Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood(9)
Author: Abby McDonald

Grace laughed. “With an Ivy League education, you could make it to Miami at least. Someplace classy.”

Theo laughed with her. “The Coates family . . . it’s a weird beast, that’s all. Normal rules don’t really apply. But I guess every family is strange, in its own way.”

“Yup.” Grace nodded slowly, thinking of her mom — still locked in the attic, far from reality — and Hallie, probably out getting arrested even as they spoke. Theo winced.

“I’m sorry. Going on about college, and family — that’s, like, nothing, compared to you and —”

“No!” Grace cut him off. “No talking about that. We had a deal.”

Theo paused. “OK.”

They were interrupted by his cell phone. Grace paused. “Is that . . . the Addams Family theme?”

“What? No. Never.” Theo snatched the phone up. “Hey, Portia. . . . No, we’ll be right up.”

He hung up, looking apologetic. “I have to get back. It’s time for his language immersion hour.”

Grace stared. “His what?”

“Portia likes to play French language tapes at him while he naps,” Theo explained, getting to his feet. “It’s supposed to acclimatize them to the sound.”

“Wow.” Grace looked at Dash, now happily sucking on Theo’s shoelace. “When I was a kid, I just had Disney movies and My Little Ponies.”

“You had Disney?” Theo clutched his chest. “I’m jealous. We just had PBS.” She laughed, helping him fold up the blanket and strap Dash back into the stroller. “Hey, are you doing anything later?” Theo asked as they headed back across the park. “I was thinking about seeing a movie. If you’re free, I mean.”

Grace paused. Did he think he had to babysit her, like Dash?

“It’s just, I don’t really know anyone in town, and I really need a break from family. Not you,” he added quickly. “You’re not — well, you know what I mean.”

“OK,” Grace replied slowly. “I mean, sure, that sounds fun.”

“Great.” He grinned. “I’ll call you later.”

Theo’s phone rang again, with the same familiar booming chords. He picked up. “Yes, Portia, I’m literally across the street.” He rolled his eyes at Grace. “We’ll be right there.” He hung up, sighing. “Duty calls.”

“Au revoir.”

Grace went to the movies with Theo that night, more to escape the thought of her imminent homelessness than for the gross-out comedy they wound up seeing. But Theo proved a good distraction: regaling her with horror stories of his family, and the hell that was boarding school, and never once mentioning Grace’s father or the crisis what was left of her own family now faced. To her surprise, it was fun, and Grace was glad of the friendly face and the chance to put the real world on hold, just for a few hours. Soon they fell into a regular routine: meeting after Grace got out of school to go take Dash to the park, or the zoo, until that familiar Addams Family theme started up and Portia summoned Theo home again.

“How’s Theodore?” Hallie asked with a mischievous smile at the end of the next week. It was dinnertime, or at least what passed for dinner those days: Grace throwing cheese and toppings on some store-bought pizza bases while Hallie dumped a couple of bags of salad into a bowl.

“He’s fine.” Grace shrugged, doling out the pepperoni slices. Hallie reached over to grab a handful of chopped olives. “Hey!”

Hallie danced back, tossing the olives in the air and catching them in her mouth. “You guys have been spending a ton of time together . . .”

“Sure. I guess.” Grace didn’t want to tell her that it was better than sitting around the house all evening, waiting for Hallie to saunter home or their mom to finally emerge from her attic studio, too distracted to hold a conversation. “He’s fun, once you get to know him.”

“You know, he could be kind of cute,” Hallie mused, “if he lost those preppy shirts . . . and changed his hair . . . and did something about those glasses . . .”

“What, you mean, got a pair of those stupid big hipster frames and grew a mustache?” Grace replied, laughing. “Sure, like that’s cute.”

“You need to move past this generic standard of hotness you’ve been indoctrinated with,” Hallie told her airily. “The whole Abercrombie dumb jock thing is so over.”

“Theo isn’t a dumb jock!”

“Aha!” Hallie grinned. “So you do like him.”

“I never said I didn’t.” Grace finished assembling the pizzas and carefully slid them into the oven. “He’s nice. You should come hang out with us sometime.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“On what?” Grace turned, and found Hallie wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “No!” Grace yelped. “You don’t think . . . ? Hallie, that’s ridiculous!” She hurled a tea towel at her, but couldn’t keep from blushing furiously.

Hallie ducked, laughing. “You like him,” she teased, singsong. “You want to kiss him!”

“He’s our stepbrother! Or stepuncle,” Grace managed, stumbling for words. Her, and Theo . . . ? “Whatever he is, he’s related!”

“Not by blood.” Hallie grinned.

“You’re crazy,” Grace said firmly as their mom wafted in. She was still wearing pajamas, braids splattered with a gruesome pattern of red paint.

“Who’s crazy?” She blinked at them, as if they were slowly coming into focus from very far away.

“Nothing,” Grace replied quickly. “Hallie, can you help at all? Set the table, or something.”

“Grace’s got a crush on Theo,” Hallie said, collapsing at the table, so Grace was left to set out silverware and dishes alone.

“I do not!”

“Do too.” Hallie stuck her tongue out.

“Real mature.”

Their mom joined Hallie at the table. “Theo, Theo . . .” she mused, as if trying to place him. Then she brightened. “Oh, yes, he’s a sweet boy. Very polite. You two would be good together.”

“Mom!” Grace cried.

Hallie giggled. “She’s right, you do match: you’re both as boring as each other. You’d just sit around apologizing: ‘No, you go first.’ ‘No, you,’ ” she mimicked. “Be still my heart.”