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Ellen Kincaid was one of the most prolific actresses in Hollywood, having watched the industry grow since she was a child. Acting was her life. Even when she retired, because this world didn’t care to watch movies about an older woman’s experiences, she made sure to teach the next generation. Men and women had their own unique set of skills and history. She would be lying if she said she didn’t love to learn about them, didn’t love to help them.
A few of them had helped to reignite her own life too, behind the scenes, behind that fabulous camera. This was something she never expected. None of them thought this woman in her 70s would fall for a younger man (oh not that much younger, don’t be crude), everyone, especially Hollywood, assumed life ended after the age of 35. Not so with her.
Now she was still teaching, still as renowned as everyone for her knowledge in acting, in detecting acting. And now she was also engaged. Thanks to her new young friends.
Maybe Hollywood wasn’t that bad. Well, she was still around, helping shape and mould the new generation of actors, of course she didn’t actually feel any ill will towards these people.
And then of course there was Ernie. Her new fiance. Someone they thought wouldn’t make it past the age of 40 with his lungs, someone who was still going strong and looked at Ellen with stars in his eyes. Hollywood was actually quite nice indeed.
“I want a small wedding,” she mused during the first few plans of the big event, languishing in her room with her future hubby, “nothing too fancy.”
“You kidding me?” Ernie had taken to cleaning more often, flitting around Ellen’s room, distracting himself from the cigarettes she confiscated over a year ago. He knew how to do all this, iron and scrub and sweep, and still pay complete attention to her. “Babe, you deserve a big Hollywood wedding.”
She flopped against her pillows, bones weary, not wanting to argue. “Oh Ernie really, I’m an old woman.”
“You?” He scoffed, throwing his jacket over the ironing board. “That’s why you deserve a big bash baby!”
Ellen chuckled. He was always so open and excitable. Young but not too young.
She sat up, not as exhausted as she originally thought. Maybe there was just something infectious about Ernie’s optimism and his devotion towards her.
“How about this? Nothing too elaborate. No canons and fireworks that’ll give us both a heart attack. But I am up for something… elegant.”
Ernie smiled, satisfied. Just like she knew he would be. “It’s a deal!”
Living in Los Angeles meant she didn’t have to wait up to a year for any of this to come to fruition, she didn’t even have to wait six months. Normal people would. She was not a normal woman. She had important friends. She was an important friend.
Avis insisted they have the wedding near a canyon, a garden wedding called The Lodge that was a happy middle ground. Very lavish, very pristine, with blooming flowers everywhere, but also hidden well by rare trees. They picked a day just as the summer months were ending, everything still green and bright out.
Ellen would be lying if she said she weren’t at least a teensy bit excited.
“How many people are going to be there?” After a long meeting with some of the Ace board members, her protege was alone with Ellen in her office, and she was the only one to ask this question.
Ellen sat behind her desk, putting away the last of the scripts, and she looked up to observe the younger girl sitting across from her. Younger was an understatement. Ernie was younger, this girl was just shy of her childhood. But then most of the new actors were.
She observed the girl with her long brown hair tied in a messy bun, how her wide chestnut eyes seemed worried, and Ellen grinned.
“Oh, don’t you fret my dear. I won’t waste everyone’s time, we’ll be right back into rehearsals in no time.”
“Oh no Miss. Kincaid, I didn’t mean--”
“You’ll be my bridesmaid, won’t you?”
The girl stopped, startled. She did that a lot lately. Ellen had taken her in for extra classes after her first, impressed with the way she both shied away from the spotlight but exploded in the scene once she was forced into it.
Ellen was always drawn to actors when they took their own experiences and used it in their scenes. While she didn’t remember this particular practice scene in question (it was some innocuous one they had every actor use), she did remember the raw emotion across the girl’s face that immediately drew everyone into the room. Claire Wood had been there, observing, glancing in alarm at Ellen when the girl ran out, embarrassed and emotional afterwards. And Ellen knew she wanted to work with her, help her control reactions like that.
And over the last six months she wasn’t disappointed, essentially her protege took on both auditions and an assistant job for Ellen, without complaint too. She had big brown eyes that watched in wonder now at such a simple request for the wedding.
