Chapter 8

2015

The changes had happened gradually to each of us. Some were so profound that I had been the only one to make it to the Cape the previous year, and then only for a month not my usual three or four.

Anna became an even more sought after movie star. At one point she was working on three films simultaneously. EVERY week she was on the cover of some magazine in the supermarket aisles and newsstands. EVERY week she appeared on some major TV show, usually promoting one of her movies and being interviewed by every person on TV with a show of their own, regardless of time of day. Sixty minutes did a special about her. The entertainment shows – Extra, ET, Hollywood, Access, and so on – all were following her every move.

Anna Pechet was a household name. She couldn't hide. She had a retinue every place she went: two personal assistants, a script girl, a makeup lady, a hair lady, a wardrobe specialist, a personal chauffeur, and a contingent of bodyguards who I was sure had been not only NFL line backers, but also a hired assassins in a slightly earlier life. Anna had more people and protection around her than the President.

When Anna arrived at the Cape that summer, most of her staff took over a small inn in the town a little over a mile away. Big Mike, the head bodyguard, fronted a heavily armed security team that covered the four corners of the house lot on a 24/7 basis while Anna was in residence. Most of the security team traveled in advance and behind us during our outings to the Beach Shack and other lowbrow places. The orders were clear, 'Miss Pechet is not to be disturbed.' When a fan saw her, they were blunt, didn't allow close photos to be taken, and knew how to intimidate and run off the paparazzi.

The surrounding accoutrements were the trimmings on Anna becoming an A-list star of A-list stars. Going with that new and elevated status Anna tended towards narcissism and conceit. She was stressed about living up to her image, prone to fits of anger, a general bitch, and driven by the need to control and tightly manage every little detail about what was happening around her.

The mix of new personality traits made her less than the ideal person to be around, even when she was 'relaxing' at home – an activity that rarely happened. The family life we'd shared virtually vanished a short time after we'd ironed the kinks out of it. When Anna was 'home' or at the Cape, she was constantly interacting with many in her troop: attending to schedules, doing interviews, going over scripts, and constantly on the phone with others in the industry.

Abby had a transformation too; hitting some of the same rocky shoals that Anna did as the money and fame from her books and first movie started to peak. Whereas Anna was publicly visible, Abby went inside. She became a frequent recluse, locked up with her computer for days as she rode out some creative streak to its bitter end. During that time, she exhausted herself, working for forty or fifty hours without sleep, without showers, and then crashing into some delirious slumber for hours and hours. The wine bottles piled up around her were a worry, but when I raised the drinking issue, she claimed she had 'it' under control. Abby got abrupt, rude, commanding, and irrational much of the time, and when she'd over-indulged in alcohol, I just tried to leave her alone.

I was not immune to the after-effects of fame and fortune, developing some of the worst traits my two lovers were demonstrating. I became a control freak, not only about the movies, but also about trivial things like the dust jackets on my books, and so on – things I had no skill in whatsoever. I developed a sense of entitlement to all the riches and fame I was being accorded. Other people became a tool or something to be taken advantage of, even Abby and Anna, when I happened to see them.

I had a short relationship with Margo Stanger, now a well-recognized actress. I practically flaunted the assignation in the faces of Anna and Abby, at least I did until Margo basically told me I was an asshole and to fuck off.

The only thing that saved our threesome was the lack of the threesome. Almost from the time we arrived home in L.A. at the end of the 2013 summer, the three of us were rarely in the same place at the same time. Anna was often in New York or some other large U.S. city, or in Europe or Russia doing filming for her latest 'Jane Bond' thriller – as the press had started to call her. In two years she'd made three blockbuster movies that each topped over a billion dollars in ticket sales, plus she'd done four other films as the leading lady. She was the hottest thing in the box office.

Abby barricaded herself in a corner bedroom in Anna's Beverly Hills home, occasionally calling or texting the one servant we'd hired at crazy hours to bring food or wine to her. Even when we were both in the house together, I wouldn't see her.

I was on the road too, but in opposite corners of the globe. I discovered the delights of Hawaii and Bali, and weighed in heavily on the nightlife in both places. Somehow, despite the distractions of parties and the flesh, I managed to squeak out two more novels. My critics were right, however; they weren't as good as my first several works. I was trading on my name and brand recognition.

By mutual agreement with Anna and Abby, the three of us decided to spend all of July at the Cape house – retinues and bodyguards notwithstanding. We alerted Don, Jean, and Connie, and they would open the house for us. I hoped to also be there for August, but needed to hear from my agent about a number of appearances that had been arranged, plus the filming and production schedule on one of the movies being made from my fifth book.

The three of us drag-assed into the Cape house within a day of each other just before July fourth. We were tired, and had come from three different directions: the west coast (Abby), Europe (Anna), and me by way of South America where I made an appearance and speech in Rio. What welcomed us besides the security team was also a gaggle of paparazzi at the end of our driveway; many of who occasionally made forays onto the beach to try to get an angle on us from that direction.

