-The Day Of-
"Go home," Charlie instructs. "I'll meet you there when this is over." Riley and Paige leave Charlie's office, neither in any great hurry. They take the elevator down to the parking garage, climb into their car, and simmer. Words adequate to make everything go away, to not have happened, fail them. Silence fits like a cheap sweater that scratches the skin.
Charlie drives by toward the exit, without noticing the Maserati. It's not as though a Maserati stands out in Los Angeles. Riley starts the engine and pulls out, parking exit ticket in hand. Charlie turns out onto Spring Street, cutting across two lanes to get into position to turn left on 4th. Riley hangs back but tracks Charlie down 4th toward Main Street, which means another left turn. Riley figures correctly that Charlie will take yet another left on 3rd, completing a circle of one-way streets. He is also correct assuming Charlie will get on the entrance ramp to the 110 and 101 freeways. Riley will need to catch up a car length or two to keep up when Charlie moves over two lanes to the left, heading north on the 110.
"Where do you suppose we're headed?" Riley breaks the silence.
"Pasadena?" Paige supposes. It's a safe bet, but Charlie shakes things up by taking the Avenue 43 exit, just north of downtown. It's an ancient, tight ramp, designed when cars did forty-five on the freeway and could slow to ten miles per hour in a short distance. Riley had little choice but to get close up behind Charlie. Charlie continued on course, giving no acknowledgment of the Welphelt's car. Riley waits for a three count before following on the long block to the next intersection for yet another left turn. Charlie's was the last car through before the light turned red.
"Damn it!" Riley swats the steering wheel. When they finally make the turn past a Mexican deli, Charlie's car is nowhere in sight. Riley races down the straight road till they come upon a fork. To the left, they can see a block or two down the road. But to the right, the street takes an abrupt turn uphill.
"Which way should I go?" Riley asks his voice tense.
"Right," Paige says.
"Why right?"
"I don't know," Paige says. "I just think with how fast Charlie was driving, we'd be able to see if the car was down that way." Riley contemplates her logic. "And," Paige continues, "that looks like a park. There are houses up this way." She's got to be right. Riley takes the sharp turn up Montecito Drive and follows the road's tight curves.
"Riley, there it is," Paige points to Charlie's car. Charlie has just found a parking spot and steps out into the street, briefcase in hand. Confident to the point of wearing blinders, Charlie marches across the street without looking both ways, to a nondescript home with a non-existent front yard.
Riley slows to a stop but still in view of the house as Charlie knocks on the front door. The literary sleuth in Paige told her to bring a camera with a long zoom lens set to shoot video. She points the camera toward the house and focuses on Charlie.
"Can you see anything?" Riley asks.
"No. Wait—the door is opening," Paige says and presses 'record.' "It's Arlene. She's... OH MY GOD!"
"What?" Riley asks.
"You are not going to believe this."
"Believe what?" Riley demands. Paige is too caught up in what she sees to answer. She stops the camera and navigates to the start of the recording.
"Look," Paige says and positions the camera so they can both watch the playback. On screen, Charlie knocks on the door. Seconds pass and the door opens and Arlene appears on the screen. "Watch this," Paige says. Arlene smiles at the briefcase, throws her arm around Charlie's neck and pulls in for a deep, undeniably French kiss.
"Holy shit!" exclaims Riley.
"No shit," Paige concurs. For one brief moment, they feel united again. But the feeling evaporates by the time they get home and pack Missy's belongings and another suitcase for Riley.
Charlie arrives as planned to allow Paige and Riley to say their goodbyes.
-Webster's Office-
"Now hold on a minute," Grady says. "You knew that Charlie was dirty, so why send Missy packing?"
"We didn't know how deep it ran," Riley explains.
"Or what part Missy may have played," Paige adds.
"Plus, I was still undecided about everything," Riley says. Paige sighs.
"And other things happened that we didn't know about yet," Paige says.
-Mrs. Evans' House-
Missy has had much to say since her return. Mostly, she stays alone in her room. Today she sits on her bed, back leaning against the wall. She absently flips through pictures on her phone, uninterested, till she lands on the picture Riley took of she and Paige frolicking in Webster's pool. She heaves a long sigh and opens the 'Carry' ride-sharing app.
