The Beautiful Truth

// 144

It was a wrap—Julian tentatively promised us all a rough cut by Labor Day, a mere five weeks away.

Hadley had wowed us in her final speaking scene with Charlie. Turns out no one was more surprised than she was—it took her about twenty minutes to stop crying after she'd performed the scene perfectly in only two takes.

Charlie, in that scene received high praise from Jordan, who, after two weeks of subtle and not-so-subtle coaching, jokingly admitted he might not be such a bad actor after all. I think Charlie was so pumped up after that, he could have jumped in the Bay and swam to Hawaii. She may as well have said she was madly in love with him.

And Jordan, ever graceful and gracious, had played her part to perfection—wiping the tears from her eyes in the rearview as she drove away from the house in 'Oklahoma' which we had found out in Brentwood, on the next to last day of filming.

The last scene we had to film was the one I'd asked my dad about—asked him if it might ever happen. I wanted there to be a glimmer of hope at the end, and I wanted Grant and Madison to be together. Hadley and Charlie, aged with makeup, were to perform the scene twenty years in the future.

The lighting was perfect. Hadley would be silhouetted against the sun-flooded windows of Madison's art studio classroom. Just as the last of her students slipped out, Charlie would slip in. They'd lock eyes, and that's where the film would end.

I'd invited my dad to the wrap party as a surprise to the cast and crew, and told him to show up for this last scene so he could see us all in action.

But the thing is, the time I told him to show up? It was about an hour after we filmed that final scene. The rest of the cast was off getting beautiful for the wrap party.

And the place I told him to show up? A classroom a few doors down from the one we used.

You see, I'd told Amy Sawyer we wanted to film her for a few minutes as part of a bullshit 'where are they now' feature 'for the DVD,' and after a few glasses of wine at Jaime's wine bar for the second time in two weeks, she finally agreed.

The only person in on my plan was, who else—Jaime. She'd shut down the bar for the evening to help, and when my dad showed up, casually strolling down the hallway of Kroeber Hall, she met him with a smile and opened the door to the art room...just as the last student had walked out.

I'm not sure how she greeted him in the hall. Not that it mattered, or that it even would have registered. Knowing he was about to walk through the door, my heart was beating a thousand times a minute. As soon as I saw his face, I'd know if I'd done something spectacular or something very, very bad.

"You guys can stop now," Amy smiled bashfully at the front of the room, replacing her drawing pencils into what looked to me like a beat-up tackle box.

Julian looked at me. "This is kind of excessive, right?"

I was about to contradict him, in an effort to stall, when Jaime knocked twice on the door—our signal that my dad was approaching.

I just shook my head and nodded at the doorway. I heard the knob turn, and I thought I might puke.

The only people in the room were me, Julian, another camera guy, and Amy. I'd purposely stationed myself directly in front of the door, so my dad would see me first.

My dad entered the room with a big smile. "Hey Say, did I miss all the—"

I bit my lower lip, smiling and fighting tears as he realized what was happening.

Amy, who I'd see from the film later, had looked up from her art supplies at the sound of his voice, and froze.

Next to me, Julian's jaw dropped. I reached out my hand in front of us—to show him how much it was shaking.

My dad, though, understood. The smile that had momentarily dropped from his expression when he thought he'd missed all the action washed back over his face in a combination of pure joy and relief, with a touch of knowingness.

"Of course," he said simply.

Amy stepped slowly out from behind her desk. "I—"

She was awestruck. And so were the rest of us. If I'd had any wits about me, I'd have wondered if the cameramen were actually filming or just staring in anticipation like me and Julian, but as it was, I didn't care. My dad was finally getting what I knew his heart had wanted for so long—a reunion.

"She is truly her father's daughter," Amy finally said, her voice more sure than I'd ever heard it.

My dad glanced at me, then back at her, taking a few more cautious steps in her direction. "She tries to cover up that sentimental streak with that whole faux-cynical surfer vibe she's got going on, but she's not fooling anybody," he laughed softly.

Julian elbowed me and winked. "He's got you pegged."

I shrugged, continuing to smile, even as the tears started to fall.

"Wow, I can't believe you're here," she said. Then, "that's such a cheesy thing to say. I just don't know what else—"

"How about you get over here and kiss me. Tell me you don't feel that gravitational pull between you and me right now."

I'd never heard my dad talk like this. Only read it in his book. I guess they brought it out in each other—they were two people who were such vital parts of one another that only when they were together did their true, whole and confident selves show through. You could hear it in their voices, and see it on their faces.

Amy stepped closer to my father. "You know there were times when I got as far as Texas before turning my car around, thinking I was stupid for going looking for you after all this time?"

Gravitational pull.

My dad didn't need to hear anything else. He closed the distance between them in two strides and kissed her. I doubted they'd ever be much farther apart again.