“Miss Kincaid, I’d be honored,” her voice shook a little, she cleared her throat, “won’t I be the youngest one there?”
“Well, Ernie put it into his head to only have one groomsman since he doesn’t have many close friends. And he wanted someone young, someone he helped break into Hollywood. So I couldn’t choose Avis and Jeanne and besides, they wouldn’t want to do it anyway. And if I tried choosing between Camille and Claire while one of them is busy with a baby, I know I’d feel terrible.” Ellen smiled, reminiscing fondly about how well those women actually got along. “I know you can handle it.”
“If you’re so sure.”
Ellen lifted her pen, already a familiar movement that was met with an embarrassed smirk. “I taught you better than that. Confidence. Remember?”
“I remember.”
“You’ll do great. Again, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to strain myself, let alone strain the youth. Ernie’s friend won’t do much either.”
“Who did he pick anyway?”
“Archie Coleman. You’ve met him, remember? You auditioned for that side part he’s writing for Anna May Wong as the lead. You’ve met her too.”
Ellen, a master at acting and detecting acting, don’t you forget, could swear the young promising ingenue in front of her was relieved. Did she expect somebody else? One thing about her that she liked from the start was her friendliness towards colored people like Archie. She barely bat an eye when she met him and read for the part, just an ordinary day to her. Now she felt safe too.
It was nice. Perhaps Hollywood and the world around them really was changing.
“It should be fun Miss. Kincaid.”
“Francesca dear, you can call me Ellen. We’ve known each other long enough.”
In less than a month, the wedding was underway. While Ellen wanted to keep it quiet and subdued, there was no stopping the Hollywood press. Everyone found out, as if the whole galaxy was itching to get to know her. After years of ignoring her too.
This was a world that loved some good gossip and for once this wasn’t bad gossip. It wasn’t a scandal. No, a woman well into the prime of her life was beginning again with a new beau. The worst they could come up with was how she was almost 20 years Ernie’s senior, but he wasn’t exactly a young man. It barely made a blip in the radar compared to how much he was spending for her.
Los Angeles did not often have indoor weddings because important events should always be experienced outside. For the world to see. As much as Ellen wanted to keep things quiet, she grew up in this town. She knew how the machinations worked.
Avis roped most of the younger men and women into helping with flower and table arrangements. The altar gleamed with a silver spiral archway, littered with white roses, a velvet carpet sitting on the grass leading between golden high-backed chairs.
It was all as elegant as Ellen hoped for. The warm Los Angeles air was nothing compared to the warmth in her heart. Sappy, but then when was Hollywood not sappy?
“I just think it should be a crystal swan, not an ice swan,” Raymond Ainsley’s firm director voice wafted over the first few stragglers.
Ellen watched from a nearby open window, smirking at the annoyed look in Archie’s eyes. He had finally placed the swan carefully on a table near a tree bedecked with golden twinkling lanterns, and it was already starting to drip.
“You couldn’t have suggested this maybe a week ago? A little too late now!”
“I’m just saying, I could call up a guy I know--”
“Yeah what guy? I know all the guys you know.”
“Boys...” Camille appeared, her serene and calming aura replacing the testosterone-fuelled fight that was about to ensue. “Please, let’s just get through the day for Ellen. No fights.”
“Who’s fighting?” Raymond reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. His grey-blue suit matched her dress, something Ellen could only assume was Camille’s doing. “We’re not fighting, right Archie?”
Archie smirked, leaned against the table, “Right.”
Raymond pecked her head, staring out, a note of panic in his dark eyes suddenly, “Where’s Tammy?”
His answer came pretty quickly with Rock appearing from behind the trees. He held a giggling baby in his arms, a little worried, a little bit out of his element. She had a tan complexion and coarse curls, very similar to Raymond, her father. The panic in his eyes subsided and he let go of Camille, reached out towards his daughter.
“There she is!”
She whined, ignored him, reached out for Camille, who took her instead. Which finally got Archie to laugh.
“See Tammy agrees! Ice over crystal.”
Raymond’s look of faux scorn only got the rest of them to laugh.
Rock shook his head, joining his boyfriend. He still looked a bit flustered. “What’s it like being parents anyway? I can’t even imagine it.”
“Really? You can’t?”