Half an hour later, the Carry driver stops his Prius in front of Arlene's house.
"How much would it cost to have you wait ten minutes?" Missy asks from the rear seat.
"Sorry," the driver says, "I ain't supposed to do that."
"I'll pay cash," Missy offers. The driver thinks.
"Twenty bucks," he says. Missy reaches for Squiggle's hidden zipper.
"Turn around, please," she asks. The driver complies. Missy fishes out a twenty and tears it in two, handing one half to the driver.
"What's this supposed to be?" the driver says.
"You'll get the other half when I get back in the car," Missy responds.
Arlene answers the door in a robe, not thrilled to see Missy.
"What are you doing here?" she says without a trace of a southern accent. Missy steps in past her.
"I want my money." Charlie appears in a kimono.
"Too soon, kid," Charlie says. "We gotta lay low." Missy is not having it.
"You didn't have to live with those two idiots," she says of Paige and Riley. "I did my part. I made them fall in love with me and give you all their money. Hand over my share, and you never see me again." That suits Arlene, just fine.
"Give the little brat her cut and get her out of our hair," she tells Charlie.
"No. We stick to the plan," Charlie counters, then turns to Missy. "The money's not going anywhere, so go back where you came from and when the time is right, you'll get yours." Missy opens her mouth but Charlie cuts her off. "End of discussion." Missy can see she's getting nowhere here.
"It's a long ride back," she says. "I need to tinkle." Arlene points to a hollow-core door.
"Through there." Missy carries Squiggle in the direction of Arlene's finger point and closes the bathroom door behind her. There is another door opposite that leads to the bedroom—a poor man's en suite. She goes to close that door but stops when she spies Charlie's briefcase under the bed. She tiptoes into the bedroom. As she leans down toward the case, out of the corner of her eye, something catches her attention from the dresser—Paige's precious necklace.
Three minutes later, Missy emerges from the bathroom to find Arlene playing kissy-face with Charlie and a sandwich. She nonchalantly heads for the door.
"I'll be back in two weeks," she says, adding, "You're out of toilet paper." Charlie and Arlene can't be bothered.
Outside, Missy anxiously half-runs to the Prius.
"Get out of here!" she yells as she jumps in the rear seat. The driver holds out his empty palm. Missy shrugs and stuffs the remaining half of the twenty in his hand. "Go!" The Prius inches away in silence.
The Welphelt house is half empty as Paige meanders, dropping possessions into moving cartons with indifference. She sees her Emmy on an office shelf and sighs, about to toss it into a box when the doorbell rings. She makes it to the entrance with zero enthusiasm and opens the huge walnut door.
"Hi," Missy whispers, clutching Squiggle. She tears up. Paige kneels and hugs her.
"It's okay," she assures Missy. Missy composes herself.
"Here," she says, holding Squiggle to Paige. This confuses Paige. "Take him," Missy says, "You have to."
"Missy," Paige starts.
"Open him up," Missy instructs. Paige fumbles with the toy. Missy guides her to the hidden zipper. Paige tugs it open and cash, lots, spills out of Squiggle's belly. "I got all your money back," Missy says, "plus all the money I've been saving, so now you don't have to give your house back to the bank and we can all stay together." Paige is dumbstruck at first, but manages to complete a sentence.
"How did you get this?" she asks. Missy looks down.
"Charlie and Arlene are stupid," Missy says. Paige is firm but gentle.
"But you knew about them the whole time, didn't you?" she asks. Missy nods her head and pulls Paige's necklace from her pocket.
"She wasn't supposed to take this," Missy says of Arlene. Paige loses her air at the sight of her irreplaceable heirloom.
"Oh, my god," Paige says. "With everything that's been going on, I didn't notice it was gone." Missy chokes up.
"Charlie and Arlene are bad people," she says. "You and Riley are good and you took care of me. Nobody else ever did. All I want is to come home. Please, Paige." Paige pulls Missy into her arms.
