Sex and Violence in Hollywood Read Free Page B

phone in hand and went to Gwen’s side.
    “Missy Gwen, phone for you.”
    Gwen took the phone and said, “Hello?”
    Adam poked at and cut his food, even though he was no longer eating it. His dad ate as if there were a chance the food might flee the plate. His knife and fork clacked and scraped, jaw worked hard beneath that mass of hair. Grizzly Adams eating something he had just killed and waved over the campfire a couple times.
    After a long silence, Gwen whispered, “Oh, my God.”
    Adam looked across the table at Gwen’s wide eyes and open mouth. Something was wrong.
    “My daughter, what about my daughter?” she asked, loudly this time.
    Michael put down his utensils and watched his wife, frowning.
    “Oh, Jesus,” she said, her voice breaking as her head dropped forward and she covered her eyes with her hand.
    “Hey, hey,” Michael said quietly as he got out of his chair and went to her side.
    “Have you checked her grandmother’s?” she asked. After a moment, “No, his mother. She thinks that girl can do no wrong, and—” She stopped and listened for a few seconds. “Yes, that’s the address. If she’s run away, she might be there, or at least on her way.”
    Adam exchanged a puzzled look with his dad.
    “Oh, yes, she’s hitchhiked before,” Gwen said.
    Mrs. Yu stood beside Gwen looking aloof, indifferent. Waiting for the phone so she could put it back where it belonged when Gwen was done.
    “Yes, I wish you would,” Gwen said. “And please call the second you know anything. Will you, please?” She sat up straight in her chair, took a deep breath and let it ease out of her. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” She pulled the phone away from her ear, handed it back to Mrs. Yu, who immediately left the room.
    “What the hell was that?” Michael asked.
    Gwen wiped her eyes, although there appeared to be no tears in them. “Police in Miami. There’s been a fire. Larry’s house. It burned down. He was in it. He died.” She sighed and shook her head slowly. “Probably drunk. As usual.”
    “What about your daughter?” Michael asked as he hunkered down beside her, put an arm around her shoulders.
    “She’s run away again. They don’t know where she is.”
    “At least she wasn’t in the house with her dad,” Adam said, uncertain and cautious.
    “They’ll find her,” Gwen said hoarsely. “She’s at her grandmother’s, I’m sure. If she’d been home, she might have been able to save Larry. Wake him up, get him out of bed. He sleeps like a corpse when he’s been drinking. Which is probably most of the time now that he doesn’t have me around to bitch about it.”
    “Hey, you’re not gonna start blaming yourself, honey,” Michael said firmly. “I’m not gonna let you do that.” He leaned forward and embraced her, kissed her cheek.
    “No, no, no,” she said, pushing him away. “I’m not blaming myself. I’m just...angry. At him, at her. When they find her, she’ll have to come live with us, you know. Right away.” She turned slowly to Michael. “She’s not an easy girl to live with.”
    He smiled. On him, it looked more like a sour expression. As if he had bitten into an extraordinarily unpleasant cheese. But Adam recognized it as a sincere smile, an oddity on his father’s face.
    “Hey, that’s no problem,” Michael said enthusiastically, stroking Gwen’s hair. He jerked his head toward Adam and said, “Hell, you think it’s been a barrel of dancing girls raising this clown? He’s not perfect, either. He’s not even normal. I mean, Jesus, he writes poetry, for God’s sake.” He glanced at Adam. “For all I know, he’s a fag.”
    A suppressed laugh snorted through Gwen’s nose, but she managed to make it sound like an emotional catch in her throat. Adam smirked.
    “You wanna go upstairs?” Michael asked. He stood, took her elbow and gently tugged her to her feet. “C’mon, let’s go. You can take a couple of my pills. You’ll feel better.”
    As