Episode 20: Intermission
intermission: a short break between two parts of a movie, show, or concert
The Bryant family took a Friday trip to the beach two days before the Academy Awards. Though ditching school for fun in the sun wasn’t the kind of habit Tallulah wanted to instill in Milo, they all needed a break. However, leave it to Nick to turn a typical day at the beach into something ridiculously lascivious. It began when he and Milo agreed to take the hour-long trip to Malibu in an emerald-green convertible.
It whizzed down CA-1 North with its top down and rap blasting from the speakers. Once upon a time, Tallulah’s idea of contentment was sunbathing on Santa Monica Beach with earplugs wedged in her ears to drown out noisy crowds. But after the NallyVacay.com scandal, they headed to Nick’s beach house in star-studded Broad Beach for privacy.
A neighborhood where his neighbors were the likes of Goldie Hawn, Pierce Brosnan, and Steven Spielberg.
A security detail tailed them every bit of the way.
Upon arriving at his vacation residence, Tallulah learned then and there that the term “beach house” was a loose interpretation to describe the behemoth 3-level modernistic mansion on a low bluff. All high glass windows and white frames.
After gathering their belongings from the car, they used private stairs to descend to the pristine, empty beach and found a pleasant spot to set up shop. They unfurled towels and fanned them out in the sand. Tallulah sat down on her towel, smiling weakly as the two boys in her life took off their shirts and worked together to provide a shady spot of relaxation.
Armed with a hand shovel, Milo dug a deep hole for the beach umbrella’s corkscrew-end that Nick twisted and twisted until he was satisfied with its stability.
Then Milo patched up the hole with the pile of loose sand.
Nick arched an eyebrow. “We’re good to go, kid?”
“Locked and loaded, sir,” he said with a grin, giving a military salute. “Last one to the water is a rotten egg!”
Then Milo hopped to his feet and darted toward the lapping waves. With a playful roar, Nick chased after the little boy, gaining speed easily and scooping him up from behind. Milo let out a giddy laugh, squirming in his father’s arms. Nick marched out into the ocean and plunged into a mellow, cresting wave.
Tallulah shook her head, her weak smile strengthening at the sight. Under the umbrella’s shade, she adjusted her pink-tinted sunglasses as she watched the father and son wrestle and splash about.
It was a welcomed reprieve from drowning in the bullshit left behind in Hollywood. After the revenge site’s web host received legal threats, they snatched it down within hours, but by then, the visitor count was just north of four million. The authorities were also working on getting a warrant to retrieve the site owner’s on-file domain registration and billing information.
No one would truly ever know the extent of how many downloads of the videos were out there. Tallulah’s stomach twisted at the thought that one day, when their son was older, he’d know those sex tapes existed.
He isn’t the only one, a tiny voice nagged.
She looked down at the curve of her belly, which filled out the black crochet cover-up dress and the high-waisted pinup two-piece she wore. Only a day had passed since she held that positive pregnancy test. A blood test and ultrasound were needed to confirm, but months of unprotected sex, missed periods, and the exact symptoms from her first pregnancy’s first trimester were hard to refute.
Now, one day, both their children would know.
After a while, Nick hoisted a defeated but content Milo onto his shoulder and marched back to share, dripping wet and undeniably gorgeous. Once he put their son down, Milo wasted no time. He grabbed his hand shovel and pail, meandering off in a parent-observable distance to make a sandcastle.
Nick eased down on a towel beside hers.
She cocked a delicate eyebrow, asking, “Have fun?”
“Absolutely,” he said before he wagged his wet head, splattering her with salty droplets.
“Nick,” she huffed, punching him in the arm.
He chuckled throatily and reached for her, bracing her nape with his calloused hand.
“I apologize for getting you,” he kissed her mouth, then bowed down to place a circle of kisses on her stomach, “and you wet.”
For a moment, her eyelids fluttered shut at the weight of his lips on her. She tried to savor his affection, but her worries spoiled those chances.
Tallulah rested a hand on his soggy hair. “Nick, we need to talk.”
As Milo sculpted his sandcastle yards away and scattered security stood vigilant in the distance, now was the perfect time to discuss business.
He pinned her with a look of suspicion as he sat upright.
As if he knew what she’d say next.
She cleared her throat nervously and focused on the lapping turquoise waters.
“With everything going on with the scandal, I think it’s best to stay home from the awards.”
“If you stay home, I’ll stay too.”
Tallulah swiveled her attention to him, her mouth slacking open in shock.
His name tripped on her tongue. “Nicholas—”
He cut her off smoothly, reiterating, “If you stay home, I’ll stay too, Desiree. It’s as simple as that.”
She swung her head in a fierce no. “You’re a Best Actor nominee! Your fourth nomination, at that. Perfect Angle Cinema spent ten million bucks on a publicity campaign to ensure the Academy took you seriously as a contender. The studio would lose their absolute damn minds if you don’t go.”
“I couldn’t care less about the studio. I wouldn’t be a nominee or even an actor without you,” Nick’s gaze settled on Milo and his sandcastle, “and all your sacrifices. Now, it’s my turn to take care of our family.”
Tallulah narrowed her eyes at him and exhaled deeply, her shoulders rising and falling from the gust of frustration. “You’re being stubborn, Nick.”
“I don’t think that’s what I’m being at all,” he said.
Tallulah opened her mouth to speak, but their son’s voice reached them, cutting her off.
“Mom! Come look at this!” Milo shouted, waving his hands excitedly. “You gotta see!”
“I’m coming,” she said, casting Nick one last glance before she stood and walked to the sandcastle and its architect.
Not wanting to face Nick alone, she spent the rest of the time with Milo, helping him add decorative features to his castle, from twigs to shells, even digging a little moat, carrying a bucket out to the water and pouring in the saltwater to fill it.
It was a good break.
For a moment, Tallulah felt normal.
As if sex tapes of her and Nick weren’t spreading across the internet like wildfire. She tried to push it away in the back of her mind, to just relish these brief moments where she was a mom helping her son build a grand sandcastle.
Every once in a while, she could feel Nick’s eyes on her from afar. As he lay under the beach umbrella, it took every ounce of her strength not to look back at him. Whether out of curiosity or irritation.
He was just so hardheaded.
But should Tallulah have expected any less?
He was Nick Bryant, and hardheadedness was a middle name his mother left off the birth certificate. And that hardheadedness was what Tallulah loved.
Except in moments like this, when it was being wielded against her.
The world already hated her for being who she was. If Nick didn’t go to the awards, she would once again be to blame.
Tallulah was so fucking exhausted from being a supervillain to the masses. So, she set her sights on one goal: convincing Nick to attend the Academy Awards without her.
Whether he liked it or not.