Ellen noted the way Archie and Rock shared such a meaningful electrifying glance. She realized then that she had been listening to them for a long time, Avis running around the room, cleaning things up, instructing how to fix Ellen and her young bridesmaid’s hair. The girl joined her by the window, long hair down in a waterfall braid, while Ellen’s was up in an elegant crown braid.
They grinned knowingly at each other and continued to listen.
“It’s not so bad,” Raymond couldn’t help wiggling his fingers in front of her as Camille held the baby close, both smiling at his silly faces, “... it’s not bad at all.”
“You two would be great dads.”
Another heated glance between Archie and Rock, this time more in tune with each other. Archie quickly grinned and addressed them again.
“Not as good as you guys I bet.”
Camille peered around then, curious, “Where’re Jack and Claire?”
“They’re on their way,” Archie replied.
Ellen turned then, excitement for the day bubbling up. She was about to get married! Something she gave up on so many years ago. Her long-sleeved white satin dress was on, long embroidered hem ready to trail behind her. Hair up. Ready to go.
She cupped her new young protege’s chin in her hand, eyes swimming. This was about to be a magical experience for all of them.
“What about you? Found anyone in tinsel town yet?”
The girl shrugged, “Don’t worry about me Miss-- Ellen.” She grinned shyly. “I’ve never been happier.”
And with that, the day really began.
There were more people sitting in those bright chairs than she initially agreed on, executives and reporters, and plenty that she never met before. But as she walked down the aisle towards Ernie in his light grey suit and immaculate combover, she realized she didn’t care after all. They all watched her with such reverence and pride, she felt like a young 20-something all over again.
And really, all that mattered was that the friends who had become her family were seated in the front rows. Camille and Raymond, Rock in front of Henry as it should be, smiling just as proudly at Archie as he was towards her. Avis and Jeanne and Anna were there, even Vivien and Loretta. Jack and Claire, sitting next to the couple with their new baby, beamed up at her, nudging each other, holding hands.
She remembered teaching them, not even three years ago. Now they were all Oscar-winners. Nominees. Actors, directors, writers, producers. And she was almost married. They were so young, she was so much older, and yet they were all equal under that Los Angeles sun.
Friends. Family. An elegant wedding for an elegant woman. Ernie’s smile as he watched her approach him said it all. He gave her exactly what she wanted, with a little something more.
Afterwards, with the I dos done, with the chaste kiss that would not be their last for the night (and not be so chaste afterwards), Ellen felt as if a tense bubble had popped. It all happened so fast and yet she still worried something would stop it. The press or Ernie getting cold feet, or something. Yet, he didn’t budge. And neither did she.
It was nice to forget about work that night. Making their way, all of them together, down to the gardens for the reception, her arm clasped tightly through Ernie’s, he leaned in and made his usual brash comment.
“More of that later, right little lady?”
He winked and she chuckled, patted his hand. More of that indeed.
Ellen didn’t bother with the traditional handing out of tables and receiving money or gifts. She didn’t need gifts, she and Ernie had enough money to last them a very long time. Instead, she let everyone pick wherever they wanted to sit, let them mingle, let them have fun. Turn it into more of a fun cocktail party. They would all have to resume work in at least two days anyway, why not enjoy themselves now? It was no George Cukor festivity, God forbid, but she enjoyed watching everyone relax and congratulate her.
She was tired by the time it all started up anyway, letting her bridesmaid and Ernie’s groomsman take up most of the work. Her companion didn’t know everyone nearly as well as her new husband’s with his suit a grey shade darker. She hung back, helping hand out delectable and varied sweets from truffles to macaroons to some Ellen couldn’t exactly name, from all around the world.
The girl’s satin short-sleeved sky-blue dress was askew, one of the braids already falling out. Ellen knew they separated briefly before reuniting at the reception and she wondered if the trek had winded her as well.
“Why don’t you drink something dear? Get some color back into those porcelain cheeks of yours.”
That somehow did exactly what Ellen wanted and she smiled at the immediate blush that ensued. But she still seemed more relaxed than before, watching everyone have fun and laugh.
“I’m okay. What about you?” Worry crossed her wide dark eyes. “Do you need anything? Water, another pair of shoes?”
