Island of Despair

All during this time - time spent on my own Desperation Island - I planned and plotted, trying to uncover a perfect way to get back at Charles. I admitted to myself that I wasn't having much luck. I couldn't figure out how to hurt him without committing a crime. I thought about committing one, believe me. I was just too afraid of going to prison. A pretty boy actor, who plays a lawyer on TV no less, behind bars in a meat factory. No thanks.

As normal as I was acting around Maria, she, and I'm sure, Matthew was hurting inside that I wouldn't bond with the boy. She did her best, and respectfully, I'll give her that. I just couldn't be anything to the kid but a surrogate, maybe like a distant stepdad, I suppose. I had no desire and every time I thought about Bronson's actions, his spawn made me sick.

One of the few bright spots, during these years, at least something to break the monotony, was striking up a friendship with July. Her real name was Rebecca, and she had occasional guest appearances on the show, as an opposing lawyer. Our onscreen courtroom banter was appreciated by the fans, but I appreciated her differently. We'd often take lunch together, and eventually, she opened up about her life.

What amazed me most about Rebecca was her strength. She'd had a particularly shitty life. She had been a step-daughter to an abusive stepfather, which evolved into an abusive relationship with husband number one. After finally finding a way out, she fled to Southern California and almost ended up as a prostitute. Wealthy and powerful men had been behind that, not some sleazy pimp. Such were the ways of this damned town.

After that, she became a recluse, and a patient to a very good therapist, to turn her life around. She impressed me in ways I didn't fully comprehend. She gave me the courage to open up about my predicament and the sad state of my life. We were fast becoming good friends, and I admit that she was very appealing in other ways, too. There'd hopefully be time for that to develop.

>

On the second week of filming season six, Sal called me into his office once again.

"Sit down, Chase," he told me with a wide smile. "I think I have some very good news."

I sat, as Sal lit one of his signature oversized cigars. "My boy," he continued, "have you been keeping tabs on Dak Bronson?"

"No," I replied. "Not for a long time. Why?"

"Not sure you knew," he began, taking several puffs on that cigar of his.

"Since he was blacklisted, he's struggled along, and eventually took work with my cousin. That's Porno Albert, in case you're unaware. Bronson has a huge hunk of shmock hanging between his legs."

For once, I didn't need to pull out my Yiddish for Dummies handbook. Still, it pissed me off.

"Fuck you, Sal," I snarled. "What are you getting at?"

"Easy, dammit," he coughed on the exhale. "I think I have a wonderful gift to bestow. Bronson caught a little something-something and has been out of work for the past two months. Albert was telling me his sob story just last night. He's planning on moving back to Norway, to his family."

"And that affects me how?" I asked.

"Well," he stammered, "you know the dark... the bad side of Hollywood, that we deal in human, not narcotic trafficking. Well, if you could get Maria convinced, I think I can help her and the kid disappear with the boy's father. That is unless you've decided to keep her."

I was shocked. Not about Hollywood's dirty secret, but rather his ability to move two people like that. I admit I had to think twice about his final comment. It had been so long living this charade, I'd become accustomed to it. On the flip side, Rebecca and I had been seeing each other in a long-term affair, and she'd been discussing the 'what ifs' more often lately. I was in love with her - that much I knew. The more I thought about it, the more appealing it became. I told Sal to give me two days.

Maria was also shocked at my proposal. I told her to call Dak and discuss it. Her first inclination was that she wanted to stay with me, and finally, once and for all, settle our differences. I pointed out the obvious: I'd never treat the boy fairly, or lovingly. I knew she understood the reality of that. I told her, conciliatory of course, that had it been a one-off, that hadn't produced offspring, I may have forgiven her indiscretion.

"I don't know, Chase," she trailed off, thinking about it. "I don't even know if I could live with the man."

"That hurts, Maria," I replied. "You did choose him over me once. What made you do that?"

