“I’m already coming, Duncan.”
“My friends call me Bowie.”
They stared at each other again.
“Right then, Bowie,” Tom said, “Chloe’s force feeding us a rich-food French brunch tomorrow at Genny’s. We all head up. I check into The Queen. Dinner at your house. And I’ll be back Christmas morning. Warning to you, Sasha still wakes up at four and turns on the Christmas music loud to get everyone up, like she’s still six years old. Gen loves her daughter, but she’ll hold out until she’s had at least some of her morning and can come down showered, her hair looking nice, and has applied a coat of powder and mascara. That’s not about stardom, it’s about vanity. She hates looking at pictures where she doesn’t look put together. Even family ones. I’ll aim to show around eight.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He continued his warnings. “Matt will avoid me.”
“My mom will be there. Hale. The girls. My boys. Genny. We’ll make sure it’s not awkward and you’re both looked after. But I cannot guarantee Genny won’t have a word with him. She’s losing patience with this.”
“Matt knows his own mind. We got that when he pretty much potty trained himself starting at two years old.”
Duncan chuckled.
Because it was funny.
And because this was what they were.
Sharing stories.
Sharing life.
Family.
“We can do this,” Tom said.
Duncan took a sip of his whiskey.
Then he looked at Tom.
“We can. And we will.”
Tom took a breath.
Let it out.
And sat by the fire on a Phoenix night next to a good man and drank some more whiskey.
Imogen
* * *
“Oh my God, kill me,” Matt groaned, head on the back of the sofa.
“Why? This is radical!” Gage shouted.
Matt looked to Gage and asked, “Did you hear the part about the sex scenes?”
“Yeah, but Genny said she wouldn’t even show side boob,” Gage returned.
Matt looked like he was going to throw up.
Needless to say, I’d just made the announcement that The Next Life, my soon-to-be starring vehicle, was a go.
And provided pertinent details therein.
“Sorry, Genny, I’m out. I’m happy for you that you got this gig, but no way am I watching you have sex…with anyone, even fake sex,” Sully added.
“It’s not all going to be sex scenes, Sully. You can close your eyes and chant lalalalalala and ask someone you’re watching it with to tell you when it’s done. That’s what I do when I watch Mom do sex scenes,” Sasha advised.
“I think this is all very exciting!” Duncan’s mom Ruthy exclaimed. “Can I come on set?”
“Whenever you like,” I offered.
“Oh my goodness. I’ve never been on a television set. This is unbelievable!” Ruthy cried.
“I know, Gram,” Gage said to his grandmother, and then to me, “Can I come on set too?”
“Of course,” I told him.
“Well, all I can say is that I’m proud to have a mother who has the courage to be out and proud as a mature female sexual being in a world where, for centuries, mayhap millennia, well before their ovaries have ceased producing eggs, they were deemed non-essential. This simply because they might be forming a crow’s foot, had a single gray hair, or their tits were no longer perky,” Chloe stated grandly.
“Rest assured, baby, your tits are still perky,” Duncan muttered in my ear.
I elbowed him.
“And I love the fact your daughter can use the word ‘mayhap’ and own it,” he kept going.
He got no elbow for that.
That made me smile.
“Well done you, ma courageuse mère,” Chloe went on, lifting her champagne glass my way “Fight the power and all that.”
“Hear hear!” Sasha shouted.
“Yes, hear hear!” Ruthy chorused.
I looked to Duncan, wedged in beside me in what had become “our chair,” and saw he was now grinning ruefully and shaking his head.
He was doing this to Tom, who was accompanied by Killer (it had to be said, Killer had good taste in men) and doing the same.
Suffice it to say, Duncan had read the script.
And in the pilot, the female lead had sex three times.
I had signed on to be the female lead.
And the entire first season had been greenlit by a streaming service, which was what Teddy wanted, so we could be more “real life” visually and with language.
The first script was beyond exciting.
Teddy’s ideas and the work he was sharing with me for the season even more so.
But before I’d committed, I’d asked Duncan.
His response was, “I don’t pass by you which hiking boots I stock.”
“Darling, you need to read the script,” I replied.
“I will, Gen, but the point will remain.”
He read the script.
It remained.
I could not say he was down with potentially millions of viewers watching a vital, interesting and sexual woman played by me lead her life.
But he was stalwartly supportive of me doing what I loved.
Tom had been the same.
Though sex scenes were never his favorite.
And it seemed this was going to continue to be a theme in my life.