“Oh Francesca, I just got married. I can handle myself just fine.” As Jack Castello and Claire Wood walked by, whispering amongst each other, she stood and caught Claire’s eye, waved them over. “Mingle for Chrissakes. Do you remember one of our first classes together?”
The two approached, flustered from the party and a little glassy-eyed, which Ellen was glad to see. Always good to remember everyone was having fun, no matter the age. Francesca lifted her head, a plate of sweets still in her hands.
“You probably don’t, but I’ll never forget,” Ellen turned to the young couple that married over two years ago. “I can reintroduce you. Jack, Claire, remember Francesca?”
“You were the one who had to walk out after giving everyone such a surprising performance,” Claire replied, flashing them a brilliant smile. “Jack was volunteering that day.”
“Oh don’t worry. I remember.”
“Shame we haven’t interacted since. Right Jack?”
He grinned, broad, dimpling. Ellen sensed a little twinkle in his eye. “Absolutely. You look radiant today too.”
She smiled, bashful, looking down at the plate she already forgot about. “Thank you. You look passable compared to Claire.”
The two burst into laughter, Claire lightly nudging her, and Ellen realized there was more familiarity between the three than she assumed. She continued observing, always observing.
She remembered their wedding even after all these years. One thing you would never say about Ellen Kinkaid, who will continue to keep her last name (not that Ernie cared), was that she did not have a strong memory. Nobody disputed this skill about the most popular teacher at Ace studios. Acting flourished because of good memory and Ellen had the best in the business.
The wedding wasn’t nearly as elegant and subdued as Ellen’s, a little more extravagant in a giant cathedral, the party afterwards lasting well into the night. She participated and knew Ernie had the time of his life, but it wasn’t really to her liking. The engagement and festivity happened quite fast too, faster than Ellen’s even.
She knew about Claire and Jack’s history too. A few nights before the wedding, Avis dropped by Ellen’s place, chugged down a full bottle of kosher wine, and told her everything. How Avis helped Jack get into the business, how she knew him about as intimately as her daughter did. She wasn’t exactly complaining and this was information everyone in their circle already knew, she was mostly lamenting about age and Ellen had gotten tipsy enough to agree.
Now she was also married. And she couldn’t lie, all the couples in their lives proved they were very devoted to each other. Avis was happy for them, the way the two went straight back into acting, even helping Ellen once in awhile in her classes.
Like the first class with Francesca.
“I see you do remember each other,” Ellen mused, grinning at the blue-green suit and dress they matched in. Noted the way Jack’s collar was slightly askew, pink lipstick on it. “Come, have some dessert. Everyone’s too damn skinny in this town.”
“We just wanted to congratulate you again, Ellen.” Claire replied, well-manicured nails grabbing her husband’s arm.
Strangely enough… she had red lipstick. Deep, almost burgundy. Ellen quirked her eyebrow, turned to Jack expectantly, but he quickly shook his head. Oh that stupid Brando dimple has already melted half of Hollywood’s hearts. She had been right after all in convincing everyone to continue giving him a chance.
“No thank you. We need to check on Archie, there’s a script he keeps bringing up.” He smiled, took Claire’s hand, and quickly turned away. “Nice meeting you again Frankie.”
Just as they disappeared in the crowd – Ellen could hear Claire’s laugh from miles away – her own protege surprised her and started fumbling around, yawning, stretching a bit.
“I should go too. Those flowers need watering.”
Ellen watched her grin quickly and for the first time since she ever met the girl, just walk away, not bothering to wait for a reply. She really did check on one of the flower arrangements, but everyone was too busy mingling to even care.
And the flowers were not in fact drooping.
As the band started playing and plenty of the younger couples started dancing, Ellen sat back down and her thoughts resumed working away. The sun set against the surrounding Los Angeles palm trees, trumpets and saxophone wafting in the air.
Camille soon joined her, the men at the table she left obsessed with entertaining an already sleepy baby in Raymond’s arms. She chuckled as she sat next to Ellen.
“Gives me a break at least.”
Ellen couldn’t stop watching Francesca in the distance, primping up already primped white and pink roses on a table near the men. Jack and Claire were the only ones who let Archie and Rock play with Tammy, whispering amongst each other. Claire’s hair was already ruined, but it strangely looked effortless on her. Avis was showing off her dancing skills with a laughing Jeanne, more energized than all the younger friends around them. It made both Ellen and Camille smile softly.
