The Siren by KATHERINE JOHN (general ebook reader .txt) 📕

Felicity

Two Months Ago

At four p.m. on a Tuesday in mid-April, I take up residence on a park bench in the shade of a big sycamore tree along the path that leads to the enclosed dog run with a view of Lake Hollywood. My face is scrubbed clean of makeup, my pockets full of doggie treats, and I’m wearing an oversize T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a prestigious liberal arts college I didn’t attend.

I open my copy of Believe It and It Will Be and let my mind wander, glancing up every time another hipster comes around the bend in the path, canine companion in tow. Twenty minutes pass. Thirty. I’m ready to give up and try again on Thursday when at long last I spot a small-boned woman in a big sun hat and dark glasses trailing an aging Chihuahua up the trail. Stella’s dressed much too warmly for the weather, swathed head to toe in black Lululemons, only her pale hands protruding.

I stand and cross to the garbage can on the other side of the path, tossing in a crumpled piece of paper. As I cut back to my bench, the gold charm bracelet I picked up in a secondhand store last week slips from my wrist and lands in the packed dirt, glinting in the dappled sunlight as she approaches. I pretend not to notice.

Stella scoops up the bracelet and addresses me, just as she’s meant to. “I’m sorry, miss?” She proffers the bracelet. “I think you lost this.”

I look up, surprised—not that I dropped the bracelet, but that my ambush is for once going according to plan. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” I take the bracelet from her, smiling. “I didn’t even feel it slip off! It’s very special to me. My mother gave it to me before she passed away last year…Anyway, thank you.” Feigning embarrassment, I bend to pet her Chihuahua, slipping her a kibble as I scratch under her chin. “Hi, sweetie.” I look up at Stella. “She’s adorable. What a good doggy.”

The dog rubs against me, wanting more kibble. “That’s Mary Elizabeth,” she says.

Yeah, I know. I continue to scratch her ears. “A big name for such a little lady.”

“It’s silly—I got her when I was in Louisiana shooting this movie and named her after my character.”

Wow, she is desperate to talk. This may be easier than I’d thought. I look up to see she’s taken off her sunglasses, revealing a face at once familiar and strange. She’s still beautiful, though her cheeks aren’t quite as round as they used to be, and her brow is pinched with anxiety. Her big green eyes beg me to recognize her.

“Under the Blue Moon,” I say with delight, as though only now placing her. “I love that movie. You’re Stella Rivers. I didn’t recognize you behind the hat and glasses.”

“Yes,” she says, relieved to be fondly recognized. “I have to wear them out; you know—tourists in the area. It can be difficult trying to live a normal life.”

“I can imagine! Or really I can’t. I’m just a nobody off the bus from New Hampshire.” I laugh self-consciously, fiddling with the hem of my counterfeit T-shirt in hopes she’ll bite.

Finally she notices the name of the school shouting from my chest. “Oh.” She indicates the block letters. “How funny. That’s where I went to conservatory! Well, I wasn’t able to graduate. I was cast in the Harriet films after my first year and didn’t have time to finish, but they gave me an honorary degree. Did you go there?”

I shake my head. “Grew up in the town, though.”

“How lovely,” she says wistfully. “New Hampshire is so beautiful. I always wanted to be from a small town; it’s so romantic. I think maybe in a past life I was a professor. I’m wearing tweed and the leaves are changing colors…” Her gaze softens as though lost in memory.

“All I ever wanted was to get out.”

Her eyes refocus on me. “Out?”

So the rumors would appear to be true: she’s lost a few marbles. “I wanted to get out of New Hampshire and come here to Hollywood, where it’s sunny and anything is possible.” Now I’m making myself cringe.

“Oh,” she says. “Yes. Hollywood. Here we are! I’ve been in the business since I was a child, of course. I can’t imagine what it must be like starting from scratch, trying to get an agent and do the whole thing. It’s a tough business; take it from me.”

Okay, she’s not totally out to lunch. At least she has some self-awareness. “Oh, I’m not an actress,” I demur. “I just wanted to get away from the snow and my father.”

She laughs. “My father was no walk in the park either. And I hate snow.” She notices my book on the bench. “Are you reading Believe It and It Will Be?”

I nod, fleetingly worried the book is a step too far. But I have no choice but to commit now. “Again.”

“I love that book. It changed my life.”

“Positivity and gratitude are everything.” Relieved, I bend and scratch the dog again. “Nice to meet you, Mary Elizabeth. You be good for your mama.”

Stella cocks her head. “She likes you. She doesn’t usually like people.”

Here we go. “I love dogs,” I admit, barely hiding my glee. “If you ever need a doggy sitter, you let me know.”

“Actually”—she considers me—“I might do that. I shoot such long hours…I used to bring her to the set with me, but she’s losing her sight and isn’t so comfortable being in new places anymore. Do you have a card?”

“No,” I say, internally berating myself for not having had cards made up. “But take my number.”

She extracts her cell phone from a zippered pocket and inputs my number. “I’m Felicity,” I say.

It’s true. I officially became Felicity Fox last week.

She smiles to herself and shakes her head. “What?” I ask.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about my horoscope