"I want you to come home, too," she whispers. Missy notices the moving cartons.
"Where's Riley?" she asks. Paige fights the tears but meets little success as the stains on her blouse attest.
-Webster's Office-
"Damn it!" Grady says. He's a watery mess, trying to not let his tears reach his suit jacket. "You got me again." Webster hands him a box of tissues. Grady blows his nose twice.
"Get ahold of yourself, man," Webster admonishes him.
"Fuck you," Grady tells Webster then turns back to Paige and Riley. "What happened to Arlene and the lawyer?" Webster answers for them.
"That's the best part if I do say so myself," Webster says. Paige steps into the answer.
"You know that god-awful cop show you guys produce?" she asks.
"Hey, now," Webster takes offense. Paige ignores him.
"The one with the two pretty-boy detectives and the unfortunate title I can never remember?" Paige says. Webster sighs.
"Hot Dicks."
"Who knew they were real cops?" Riley asks rhetorically.
-Five Months and Two Weeks Ago-
The interrogation room at the West Hollywood branch of the Los Angeles Sherriff's Department: Webster has arranged a 'meeting' between the Hot Dicks and the Welphelts. Missy has come along for the ride and the sympathy only a child and evoke in even the hardest of humans.
Paige and Riley spill their guts, top to bottom. They do not try to paint themselves as victims, admitting to every dubious choice made to maintain their privileged lifestyle. Missy makes the most sympathetic puppy-dog eyes she can muster.
As luck has it, one of the Hot Dicks had been a foster kid. The Dicks are very sympathetic to the Welphelt's situation and inspired to take action on behalf of exploited foster kids everywhere. It doesn't hurt that the optics of a foster kid will provide a significant spike it ratings.
-Five Months and One Week Ago-
Charlie is ready to distribute the spoils of their con. And dump Arlene. Retrieving the briefcase from beneath the bed, Charlie sets it on the mattress. Upon opening it, Charlie discovers a briefcase stuffed with toilet paper and looks to the sky, screaming.
Charlie storms out Arlene's door and is nabbed by the Hot Dicks. Without hesitation, Charlie signs the release form that allows the Hot Dicks to show Charlie's face on-screen. Of course, the waiver comes with a check for three hundred fifty dollars.
As the Hot Dicks stuff Charlie into the back of their unmarked car, another car passes slowly. Had either of the Dicks glanced at that passing car, they'd have seen Arlene slouching as low as possible to avoid detection. She'd seen Charlie's walk of shame as she approached and now cruises by and off into the sunset.
-Five Months and Six Days Ago-
The Hot Dicks make another bust, this time in Toluca Lake. Mrs. Evans' blurred face in the finished episode indicates that she declined the three hundred-fifty dollars. Sadly for her, there is no such blur available for her mug shot.
Gretchen McCarthy, from L.A. Family Services, escorts Robert and Anthony out of Mrs. Evans' immaculate home. The boys smile ear-to-ear at their good fortune. Gretchen's face is visible on the screen. Hey—no one gets rich working for Family Services. The windfall will put her Special Gift To Me fund over the top and she can finally treat herself to that bottle of Pappy van Winkle bourbon.
-Three Months Ago-
Downtown, in the L.A. County courthouse on Hill Street, a family court judge slams her gavel.
"The adoption is hereby granted," she announces. Paige, Missy, Robert, and Anthony applaud and cheer the judge's decree.
-Two Hours And Five Minutes Ago-
Webster dials Riley's extension.
"Hey, Web," Riley answers. "What's up?"
"Can I see you and Paige in my office?" Webster asks.
"Now?"
"If you've got a minute." Webster's request concerns Riley. Webster is not given to interrupting the workday. He puts his hand over the phone and whispers to Paige.
"He wants to see us." Paige's expression also turns to concern. Riley assures Web that he and Paige will be 'right up.'
-Two Hours Ago-
Paige and Riley sit side-by-side on Webster's guest couch.
"Long story short, we got ourselves into some trouble," Riley answers Webster's first question.
"No," Webster says and points to Grady Tuttle, "Give him the whole story. Start at the top." Riley and Paige look at each other and inhale deeply.
