Marilyn Grey - [Unspoken 06]

by When the City Sleeps (epub)

  "Mom loved. There's a difference." He tossed the bag to the table and watched it spill over.

  I imagined the deer brushing against Mom as she smiled, and the times she insisted on catching the mice in our house so we could release them back in the fields. The way she laughed when I looked out the window on the first snow day of the year. Sun barely had time to rise and she was the first one building a snowman. The way she kissed Dad when he got home from work and never complained when he watched too much TV. All of those times we couldn't pay the bills and lost electric and she made hot summer nights without lights and air conditioning seem like magical adventures on pirate ships.

  "I don't know," I said, staring at the chip-covered floor. "Is there a difference?"

  CH. 24 - Nora

  Dressed in one of my weird disguises, I took a long walk through Manhattan. Life felt normal again, except it had been over three weeks since I last talked to Sawyer. April arrived with the promise of new starts and warm weather, but no Sawyer on my caller ID. I followed his games and it looked like the Bruins would make it to the playoffs. Meanwhile, I debated whether or not I should go to the premiere of my last movie. Maury insisted I go and not give the media more grounds for gossip, but they'd gossip anyway. Spencer would be there with my lovely ex-agent and I had no date. I could only imagine Sawyer showing up with me. That'd be the day.

  I stopped at a food stand and ordered two hot dogs. One with ketchup, mustard, and relish. The other with tons of nacho cheese. When I turned around I tripped over the curb. My hot dogs soared through the air in slow motion and landed all over a girl standing in line with her boyfriend. She flailed and screamed as though someone shot her as her boyfriend reached for napkins. I apologized and ran down the street in the opposite direction, slowing down once I rounded the corner. Gasping for breath, I leaned my back against the wall of a corner mart and looked up past the monstrous buildings to the cloudless blue sky. I thought of my last conversation with Sawyer, of my strange need to run from everything that felt uncomfortable in some way.

  The blue sky reminded me of his eyes.

  I ran back and found the couple on a bench not far from the food stand. They looked up when I stood in front of them. First, I took my Yankees hat off and my baggy jacket. Then, I pulled my messy teased hair into a bun and smiled.

  They glanced at each other, then back to me.

  "Hi," I said, reaching out my hand. "My name is Nora." I shook both of their hands as they nodded. "I'm really sorry about your dress. I'm so clumsy and I didn't want someone to recognize me and blow my disguise. Now I feel ridiculous."

  They nodded in unison.

  "Here's a bit of money. Maybe you can buy something nice to replace that."

  More nods.

  "Oh ... my ... gosh!" a voice said behind me. "Nora Maddison? No way!"

  I turned. A young wide-eyed girl stood in front of me with one hand over her mouth and the other hand clutching her bright green phone. I smiled and looked around, still a little unsettled with the entire situation.

  "Um ... wow ... oh my gosh ... can I get a picture with you?"

  I laughed. "What's your name?"

  "It's, um, Debbie. I'm just a huge fan. Like really huge."

  Others started to notice and double look as they passed. I put my arm around her as she snapped the picture, then five more. She put the phone down and looked at me, searching for something to say.

  "I'm no different than you," I said. "I'm just an actress, that's all."

  She smiled. "Thank you so much for this. It seriously made my day."

  I hugged her and held it for a few seconds.

  She walked away as she typed on her phone. I turned back to the couple on the bench, but they were already gone so I walked back home and called Dan, left a voicemail, then reheated some leftover fettuccine while listening to a vinyl record of Jack White's Lazaretto. During Entitlement my phone rang.

  "Sorry," Dan said. "I was meeting with a director. How are you?"

  "I'm good." I put my bowl in the sink. "How've you been?"

  "Long week. Ready for some good news."

  "Well...." I let a few seconds of silence linger.

  He laughed.

  "Well ... I was wondering if you'd go with me to the premiere for Yesterday’s Dream.”

  "Only if it's a date."

  "Things are still weird with Sawyer. I don't know."

