Turning Point by Lara Zielinsky

Disclaimers: This story is rated NC-17 for explicit same-sex sexual content. (The excerpt is rated G.)

Novel summary: Brenna Lanigan and Cassidy Hyland are costars on the television series "Time Trails." After a year working together they haven't talked beyond the most cursory exchanges. Feeling threatened by the younger woman, Brenna has never warmly welcomed Cassidy to the "family."

As Cassidy and Brenna open themselves to changing their professional relationship, both start to want other, more personal changes too. They face many hazards and obstacles even as they grow too close to deny their growing feelings.

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Scene summary: Cassidy, in a last ditch effort to change her working relationship with Brenna, has invited the entire cast to her son's fifth birthday party. But Brenna hasn't arrived...

Putting her Mercury Mountaineer in park beside the mailbox at 134 Alaca Drive in Altadena, Brenna Lanigan pensively studied the cream-colored brick home trimmed in earthy dark brown. Set on a large corner lot, it was typical of the surrounding homes. Six-foot high privacy fencing enclosed the back yard. There seemed nothing special to indicate one of television's most popular stars lived here. The red and white "beware of dog" sign nailed to the fencing gave her pause.

Tidy beds of annuals lined the stepping stone walk to the front stoop. Somebody in the house obviously gardened. Brenna thought of her own gardens. She realigned her hands on the driving wheel and considered leaving. She could be pulling the weeds on her dahlias.

She could forget about putting herself in this awkward situation entirely. It was Saturday afternoon. She should be grocery shopping. She could be visiting her husband Kevin Shea in Mt. Clemens, Michigan.

There was none. One by one, her castmates accepted their invitations to this party for the son of another member of their ensemble. As the ensemble's "lead" on the television series Time Trails, she could not be the only absent figure.

She sighed and checked her appearance once more in the rearview mirror, not sure what to expect from a party at Cassidy Hyland's home. She had only appeared with the woman at official Pinnacle public relations events, and even then, she interacted with her as little as possible. Tugging nervously at the short blue ribbon holding her auburn hair away from her face, her frown deepened. What if I took "Dress: casual" wrong? She looked critically over her short sleeve jersey, dark blue jeans and cross-trainers.

Hyland was thirty years old, nearly six feet, long-legged, thin and blond, the epitome of the Hollywood starlet. She was in demand for high-value movie scripts and celebrity appearances. Brenna was five-five, forty-one years old, and hadn't had a big-budget movie project offered to her in two years.

Looking again at the party invitation's handwritten script, Brenna recalled her frustration in learning the woman had a son, much less one turning five on this early autumn day. Since Cassidy's arrival Brenna had tried to learn as little about the woman as possible. Clearly she had succeeded.

She had been furious when Pinnacle Pictures' producers decided the series could use an injection of pure sex appeal, implying she had none. Hyland joined the Time Trails cast full time following a supposed one-time appearance in a double-episode arc in April of 1999. The costumers and the directors made the most of her "assets" and gave the younger actress a figure-hugging uniform slightly different from that of the rest of the cast, explaining she had come from a different branch of the new military structure.

Resolutely, Brenna gave the blond bombshell who had exploded into her life as cold a shoulder as possible. However ignoring the statuesque frame often standing less than arm's length away in their scenes was impossible. She found herself tongue-tied or turning abruptly away to avoid her.

Early morning one month ago, Brenna found the party invitation tucked in her makeup mirror. She was not over her feelings of resentment toward the producers, but suddenly realized she was being unfair toward the woman when she overheard the rest of the cast cheerfully accepting their invitations.

She could not picture Cassidy Hyland tending a bloody knee or wiping a child's runny nose. The image did not fit with her first impression.

Since her first set call, Hyland had displayed almost inhuman poise. Incisive ice-blue eyes pinned Brenna in the scenes they shared. She stood regally tall, stalked with the sleek grace of a panther, and looked unaffected by the hours and hours under the stage lights. Flawless honey blond hair framed her cream complexioned face. By the end of a twelve or fourteen hour shooting day, Brenna was tired and worn, disarrayed in body as well as mind. She felt like a wrinkled old woman next to Hyland's golden glory; an angel...