"It started about," Paige begins, then looks to Riley, "what?" Riley calculates.
"Two..." he says. Paige takes it from there.
"Maybe three years ago," she says.
-Now-
Still in Webster's office, Paige brings the story up to date.
"And now we're all one happy family," she says but adds, "Almost." That 'almost' floors Grady.
"Almost?" he says. "After all you've been through?" Riley explains that they are working on 'second chances.' Paige clears her throat.
"We," she says, eyeballing Riley, "have trust issues." Riley becomes eager to get back to work.
"Are we done here?" he asks. "We do still have a show to run." Webster looks to Grady and both men lean forward in their chairs, closer to Paige and Riley.
"We want to talk to you about that," Webster says. Uh-oh.
"Everything okay?" Paige asks.
"Anything you need us to do differently?" Riley adds. Webster brushes them off.
"You're fine," Webster says. "But we've been kicking around ideas for new shows and Grady came up with something I think you'll like." Oh? That gets their attention. Grady takes over.
"Your story is truly inspirational," Grady begins, "but I have to say that Arlene fascinates me. The detail she went into with her backstory is crazy." Paige and Riley lean back into the couch in a subliminal defense move.
"Uh-huh," they both say in unison. Grady smiles.
"So picture this..." he starts.
-Six More Months In The Future-
Outside the Welphelt's home, things have changed. The landscape has been trimmed to perfection. His and hers Bentleys now rest in the driveway. The sun shines. Birds sing. A banjo plays. Wait—what?
"Turn that shit off!" a bar patron yells.
"No," yells another. "Keep it on!"
What is the Welphelt's house doing on the television in this joint? And why are drunks arguing about the newest reality television obsession, "Hazen to The Hills: Real-Life Hollywood Hillbillies?"
Inside the Welphelt house, things have also changed. The expanded family—Paige, Riley, Missy, Robert, and Anthony—gather at a long, rustic dining table that has replaced the sleek, glossy one that used to be there. The children walk barefoot in tattered Walmart jeans and plaid shirts. Riley's once cropped beard is now a tangled mess. And Paige—her once bikini-perfect body now stresses the seams of ill-fitting mom jeans.
And everyone speaks like hillbilly trash. Everyone, save for Anthony, who still refuses to speak anything by Spanish.
Paige doles out scoops of indefinable vittles.
"Eat up, ya'll," she tells the family. Dinner displeases Missy.
"Ugh," she groans. "Possum ag'in?" Riley has become a disciplinarian.
"Missy, don't back-talk your mama," he scolds. Missy has also hurt Robert's feelings.
"Besides," Robert says, "I kilt this possum myself with my shooter. Darn near got a coyote, too." Anthony says something in Spanish that appears on the television with English subtitles. "Talk American, ijit," Robert chastises his little brother. Paige has had enough. She drops her accent and the bowl of possum.
"Hold on," she says.
"Cut!" a director yells. "What now, Paige?" A wider view reveals that we are not in the Welphelt's home, but on a small sound stage where the director and crew film a new episode of this 'reality' series.
"We cannot have Robert call his brother an 'ijit'," Paige complains. The director sighs. Paige has been a pain in his side from day one. He turns to Webster.
"Web? Can you help me out here?" Web asks everyone on the set what the problem is. Missy is the first to pipe up that the dialogue makes them all sound like a bunch of inbred losers.
"Exactly," Paige supports Missy's opinion. "Must we always contribute to the race to the bottom?"
"But America relates to the Welphelts," Webster offers.
"That," Riley says, "is the most frightening thing of all." Paige pulls large foam inserts out of her mom jeans. "And I am still a size zero," she says and tosses the foam butt enhancers at the director one by one to emphasize her words. "Not an eight. Not a twelve. Zero!" Every family member yells over each other with complaints. The director throws up his hands.
"That's lunch, people!" he yells. "One hour." The stage lights go out. The crew members break down their gear and leave Webster to sort out the chaos. That's his job.
THE END.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think of the story. It's an adaptation of a film screenplay I wrote. Turning it into book form was a challenging exercise.
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