Maria seemed startled to hear that. I wondered what exactly she talked about with her therapist.

"I did," she finally had it worked out. "He was handsome, of course, but he was funny. He made me laugh. But other than that, I think it was partly me doing something so taboo."

"But it's not taboo in this town," I reminded her. "Listen, your father has you more boxed in than me. He's been trying to make you into a person he wants you to be - for six damned years. If you think you and Bronson could make a go of it, then why not?"

The next night, she told me that Dak wasn't only open to the idea, but that he'd never gotten over the fact that he had a son, and had no claim to him. He was afraid of Maria's father, and they talked at length about that, too. I asked her how she'd handle it with Charles.

She surprised me with her response.

"I love daddy, but fuck him," she said adamantly. "The more he tried to help me the more he screwed up my life. I now see his motivations for what they were... what they still are."

Things moved quickly. Sal told me to tell her that a meeting would be set up. He handed me a burner phone to give Maria. Dak was not to be involved in any way. If the two lovebirds wanted to be together, he'd need to go on his own and wait for Maria to contact him, once she arrived in Europe.

Matthew's seventh birthday party was fast approaching. As usual, it would be held at the Wilmington mansion. Games, clowns, and jumpy things were all the order of the day. I had zero remorse for what was about to happen. Karma, more than revenge, was going to have a field day, and as it played out, I'd be there to watch it unfold. Even paying for the flight was worth it.

Two nights before the party, I sat with Maria and had a glass of wine. Matthew had been put to bed early since they both had tickets for a five a.m. flight. That first leg was legit, but I'd been told not to ask about anything after her first destination.

I studied Maria carefully, taking her in. Her unfaithfulness with Dak still angered me occasionally, but now I had to admit, we'd come full circle. Here I was, losing her again, but this time I was offering her up so that we could both live a better life. She looked up at me, coming out of her daydream.

"What?" she asked teasingly.

"Just thinking is all," I said, a little sadder than I'd intended. "Will you really be happy, Maria?"

"I think so..." she trailed off for a moment. "Obviously, not as happy as I would be with you." She immediately waved me off, seeing I was about to jump on that. "I know, I know." She continued. "It's all my fault. I just think about us sometimes, you know... what it would have been like if I hadn't fucked it all up. I do love you, you know? I always will. You'll always have the top spot in my heart.

"But," she went on, "I lacked character. Maybe I still do. I was entitled, and I'd like to blame that on my rich parents too, although it seems juvenile to do so. I just hope I made you happy, for at least those early years. What I really want is for you to think fondly of me, whenever I cross your mind."

She was crying now, and for some strange reason, I was close too. I'd lived with this woman for eight-and-a-half years, most of them torture. I wondered why this was so emotional then. Maybe I felt for her - or did I just feel sorry for her?

"You think that you can make it work with him, then?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"As I said," she shrugged, "He's not you, but he's something, or I wouldn't have cheated our lives away. I hope that having a family will mature him." She chuckled a bit through her tears. "I guess a girl has to work with what she has."

I nodded. I did feel sorry for her. The biggest mistake of her life had brought us here. I hoped for her sake that Dak Bronson did warm up to being a dad, maybe even a decent husband and they lived happily ever after. As for me, I was chomping at the bit to begin a more intimate relationship with Rebecca.

Epilogue:

I was standing in Charles Wilmington's elaborate study two days later, a Saturday, drinking a very expensive scotch with the old bastard. The booze felt good going down, as I got myself mentally prepared for the acting job of a lifetime. I held out my glass for another shot.

"Where the hell is she?" Charles stammered, looking at his watch. He was getting impatient. "Is that damned woman ever on time?"

We'd played it that I had to fly in from Boston, while she came on a later flight from LAX. Boston was the set of the show's new season, so Charles didn't think to question anything. He'd mostly been leaving Maria and me alone by then.

"Well," I grinned, "she is your daughter. And she often reminds me of your many character flaws."