Brought to earth to make my life a living hell, Brenna sighed. The writing staff loved the sparks of tension as the two characters set out very different ways to get things done, and constantly staged them in close, tense exchanges.

So why am I here, almost an hour late, just staring at the house? It smacked of fear and Brenna despised being afraid of anything. She gripped the door handle and shoved it open, stepping out onto the grass easement. So what if it's the first non-production related event you're going to be in the same room with her? Suck it up. Hurrying up the walk, she rang the bell before she could change her mind.

She remembered leaving the child's gift on her front seat at the same time the door opened.

Cassidy Hyland's small home buzzed with joyful laughter of children; adult voices layered over that coming from her living room. She smiled with pleasure at her success. Her castmates did not seem put off by the number of her neighbors, parents of Ryan's playmates, also attending the party. Though, she sighed, one face was still missing. Despite everything, she had hoped.

There was a light tap on the window separating the kitchen from the screen porch. Cassidy looked up to see her neighbor Gwen Talbot mouth the word, "Cake?"

She had hoped to wait until all her guests were here. Now an hour into things, it looked like this was all she would see. In resignation, she put down the tray of juice cups and turned to a nearby drawer to withdraw the cake knife.

Startled by the warm, rich voice that reminded her of smoky jazz clubs, Cassidy spun, knife still in hand. "Brenna?"

"Um. Rich let me in." Brenna backed up and gestured toward their costar Richard Paulson just closing the refrigerator door, beer in hand. "I hope I'm not too late."

With a tap of the bottle's neck to his receding hairline, a twinkle in his brown eyes and a grin in salute, Rich was gone. Cassidy took the opportunity to watch him go and spent the few seconds collecting herself. Slowly she turned again to face Brenna.

Lowering the knife she took a step back. Brenna Lanigan, swirls of gray in otherwise midnight blue eyes, was a beautiful and petite woman. She had brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail, but if Cassidy wasn't mistaken, the red highlighting was from the woman's Irish-American heritage, natural rather than from a bottle. She had always appreciated that instead of Hollywood facade.

Taking in the other woman's attire, she was pleased Brenna had understood this was an informal party. The woman wore a sweatshirt with shortened sleeves bearing a New York University logo. One smooth, slender hand rested against the kitchen's island countertop. The fingertips of Brenna's other hand were tucked into the front pocket of figure-hugging stone-washed jeans. "You look like you had a good night's sleep."

"I... yes, I did. Thank you." The woman displayed a slow surprised smile that Cassidy appreciated most after being served up a year of cold shoulder. Perhaps this could be a start of change between them.

"You're just in time for cake," she said genially. She recalled the woman's two teenage sons. "Did Thomas and James come with you?"

"That's pretty rough." Cassidy absorbed the information with surprise. "Didn't you miss a few curfews as a teen?"

Brenna frowned at her. Oops, too familiar, Cassidy thought. In an attempt to recover the situation, she pointed to the kitchen doorway. "Um, cake?"

Brenna gestured for Cassidy to go first then picked up the tray of juice cups and followed.

"Bren!" Rachelle Cheron came to her feet from the couch. A woman of exotic almond coloring and angular features framed with ebony short styled loose curls, Chelle smiled widely and easily. "So you didn't go to Michigan this weekend?"

Brenna shook her head. "The boys had dates last night." She accepted a one-armed hug and inhaled the scent of baby powder from Rose, the eight-month old girl in Chelle's arms.

"I don't envy you. Girls today can be predatory," Rachelle said. "After all your boys are related to a star." She emphasized the word and Brenna shook her head with chagrin.

"I don't remind them." Studying Rachelle and Rose, Brenna wondered how the little girl would grow up to view her mother's job. Thomas and James certainly shared their negative views.

Brenna pinched a smile on her features and turned away, taking in the whole of the living room space as she looked for a place to sit. There was the brown stuffed leather couch where Rachelle sat with Rose. Behind her were two stuffed chairs in matching brown leather, one occupied by another woman, the brunette unfamiliar to Brenna, holding a cup of punch.

She caught the soft sound of music and noticed the entertainment center set off to the side behind the couch. A shadowbox on the wall held several figurines, some Disney characters and others clearly Hummel or similar. Brenna reached up toward the glass over a beautiful figurine of dancing children wearing homespun overalls. The effect of bare feet and heads tipped back in open laughter was enchanting.

A hand brushed Brenna's shoulder. Startled she looked back into Cassidy's pale blue eyes capturing her with curiosity.

"Cake?" Cassidy asked. Brenna looked around to realize they were alone. Everyone else had already left the living room for the porch.

"It's all right. I don't have time for a proper tour, but perhaps another time?"

Tongue-tied, Brenna could only silently follow her hostess out to the porch, stepping through the sliding glass door.

Out in the fenced yard, Brenna spotted Terry Brown following Rich Paulson to the porch. The dark-skinned man was another actor from Time Trails. Terry's character Creighton was Susan Jakes' hatchet man. He was an expert at killing people. Not in the traditional sense, though he could do that in a pinch, but a computer expert who could wipe away records making that person disappear from history before they took him or her out physically. He was also their "cover" man, inserting their impersonations into the databases, so that their presence would not upset the timeline while they were trying to restore it either.

Paulson's character Dr. Pryor handled the team's medical needs. Both were as level-headed and personable as their characters, with lengthy resumes in the business as character actors.

The two men had been chatting by the grill with Jacques Cheron, Rachelle's husband, who brought up the rear with a male Brenna did not recognize. She was surprised to realize that it was probably someone from the surrounding neighborhood. All talked easily and looked comfortable dressed in jeans and pullover shirts or sweatshirts.

The atmosphere reminded Brenna of her own large family's gatherings as a child. Again she marveled at the simplicity. She had never expected to find Cassidy like this. Looking again to her hostess, she noticed the woman's soft grass-green scoop-neck cotton blouse as she talked quietly with a portly woman standing beside her.

What Brenna had thought were slacks, were actually dark green jeans. Cassidy stepped up to the other end of a wooden picnic table covered in drawing paper. Some of the children continued to draw with crayons on the space in front of them. The half-sheet cake in front of her was decorated with colorful handmade whorls and a stick-figure boy and dog.

A boy with blond hair climbed onto the bench at the end and leaned on thin arms over the cake. He asked, "Time for cake?"

"Yes," Cassidy answered and tucked his shirt in where the tail of it was dangerously close to the icing. Brenna was surprised to realize that he was Cassidy's son. He looked small for five years old.

A dark-haired boy built considerably thicker than Ryan, climbed up next to him and yelled, "Sing!"

Brenna smiled and joined in a discordant, yet joyful, rendition of "Happy Birthday" to Ryan.

Cassidy cut the cake, occasionally nudging her son's hands away from the blade as he reached to move pieces by hand. Paper plates began to circulate.

Ryan scooped ice cream rather messily though Cassidy did not appear to mind. She handed him his plate then another to the boy next to him. The two jumped off the bench, and pushed their way out into the yard to sit on the grass and eat. After being served, many of the other children followed.

Brenna stepped up for her piece of cake to hear the portly woman speaking to Cassidy. "The cake's a hit. That recipe I gave you turned out really nice. And I love the decorations."

"Thanks, Gwen." With a warm smile that crinkled the skin at the corner of her eyes and lips, Cassidy leaned forward and pressed her lips briefly to Gwen's cheek. Brenna wondered who this neighbor was to be treated with such casual intimacy.

Jerking her head up, the first thought Brenna had as she tried to formulate a response was Cassidy's eyes looked different in the sunlight. Softer, Brenna thought. She was more used to the defiant expressions she encountered when they were in character. She reminded herself, Cassidy is not Chris Hanssen, and I'm not Susan Jakes.

Brenna tried to remember that she was here because Cassidy had invited her. It was time she related to the woman personally. She cleared her throat. "Yes, thank you."

Passing a paper plate of cake and ice cream, Cassidy made introductions. "Brenna, this is my neighbor Gwen Talbot. Gwen, this is Brenna Lanigan, from Time Trails."

"Hello," Gwen said. "My son Chance is Ryan's shadow there." She pointed out the boy next to Ryan as they sat in the grass. The bigger boy was swiping a finger of icing from the top of Ryan's piece. Beside them, Sean had his son Kieran sitting next to him supervising the messy consumption of cake and ice cream by the two-year old boy.