  "The hockey player?" He laughed again. "If he's willing to let you go he's not worth hanging on for. You deserve better. You know that, right?"

  "Funny you say that. I was just listening to a Jack White song and at the very end he says we don't deserve a single thing. No one does.”

  "Yeah, maybe, but do you really want to spend the rest of your life waiting for him to choose you?"

  "It's not like that. I think he wants me to choose him."

  "Seems like you already have."

  "He wants me to give up my career for a simple life." I stepped on my balcony and looked up at the moon. "I'm not sure I can do that."

  "Okay, I'll go with you to the premiere. I'd be stupid to decline the offer. Just tell me this ... if you hadn't met Sawyer would you and I be together?"

  I blushed and smiled, shaking my head. "I don't play hypothetical.”

  "That wasn't a no."

  "It wasn't."

  "Well, miss, have a good night. I'll see you soon. What color dress?"

  "Emerald."

  The Bruins won the Eastern Conference and were officially going to the Stanley Cup Finals. Genevieve did my hair and makeup while I watched recaps and interviews on TV. So many interviews with Sawyer. He seemed different, but I couldn't place it.

  "How does this look?" Genevieve said. "You like it?"

  I glanced at the mirror. "Looks perfect, Genevieve. Thank you."

  "You're an easy one to please." She smiled. "Or are you just distracted with someone on that TV?"

  "Both." I laughed. "Makeup time? I'm thinking red lipstick as usual. Something natural with the eyes."

  She nodded with a bobby pin between her teeth. I turned back to the TV as a reporter asked Sawyer how things were going with his brother.

  "I'm here to play hockey. What I do on the ice has nothing to do with my personal life."

  "Are you currently dating Nora Maddison?"

  He smiled as another player slapped his shoulder, then he looked back to the reporter. "Any questions about hockey?"

  "Will you come back next year?"

  "No." Confidence oozed from his voice. "I love it here and these guys are great. Coach is the best in the NHL. But I miss my quiet yard."

  Camera fizzled out and two guys at a desk popped up, discussing predictions for Stanley Cup winners and making fun of Sawyer. Apparently his answers didn't settle well with them.

  I turned the TV off and closed my eyes. Genevieve finished my makeup in silence. She never talked much no matter how much I pried.

  "Must be fun doing hair and makeup for a living, huh?" I opened my eyes and admired her work.

  She nodded.

  "Is there anything else you would do if you could do anything?" I stood from the chair and shook my head a little to make sure the hair stayed in place.

  "I love what I do," she said quietly. "But I've always wanted to be a doctor."

  "Really? You should do it."

  "Oh, it's too late. Too much school."

  "Do you ever feel like you're missing out on your dreams?"

  "Not at all," she said. "I'm just happy to wake up every day."

  "Just to wake up? What about goals and passion and dreams?"

  She smiled sweetly. "I have those."

  "What are they?"

  "My goal right now is to get home in time to make dinner for my boyfriend. My passion ... I guess right now I'd say sewing. Dreams, well they aren't crazy or anything. Right now I dream of learning to bake better." She crossed her arms and smiled. "What about you?"

  "No, no. Nothing about me."

 
"It's okay. I'd love to know."

  I looked at the clock. "I better get going. Let's continue this next time."

  Our limo driver ran about five red lights and swerved corners so fast that I nearly fell on top of Dan each time. We laughed, but it was the strangest thing ever. "Say something." I nudged Dan. "Is he drunk?"

  He laughed and pulled me into him. "I'll save you."

  "Gee, thanks." I smiled, remembering what it felt like to be surrounded by a man. "Oh, thank God we're here."

  I searched the red carpet for Spencer, hoping to avoid him. So far so good.

  Dan looked at me instead of opening the door, then leaned in closer as though he were going to kiss me. I tilted my head slightly away from him and he took my hand, kissed it, and opened the door. Camera flashes immediately bombarded us. I smiled and pretended to be oh so happy to be there. Really I couldn't wait for it to be over, but I guess I wouldn't be able to avoid Spencer forever.

