Chapters (79)
- EXT. BALCONY - MALIBU SHORES INN
- MAIN TITLES
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- MALIBU COLONY HOME
- COLONY COFFEE SHOP
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. BANQUET HALL
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOUSE,
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- EXT. MALIBU COLONY BEACH
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. DEPARTMENT STORE, BEVERLY HILLS
- INT. MALIBU COLONY HOME
- INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOME
- INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. BEL AIR MANSION
- EXT. BEVERLY HIGH
- INT. BELAIR MANSION
- LIHUE, HAWAII AIRPORT
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. PEYSER AGENCY
- EXT. FRANKLIN APTS
- INT. SUNSET GOWER STUDIOS
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. SUNSET GOWER STUDIO
- INT. HUGO’S RESTAURANT
- INT. SUNSET GOWER STUDIO
- INT. WINNEBAGO
- INT. BEVERLY HILLS MANSION
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- EXT. THE GATES OF HEAVEN
- EXT. PARAMOUNT STUDIOS
- INT. HOSPITAL ICU
- PARAMOUNT STUDIOS
- CLOSE UP: BRETT HANEY’S FACE
- INT. ICU
- INT. SPAGO RESTAURANT
- INT. JACKIE AND BRETT’S HOUSE
- INT. JACKIE AND BRETT’S KITCHEN
- INT ICU
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. JACKIE AND BRETT’S HOUSE
- INT. JACKIE AND BRETT’S KITCHEN
- INT. JACKIE AND BRETT’S HOUSE
- CLOSE UP: JACKIE’S HAND HOLDING A LETTER
- INT. MEDICAL OFFICE
- INT: HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. SPAGO RESTAURANT
- UNIVERSAL STUDIOS
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- EXT. DOROTHY CHANDLER PAVILION
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. DOROTHY CHANDLER PAVILION
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. BEL AIR MANSION
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. JACKIE AND BRETT’S HOUSE
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. MALIBU SHORES INN
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- INT. MALIBU SHORES INN
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- EXT. MALIBU SHORES INN
- INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
- FADE IN:
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Oh my God, was it happening now? I wasn’t ready. Brett took my chin in his hands. My heart raced.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“I made reservations for six-thirty. Should I make them later?”
“That’s your question?”
“Well yes. Why? What did you think I was going to say?”
“Nothing. Yes. I’m starving. Let’s go.”
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
MORNING
DAY 54
Emme wheels in a cart piled with warm towels. Her movements are buffered, noiseless as she switches off the overhead fluorescents left on by Florence, and raises the blinds sending dust particles in the sunlight around her soft frame. She fills the shallow basin and washes the area around my feeding tube tenderly as if it were the stump of an infant’s umbilical cord. Lately, she comes at odd hours and spends a long time bathing me, washing my hair, and massaging my limbs; I wonder how she can devote so much of her shift just to my care. Maybe Daddy or Anna made arrangements with the hospital or are paying her directly. Whatever the situation, I am grateful.
It’s been twenty-four hours since my mother’s visit. Likely she’s passed out in her hotel room., or maybe flown back to Hawaii. Regardless, her absence is a mercy.
Emme hums as she begins rubbing her sweet-scented cream into my hands and feet; soft melodies, lullabies. “The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow… and what will the robin do then? Poor thing…” Bobby pins hold back the bangs that normally frame her face. A new sprinkling of freckles suggests an afternoon spent in the sun, perhaps gardening. “He’ll sleep in the barn and keep himself warm and hide his head under his wing poor thing…”
If I could do my life over, I would pick Emme for my best friend. We would spend our evenings watching I Love Lucy reruns and eating Chinese takeout. And I wouldn’t be in show business. No, I would be something dear and decent like Emme; a nurse or a kindergarten teacher. Okay, maybe that’s pushing it. I don’t know what I’d be, but I would have my old nose and boobs. And I would be nicer to waiters and remember their names. And I would have children. And I would raise them someplace in nature with lakes and with seasons so that they could know about snow and spring and cycles; that birth and death and coming and going are not necessarily personal. And my children and I would visit Anna and Daddy on the holidays and send cards and photos to all our relatives. And I would find it in my heart—my new heart, bigger like my old nose—I would find it in my big new plus-size open heart to forgive.
SLOW DISSOLVE TO: