I like to say that Eden was born a mother hen. By the time she came to me, loss and abandonment were as much a part of my DNA as anything you could find under a microscope. Holding her for the first time was a mixed blessing. Immediately, she was everything to me and that meant she could leave me. How could I stop that from happening? I’m afraid I’ve spent much of her life trying to dodge that possibility. Eden was delivered with all her working parts, a full head of dark hair and a list of what needed to get done around the house. When Eden was a baby, friends came to the hospital and shook their heads in agreement. She was a beauty. Looking into the hazel eyes of my six-pound, olive-skinned girl brought immediate peace. Her cheeks were naturally rosy, and her profile brought coos from the nurses on each shift. Eden’s head was round instead of cone-shaped like so many infants. Her nose sat slightly upturned above lips both pink and heart-shaped. I looked down at her as a sculptor would a masterpiece. I knew then, as many mothers do, why I came to the planet. I don’t think this is why people responded to her the way they did, though. Let’s face it, most babies are beautiful, and most mothers aren’t impartial. Can a baby be poised? It was as though Eden was working the room when she was 24 hours old.
She had her first agent at the age of eight and filmed commercials and guest spots on television series for the next four years. Then she started in films, and that brings us to the wild ride we’re on now. Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood -- you name the show, and she’s been interviewed on it. I tried to keep this train, this wayward engine from leaving the station, but fighting it didn’t do much good. Eden was most alive when she was acting, and I reluctantly accepted it. She is recognized most of the time when we go out, but she has fun with it, so it really hasn’t been a problem. She is approachable, and kids of all ages strike up conversations as though she were their neighbor.
Today Eden turns sixteen. We’re at a producer meeting with a few other select and familiar actors, for a lead role in another feature film. Eden is antsy because I promised her pizza and a movie with her best friend, Erin and she has an early day on the set tomorrow. She is shooting a sequel to Warp Speed. I’m having trouble sitting still because of the e-mail I got today. It’s the third of its kind. It was ugly and ominous, and I haven’t been able to put it out of my mind.
Eden: You think you are on top of the world, don’t you? A first class celebrity at such a young and tender age. Well, you better be careful because you never know who’s watching. See ya, little starlet.
Only words, maybe, but it terrified me. Any of those words by themselves would have no effect on me in the least but put together in this way, they become like wolves in the night, tearing at my flesh. I feel powerless, defenseless and open for fate to wickedly intervene. This is the first time Eden’s public profile has caused me to want instant anonymity for her and a life far from the glare of fame. I’ve had reluctance, yes, but never on a scale like this. I’ve shared the e-mails with a dear friend of the family, Rob Schultze. He was my husband Ben’s partner on the police force and has acted as a liaison to the department for me so as not to call too much attention to it. The last thing we need is the media getting wind of any of this.