  Dan offered me his arm as we walked the stairs. Fans yelled out to us as we shook a few hands along the way. I glanced ahead and spotted Spencer grinning his way through an interview. He had his arm around a new girl and his agent stood behind him. A few other cast and crew members mingled near the entrance.

  Dan and I stopped near a few journalist’s and they immediately asked me, "Are the rumors true? Are you and Dan dating?"

  I tried to politely decline, but Dan stepped in and said, "I find it an absolute honor to be in this woman's life."

  "Are you still friends with Sawyer Reed?" another one said.

  I nodded, slightly agitated by Dan's interruption. "I'll always be friends with Sawyer," I said. "At least I hope so."

  "What was it like making this movie as a new actress working with big names?" another said.

  "It was a wonderful experience. I'm very grateful."

  "You seem to have a knack for dating men you work with," another said.

  I smiled and nodded as Dan took my hand and led me away. It sickened me when they asked personal questions. Made me more nervous than an audition.

  I caught Spencer looking at me. I looked at Dan to avoid his gaze, but I could see his figure moving toward us anyway.

  "Great," I said under my breath.

  "Watch this," Dan said, then he pressed his hand into my back and pulled me into him. When his lips landed on mine I tried to pull back, but he held the back of my neck so the kiss lasted longer than I would've allowed.

  "Looks like you get around," Spencer said as Dan removed his hand from my neck.

  I faked a smile and shook Spencer's hand, then walked around him. Dan followed close behind, but I now regretted asking him to come. As soon as we entered the theatre I grabbed his arm and whispered, "What do you think you're doing? This is not the way to make me want to be with you."

  "Just trying to make him jealous, that's all. Trying to help."

  "This isn't helping. Now Sawyer will never call."

  "Give it up, Nora. He's not right for you. He doesn't understand or want this life. I do." He moved as close as possible to my face, then brushed his lips against my ear and whispered, "I want ... you."

  Unwanted shivers climbed down my neck and arms. I turned away from him and kept walking, feeling naive and stupid and confused. I glanced at Dan as he walked beside me. He was gorgeous and smart and confident and ... he wanted me. Sawyer was gorgeous and smart, but not confident and he only wanted parts of me. Not all of me.

  I watched Dan's feet as we walked into the screening. He touched my back as he held the door for me. It was nice to be fought for, but the magic was missing. The chemistry. I still missed Sawyer.

  Dan and I sat down. I leaned over the arm of the chair and whispered, "I can't get over him, but I know I can't be with him."

  He kissed my cheek. "Let me help you get over him. It's not fair to him either. To keep going back and forth, getting his hopes up, then choosing this path again. You want to be an actress? So be one. I love that you know what you want and don't settle for anything less." He placed his hand on my knee. "Be yourself."

  "Dan, I really like you and all, but what I had with Sawyer was so ... the chemistry was unexplainable."

  The lights shut off. He grazed my ear again and said, "Give me a chance to sweep you off your feet. Just one chance. The hockey player will be there if you change your mind."

  He offered me his hand. I stared at it for a few seconds, then looked at him. He motioned for me to take it. I waited, looking into his eyes until his charm won me over. I linked my fingers with his. He squeezed tighter and kissed my fingers. I smiled and looked at the screen, wondering why I felt butterflies with every guy who kissed me. Shouldn't those only be reserved for the one? Maybe what I had with Sawyer wasn't so special at all. Maybe I was a sad excuse of a girlfriend. Maybe I was an attention hungry woman who fed off of relationships for some kind of fulfillment and used men to feel less alone.

  Maybe ... I really needed a glass of wine. Without delay.

  CH. 25 - Sawyer

  As I knocked on Quin's door I thought about life and how it resembled a ladder. Do you ever feel that way? Like life is one big uphill climb and there are always more people and circumstances tripping us and trying to pull us back down the ladder, while very, very few people ever stop to give us a hand up. “Fend for yourselves,” seems more like the motto of the world. Survival of the fittest doesn’t exactly leave room for encouragement.

