
“What? She swore too,” he said incredulously.
“Mom,” said Beth. “Hell, is not a swear word.”
“It is in this house.” She turned back to her gravy.
Beth rolled her eyes at him and smiled.
“It’s good to have you back, big brother…but you should have come home long before now.”