After arriving and getting my luggage into the house, I looked out on the fracas as the security guys chased off a couple of errant photographers with cameras and lenses that must have cost tens of thousands and could probably take pictures through the walls of my house.

I chuckled in a sarcastic way, "I guess we've all arrived, and this is the price of fame and fortune. For the first time, I feel isolated here." I turned to Anna and Abby, "Don't you just want to stroll down the beach and have breakfast? We can't without creating a nightmare out there."

Both women nodded. Anna was more gorgeous than ever. She wore shorts and a t-shirt. Abby was equally beautiful, and similarly dressed. I'd missed my girls, but I was skittish of what personalities I might find in each of them: shrews, witches, bitches, marine drill sergeants, or what. I realized I didn't even allow for pleasant and loving triad partners.

I thought it prophetic that we hadn't had sex together for weeks. Near as I could tell, Abby abstained or simply jilled off in the privacy she'd created as a wall from the world. I guessed that Anna was fucking Sean, since they were doing a movie together again. I also had a fuck-buddy I'd discovered; an attractive girl who worked at the studio making one of my books into a movie. We all claimed fatigue and jet lag as an excuse, but I knew there was something deeper going on.

I guess our worst traits came out that day. We weren't speaking to each other by late afternoon. Anna and Abby had finished off two bottles of wine between them; each had a buzz on. I guessed that they each had some weed stashed somewhere too. I was feeling bitter, and realized for the first time that we were probably about to explode our plural relationship. Short as it had been, it had been a nice ride.

By six o'clock, we were hungry. I suggested a walk down the beach, and the girls agreed. Anna alerted her security force, and reinforcements were called in. We strolled down the beach, only we weren't very romantic, and no one held anybody else's hand. We even walked six or eight feet from the others.

At the Beach Shack, I suggested we take an indoor table, and our friend the owner got us a booth all the way in the back near the kitchen where we couldn't be seen from the street or beach. We slid in and sat. The menu hadn't changed in ten years, so ordering went quickly.

I took the bull by the horns, part of being a control freak, I guess. I took my ring off of my ring finger and put it in the middle of the table between the two women. "I guess fame and fortune has also killed our threesome. We weren't very nice to each other today, and we haven't been nice or loving for the past year or so. I don't think it's healthy for us to keep going like we've been. Maybe we can part as friends at this point."

Anna and Abby looked at me in shock and horror. Both looked at their ring fingers where they also wore the rings we'd gotten a couple of years earlier.

Abby put her head down. I figured she was tuning us out, but then I thought I saw her shoulders jerk as though she were crying.

Anna just stared at me.

I went on, "We've each changed for the worse. I don't like who I've become. At great personal risk my agent gave me a lecture earlier today about 'me' on our flight up from Rio. I was shocked, but couldn't argue with anything she said.

"I've become an effete snob, a jerk, an asshole, and an otherwise not nice guy who's consumed with himself and his due. I'm conceited, aloof, demanding in a not nice way, and overall a contemptible person whom others are now going out of their way to avoid. That's not the complete list she gave me, I might add; and she told me she was being kind. She told me if I didn't change between today and when she sees me next, she will drop me and I'll have to find another agent. THAT was a real shock.

"I plan to start a change in myself effective today. I need to get back to working with regular people. I need to give back to society in ways I haven't been, not only with some of the money I've made, but also with some personal effort as a volunteer. I've ceased to be a risk taker, and it has carried over into my work; so that changes too. My recent books stink for a long list of reasons. I've been trading on my name and reputation, and that's not good. I have some ideas and I'll use part of this time at the Cape to flesh them out.

"I used to be compassionate and kind. I thought of myself as loving too, but I don't think too many people would use those adjectives about me today. I'm not even sure I'm friendly anymore. I'm too controlling, self-centered, and a workaholic. I've become too focused on money, which is funny because I was less concerned about it when I had almost none. I care too much what other people think, and that's changed my behavior.

"Lastly, I hate to say it, but we've all become pretty distant from each other. Abby, you lock yourself away with a bottle of wine everyday. We may be in the same house, but I don't see you for days. That sends me a message about how you see my behavior, but I have some comments about yours as well."

"Anna, we don't see each other but occasionally, and then only for a day or so around some awards event. I know you're shacked up with Sean. I even saw Tracy one day when I needed some female company, and she confirmed what I'd suspected. You can't be anywhere without a dozen other people doting on you. You've shut me off, and I know I'm not on your favorite list anymore."

"I'm sorry I'm the way I've become. Maybe at some time in the future you will find me..."

Abby popped up and held her hand up to stop me from talking. "I don't like me either, and I suspect you guys don't either. I won't run myself down because there's not enough time. You know what I'm like now: I'm almost a hermit, and I'm apt to be drunk or stoned or both if you catch me at the wrong time of day – like awake. I'm depressed a lot, haven't been taking care of myself, and ... well, I like Jim's idea about a program to rebuild myself. If I keep going on the way I have I'll either die or kill myself."