"It's very nice to meet you, Gwen." Brenna stepped back, looking around for a place to sit.

"Sit here," Cassidy suggested, pointing to the bench opposite Rachelle, Jacques and Rose. "The kids seem to prefer the grass."

"I can see that," she responded. Clearing aside a few crayons, she settled onto the bench, looking up to see Rachelle sharing small bits of cake, and the occasional smear of ice cream with Rose on her lap.

Brenna moved aside as Gwen settled to her right then was unsure where to go when Cassidy settled to her left, having at last served herself a piece of cake. Cassidy's thigh was firm and warm against Brenna's. She ducked her head to her food resolutely.

Always to be counted on for livening up a social occasion, Rachelle started small talk about the L.A. County park system. Cassidy joined in as she described the new installations of fitness stations at her own neighborhood park. Feeling the body moving against her own, Brenna considered getting up but she became entranced by the voice and the long fingered hands Cassidy used to illustrate her points.

"Ryan and I can go through the park together. At a gym I have to leave him with the sitting service. I try to limit that."

"Ryan's in preschool at Gwen's elementary school, so she keeps him with her until I get home."

Quite neighborly, Brenna thought, aware she had no such offers from her neighbors. Then again, she tried to keep to herself in Pacific Palisades, and her neighbors, many of them in the business like she was, did the same. Cassidy, it seemed, lived in a more working class neighborhood. She studied Gwen again and watched the woman respond, "Chance gets time to play with Ryan, so it works out for everyone." The dark-haired woman shrugged as her voice trailed off.

Glancing over her shoulder back to Cassidy, Brenna ducked away from the intense smile Cassidy beamed on her neighbor. "I couldn't have done this without her," Cassidy said.

A small clock on the fireplace mantle chimed the hour drawing everyone's attention. "Time to send the children home," Cassidy murmured as she extracted herself from the picnic table bench. At the sound of the doorbell, Cassidy went to let in the first of the other children's parents. For a while the house filled with the commotion of greetings and farewells tossed among the adults and eager children showing off their prizes from the party.

Terry Brown, who had brought his daughter, straightened from dusting grass cuttings off her jeans. "Great party, Cass. I had a good time."

"Glad you could come," Cassidy said with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Becca," she offered her hand to the young girl.

Becca's brown eyes widened at her smile and she blinked, hiding her face before turning to grin up at her. "Can I come back?" The girl followed her gaze when Cassidy raised her face to her father's.

Cassidy directed her question to Terry. "Perhaps we can all get together sometime?"

After Terry nodded to Cassidy and warmly held both her hands in his dark ones, he turned to Brenna. "It was good to see you, Bren." She nodded.

Terry prodded his daughter out though she tried to cling to Ryan. Cassidy, Brenna, Rachelle, and Jacques holding Rose remained in the foyer.

"Thanks for a great party," Rachelle said, adjusting the shoulder strap of her baby bag. "I'll see you both Monday morning." She looked first at Cassidy then Brenna and nodded at some personal thought before she stepped out.

Brenna stood alone with Cassidy on the front step. Ryan hugged his mother's hip and waved goodbye to the guests.

The sound of a car door opening and slamming shut caught Cassidy off guard as she had been trying to think of something to say, something that would convey how much she appreciated Brenna's attendance at the party. The other woman also was startled by the sound, and spun around, turning her back toward Cassidy to assess the new arrival.

Behind Cassidy, Gwen grasped her arm, tense and alarmed, but Cassidy patted the hand and Gwen withdrew. She frowned at the tall man with conservatively trimmed blond hair. "Mitch," she asked, "What are you doing here?"

He nodded curtly to Brenna as she passed him going to her car then snapped his attention back to her. "I came to see my son."

Cassidy saw that Brenna hesitated but after looking back she resumed her walk to the curb. She said quietly but forcefully, "You're supposed to call first."

"You're not alone." Crouching, Mitch pulled his left hand from behind his back, revealing the wrapped present he had been concealing. Ryan let go of her leg, and sprinted to his father's open arms.

Damn, she thought with heartfelt disappointment both for Brenna's departure and her ex-husband's arrival. Familiar wariness rose like bile in her throat as Mitch pulled Ryan to him in a tight hug. Then Mitch's green eyes fixed on her.

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