"Yes, of course," he returned my grin, mocking me. "You should be so lucky to have learned some of those flaws yourself. I'd have to say; at least this has been a learning experience for you, in so many ways."

"You know I still have plans to fry your ass, right?" I told him with an edge in my voice. "And you'll never see it coming."

"Okay Chase," he laughed, "if you must. Consider this," he carried on with not a care in the world. "Everyone learned something in this debacle. Maria probably learned the most, but you, Bronson, and even Maria's mother did. I did what was required. Could or would you ever be the kind of man who could do what was required, even in the face of adversity? By now you know how insignificant you were in my planning. But you shocked me. I expected you to lose it that day. I expected I'd have had to deal with you in a far different manner. Instead, you kept your head about you.

"Very few people in my sphere of influence challenge me these days. It makes me sad, and it also makes me quite bored. It makes me feel like I'm losing my edge. If you want a shot, I'd welcome it, trust me. However, think about this: Maria is a different person. I saw to that, and in a way, how you handled my ultimatum also contributed. She'll never make such a foolish mistake again, and as cliché, as it sounds, she'd do almost anything to make up to you for the pain she's caused.

"You've grown too, son." He was pontificating now. "You're that boy's father, like it or not. And as much as I admit I once despised you, I have to say, you've been a good father and far better provider, even under the stress of it all, than I could have imagined."

The statement made me shiver slightly. He was so self-absorbed about his righteous edict; he never even noticed that I was anything but a father to Matthew. He never even asked his own daughter. I supposed she may have lied to him, but still. Another rich balloon full of hot air and excrement.

"What I'm saying is," he just wouldn't shut up. "I respect you - and you've earned that. Still, I knew even then, that very few men could put up with what Bronson and Maria heaped upon you, so I gave you the out. You want out, I'm moving that timetable up to next year, Matthew's eighth birthday. Per our agreement, this family will keep our comments to ourselves, until the divorce blows over."

"Splendid," I said in a rather good old English impression. "Charles gets what he wants again. Hooray, jolly old chap."

We both heard the doorbell and moved out towards the front of the house. Maria's mother was standing there with an envelope, white as a ghost. She closed the door as the delivery man retreated. Her eyes suddenly fixed on Charles, absolutely aghast.

"He said it's from Maria." She told the old man, barely above a whisper.

The look on Charles's face too was one that I'd wished I could have photographed. He frantically opened the envelope and began reading.

"What is it, Charles?" she almost begged. "What does it say?"

Charles was reading away.

I suddenly thought about his old heart. I didn't want the bastard to die, but I did want him to experience a deep, gouging pain.

"It's from Maria," he said, in the least commanding voice I'd ever heard. "She's left."

"Left where?" Mrs. Wilmington cried out.

"She says, she's overseas." He was trying to talk and make sense of the words at the same time. "She's not coming back. Says not to come after her. She says she hates Chase, and hates me too, for meddling in her life. Says, she's found the man of her dreams, and he's willing to be a stepfather. Oh my god, what is happening?"

Maria's mother was curled up on the floor of their foyer, bawling. Charles finished reading and dropped the paper. Actually, it just fell out of his hand as the ramifications hit him hard. Finally, he looked at me.

I also wore a sad face, as though sharing in his misery.

After about five minutes, as Charles's wife had gotten herself to her feet, I slowly allowed a wide smile to form across my recently crestfallen face. Charles looked at me like he never knew me.

"I do believe, old man," I said in my best jovial tone, "that you have broken our contract. Have your attorney call mine, and work out the settlement amount. Don't make me send my people to collect. Have a great day!" I didn't have any 'people' to send, but it was so much fun to say it.

Both of Maria's parents stood in the doorway, watching me leave them for the last time. Just before putting the car in reverse, I pulled out my phone, snapped a pic, and saved it for a time when Maria might reach out to let me know she was okay. The rescue boat had finally landed on the shore of my island of despair.