Anna sat mute but with tears running down her cheek. Finally, she sobbed, "Oh, God. I just realized what you're all saying, and I'm there too. I'm about as artificial as they come."

She looked at Abby and me and pleaded, "I DON'T want to end this." She gestured in a triangle at the three of us, and then reached across the table to grab both our hands. "I'm not ready to throw in the towel on US. In fact, I will make a huge effort to save this – to save us."

Abby said in a soft tone, "What are you going to do?"

Anna shook her head. "I don't know, but Jim's words a moment ago were like an electric shock – a big one. Everything he got told or said about himself also applies to me. I guess I would have kept going along, also being a bitch and all, until you dumped me, or I lost my mind and left you two. Can we save what we have? PLEASE, say yes."

I nodded. "I'm willing to try, but I think we'll need to reevaluate. There's a lot to change when we add up what the three of us need to do."

Anna said, "Abby, you asked what I'm going to do. Well, the first thing is that I'm going to spend more time with each of YOU – alone time – just us, the three of us, I mean. We've drifted apart. If we don't start there and see if we can't find the glue that bound us together at one point, we may as well quit. We can't do that being in three different places in the world. I have enough sway with my schedule now, I can just tell the studio how it's going to be, and ... I'll be nice about it and not like I've been."

Abby nodded. "I agree. I want to be with the two of you again. I don't want to hide away from reality because I don't like myself ... or like you."

I added, "I want to start a foundation to make something good happen in the world someplace. I was thinking of schools of some kind in part of the world where having an educated populace could change the course of history."

Abby said, "I'd like in on that too."

Anna nodded. "That's as good as anything to try."

Abby said, "Collaboration. We need to adopt a common cause for the three of us. It'll bind us together again, allow us to be together at special times, and give us a common goal to pursue."

Anna picked up my ring where it sat in front of me. She nodded at Abby who held my left hand as Anna put the ring back on my ring finger. She said, "Don't give up on us yet. OK? Give us a chance to get our mojo back." She had tears running down her cheek.

Abby nodded, "I don't think any of us realized how easy it was to lose our way – to lose the magic we had. You putting that ring on the table was like a huge electric shock. I expect a struggle and some trial and error to get back to where I want to be. I'm hoping you'll help me. Please work with me – with us – to save US." She then looked at Anna too.

I nodded my support and agreement with her premise, and then smiled, feeling good about 'us' for the first time in months. Anna indicated her support.

Our food arrived, and so did a discussion about how to dump our negative egos and get back to some positive feelings.

Abby said, "One thing I plan to do is start meditating on a routine basis. Maybe you two can join me. It's not a woo-woo thing. I mean it just involves letting go, detaching from the material things we are letting rule our lives and from the cares and worries we have. One author I read last week calls it mindfulness. I want to try it, now that I realize I need it in my life."

Anna said, "I will do that with you Abby. I'm also realizing that part of what I need to do is simplification of my life. I'm getting rid of my groupies. When we started and I was a rising star and I didn't have a whole retinue hanging around me. They stroke my ego, making it bigger and harder to deal with. I can't blame it all on them, but something has got to change there."

Abby said, "But don't you need the security and some of the other things?"

"Do I?" Anna posed in thought. "Suppose I had one person lurking invisibly to really protect me. I can say no to autographs and selfies with me when it's inconvenient. I don't need others to do that for me. I can probably be friendlier about it too than an obviously armed ninja warrior."

"And the rest?"

"They go! I don't need a script girl; I can carry my own paperwork and rehearse without relying on someone else. I don't need to have my assistants physically present, the makeup and hair girls, or the others. They go home. If I have a question, I can call them. When I'm on a set or doing a scene, then they can show up and do what they need to do to me. I can't believe I thought I needed them around the clock. They can use email to tell me what I need to do or where I need to be."

I took my turn in the barrel. "My ego has swelled too much too – my negative ego. I need to get back in touch with the common man, and I think I know just how I'm going to start."

"How?" Anna asked with great interest.

"Tomorrow I'm going to go and volunteer at that used book store over in Centerville. Volunteers run the store, and the profits support the local library. I don't want to make a big deal of it either. I want to be where I can talk to regular folk and try to help them find something interesting to read or help do research for them.

"I also have some ideas for funneling some money into that foundation I mentioned. I think I know who to contact to start that ball rolling."

Abby said, "I can support that too. I like the bookshop idea too. I was thinking of something more, but maybe that'll work for me too until I can think of something else that'll help ground me again. We need to get out in the real world. The world we've been living in is not too real."

The elderly woman behind the counter looked appalled, "YOU want to work HERE to help US?"

Abby and I nodded. I explained, "We have free time and would like to help in some way – to pay back to the community and the many people who have been so kind to us by reading our books and thinking kindly of us."