And all Ellen could think about was this: she used to be an actress. She taught it to men and women now, of all shapes, sizes, and personalities. She was a master at detecting it.
“Do you think Ernie and I are jumping into this a little too… fast?”
Camille followed her gaze and grinned, shaking her head, “You two deserve to make a life together, just as much as the rest of us.”
“Does Claire ever wear pink lipstick?”
Camille blinked, surprised at the sudden change in subject. Before she could even reply, another voice they were all accustomed to by now, answered for her from behind.
“They’re fucking.”
Ernie emerged out of the shadows, cocktail in hand, and leaned down, pecked Ellen on the cheek. She barely registered it, staring up at him in alarm. Camille was doing the same. He barely registered that, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.
“What in the world are you talking about?”
Without an ounce of subtly, Ernie pointed right at Jack and Claire, then at Francesca as she was slowly making her way back to them. Luckily she was looking down, fixing something on the hem of her sleeve.
“Those three. Are fucking.”
“Ernie really.”
She turned back, watched as her protege stopped to fix her hair quickly, observing herself in a nearby window. And she wore pink lipstick.
Ellen threw Camille an identical shocked glance, before standing and taking Ernie’s arm, pulling him close. He was still chuckling.
She whispered, “Are you sure? I’m shocked Jack would cheat again.”
His chuckle turned into a full cough of laughter. “Baby, all three of them are together.”
“Claire too?” Camille hissed.
He rose his eyebrows and that was answer enough. After downing the rest of his drink, he pat Ellen’s hand, lowered his voice, “They got this polyamory thing going on, whatever the fuck that means.”
“Did they tell you?” Camille asked.
Ernie met that with a scoff, “Oh come on, I thought everyone knew!”
“Ernie dear,” Ellen chuckled, still baffled, “you need to get your mind out of the gutter once in awhile.”
He quickly backtracked, looking a little worried. And Ernie didn’t often look worried… about anything. “You’re probably right. Forget I said anything. Henry!” He almost gave his new wife a heart attack, turning his attention suddenly towards someone else. “You son of a bitch, can’t believe you made it!”
Ernie disappeared in the crowd, towards an already annoyed-looking Henry Willson, leaving the two women to process this new information. Ellen stared at Francesca as she finally approached them, this time with a drink in hand.
Obviously her husband (oh she loved that he was her husband now) was trying to backtrack, realized he fumbled in some capacity. Since, well, frankly none of them knew this.
And yet, she believed it. Pink lipstick. The way they teased one another just minutes earlier, the way they had a nickname for her that Ellen had never used since meeting the girl. She was a master at detecting acting, yet how come she never caught this?
Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew something was going on with her young protege. Ellen wasn’t one to prod people and impose on their personal lives.
She tried to think back to that first day when they met, the raw emotion in her star pupil’s acting, so soon too. So young compared to the rest of them. As Francesca finally appeared at the table, she took in their shocked expressions and her face fell.
“Dammit. We really had to fool around today. Miss Kincaid--”
“Oh Francesca...” Ellen smiled, laughing. She took her hand and pulled her away from the table, away from Camille’s wide eyes. “Don’t think anything of it. This is nothing. He fucked her mom.”
The night ended with laughter and celebrations still ringing in the air. Surprisingly, even Ernie was exhausted, passing out when they reached her suite again, but as spry as ever the next morning. She felt like such a schoolgirl when she was with him, easily able to forget about whatever revelations they discovered hours prior.
It was wonderful. Soon they would all go back to work, they would film at his old gas station again. But now she was a happily married woman.
“What shall we get for breakfast today?” Ellen purred, still lying back peacefully in the bed next to him.
Ernie grinned, a devilish look in his eye, “I’m not really in the mood for breakfast right now but if you say so. Anything for my stunning new wife!”
She chuckled, remained in bed. She wasn’t entirely in the mood for breakfast either.
Ellen Kincaid looked forward to the exciting days that were ready to come in a glamorous place like Hollywood. With her new husband.
Such a beautiful morning too.