  I noticed an envelope taped to the side of Quin's door. My name was written on it. I opened it up and read the short note:

  I knew she was going to do it. I didn't stop her. Sometimes being at the bottom of the tree is better. That's what I'm going to do now. Goodbye, Saywer. I hope you find the right tree to bark up.

  Huh? I rubbed my head and reread the note. What? I continued to bang on the door, then called 911. Images of his body surrounded by blood slid through my mind, one after another. Cops arrived within minutes and entered the house. I waited outside to hear the inevitable.

  An officer stepped outside. I held my breath and lowered my chin, trying my best to maintain eye contact.

  The officer shrugged. "He's not here. We searched everywhere. You sure he—”

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Maybe I overreacted. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

  He called the other guys and they were gone within minutes. I sat on the steps and took a deep breath, then hid my face in my hands and shook my head. Did normal people have normal relationships? And if so, what made me so abnormal?

  Playoffs started. We fought hard and won the first game. Right before the second game Jones came up to me in the locker room with tears in his eyes. "Doc said to stay on the bench?" I said as I taped my stick.

  He nodded. "I need this, Reed. I need to play."

  "Don't make it your life." I tapped my stick on the ground and leaned on it. "Be passionate about it, but don't make it your life."

  A few guys walked by and slapped a magazine on my lap, then rubbed my head and kept walking. My blood pressure spiked as I saw the cover. Nora. Completely naked in a provocative pose. Barely any imagination needed.

  "Damn," Jones said. "Let me see that."

  I slapped his hand away and flipped to the article. Pictures of her and that same dude from before were plastered all over the place. Them kissing at a premiere. Them holding hands in NYC while she wore my freaking scarf as an accessory.

  I tried to ignore the images and read the article, skimming over music tastes and personal interests, until I found what I wanted to find. The interviewer asked her about me. Her response, "It just didn't work out." Then she was asked about the other dude, some celebrity guy named Dan. She said, "Yes. We are dating." Then, as my body temperature escalated, I started to read what she loved about him, but gave up a quarter through it and tossed the magazine into the trash.

  "Those guys ain't gonna wanna mess with you tonight," Jones said as I slammed my locker.

  "I don't play with my anger. I play with my heart."


  "Thought you wanted to win this for her?"

  "No," I said. “No. Not anymore. I’m winning this for my mother."

  I grabbed my stick and headed toward the hall where the rest of the guys were pumping each other up. As I rounded the corner I exhaled, releasing my frustration and replacing it with love. Love for the game, for the guys, for the ice, and most importantly ... for the woman who taught me how to live. I needed to do one thing right before I died. One thing she'd be proud of.

  We won the next few games and had one more to win before we were officially the Eastern Conference winners. Practice was longer and harder, but none of us were drained. We were excited. I saw Coach transform a group of strangers with attitudes into a team that genuinely loved each other. Some of the guys even smiled more than when we started. Coach breathed life into them, gave them goals and the hope to attain them. I'd miss it. I'd miss them. But I was ready to win and go home. I was more than ready to go home.

  During the last game we almost lost. Came down to the last ten seconds when our left winger swiped the puck and shot it through a small crack between the goalies head and the net, sending us into over time. Within minutes, we were huddled together on the ice claiming our victory as the other team walked back to the bench. Coach watched, calm and pleased, from behind the wall. I nodded to him. He nodded back. And so we were going to play for The Cup.

  "For you, Mom," I whispered amidst the cheers. "For you."

  During the national anthem of the big game the screen revealed Nora and her boyfriend sitting in the stands. I pretended not to see her and convinced myself to not let my frustration ruin the night. Then the screen showed Quin, sitting in the stands with a serious face. I almost fell over as I tripped up the rest of the anthem, realizing my hands were shaking worse than a cocoon in a thunderstorm.

  The referee whistled us to our places. I stood in the center and the game began. Face off was horrible. I lost the puck to my opponent and fell when I turned around, then took forever to get up as I imagined Nora's boyfriend whispering, "What a joke."