I shot a glance toward London, who told me in the hospital that she professed her love to Sawyer, only to be turned down because he loved me. You’d think maybe I’d be upset about that, but what right did I have really? She explained that maybe it was misplaced passion or something, that she loved the way he loved me, the dedication he had to making it right, and wanted that for herself.
Flowers sat on the dining room table again. I picked up the note to make sure it was from Dan, then set it back into the flowers. Dad brought the last of my bags inside and Mom busied herself in the kitchen with London, banging pots and talking about how enormous the house was and wondering why single people needed so many unused rooms. Famous or not, I wondered the same.
Dad put his arm around me. “You hanging in there?”
I sighed. “I guess.”
“Been a tough year.”
“Kinda.” I smelled the flowers. “But a lot of people wouldn’t understand that. I’ve released two movies, made more money than I can handle, dated some of the world’s most coveted men, and survived a crazy infection thanks to a man who loves me more than I love him.” I looked back to Dad. “Some people would be annoyed if I complained about a tough year.”
“They probably would,” he said. “But I knew as soon as you started this acting thing that you wouldn’t have an easy life. Money and fame don’t make life easy. If it did you wouldn’t see so may celebrities committing suicide or dying from drug overdoses. You’re in this world now and you need to learn to play well if you want to survive.” He pat my head as though I were five. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I’m not so sure I want to stay here, Dad,” I said. “Every decision I make is plastered in papers and online. I miss privacy. I miss going to a restaurant through the front doors and eating peacefully without random people snapping pictures with their phones. I miss dating a guy, breaking up, and not being called a whore because of it. I miss truth and honesty and being myself without worrying about what some stupid article is going to say about me.” I picked a petal from the flowers. “Sawyer was right.”
“Hate to say this … but you asked for it.”
“I know, I know. The inevitable ‘I told you so’ is dying to come out of your mouth.”
He laughed, then pressed his hands into my cheeks. “You are my daughter. I want the best for you and I want you to listen to what I’m about to tell you.” He dropped his hands and I gave him my full attention. “Sometimes the best for you is the most painful thing in the world. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s both at the same time.” He lowered his chin and leaned his face toward mine. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” I nodded and he continued, “I don’t care if you win awards. I don’t care who you date or marry. I don’t care if you have kids or not and I don’t care how you raise them. The only thing I care about is that you figure out who you are and everything you do from now on comes from your own desires.” He shook his head. “I don’t mean to be careless or selfish. I mean, do your research, take your time, figure things out, and make decisions that you feel good about. If everyone else thinks you’ve made the wrong decisions, don’t defend yourself, don’t feel sorry for yourself. Why would you?”
I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thanks, Dad.”
His palm held the back of my head. “If you want to ride a bike and everyone thinks it’s too dangerous, get yourself on that bike. And if you fall … get back up and don’t give up.” He pulled away and smiled. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”
Mom and London stared at us from the other side of the table.
“Good advice, Dad.” London smiled. “So, Nora … does this mean you’re getting a divorce?” She winked.
I inhaled and held my breath, shaking my head.
After everyone left, I set my record player’s needle over a beautiful vinyl of The Beatles and sat down with water and strawberries. Niles begged to come on the couch with me, so I pulled him up and let him relax by my feet. I allowed my mind to rest too. Didn’t think of one important thing at all. Just sat there and listened to the guitars and drums and lyrics. After Don’t Let Me Down, I looked through my box of records and found John Lennon Instant Karma. I put it on and bobbed my head as it started.
Niles stared at me, perched on the couch, his tail wagging as I started twirling around the living room. The lyrics resonated with me so much more than ever before, like they were made for me. Laughing in the face of love. What on earth are you trying to do? It’s up to you, yeah you. I continued dancing around the living room, regardless of my pain from the surgery, using my empty wine glass as a microphone as I leaned over Niles and sang to him. Better get yourself together darlin’. He cocked his head as I spun back around and sang my heart out with a huge smile on my face. Who in the hell do you think you are? A super star? Well, right you are. Tears dropped from my lashes, landing in my smile. We all shine on, like the moon and the stars and the sun. Yeah, we all shine on….
I spent the next hour singing my lungs to sleep by belting out fun songs from the 60’s and by the end of it when I finished the Grass Roots Let’s Live for Today I wanted to do just that. I wanted to live for today … or whatever was left of it. I picked up my phone and checked the time. 11:54p.m, which meant 4:54p.m. where Dan was working on his movie.
I dialed his number and waited for the voicemail, but instead the phone crackled and rustled, then went silent. I hung up, waited a few seconds, then stared at Sawyer’s number instead.
My phone rang. Dan.
“Hey,” I said.
“Beautiful,” he said. “How are you? Everything okay? It’s late here. Or early. Dark.”
“Dan.” I bit my lip, then took a big long breath. “Dan, I have something to tell you.”
Silence responded.
“Are you still there?”
“I’m here.” He paused. “Go on.”
“You were right about me.”
“You saw him?”
“He kissed me.”
“And you told him to leave? That you’re done?”
“I let him kiss me, Dan.”
He grunted and coughed. “That’s okay. It won’t happen again.”
“Dan.”
“I’ll be home soon. I know you’re just lonely. I promise, we’ll get through this.” He coughed again. “Listen, I need to get some rest. Let’s talk tomorrow. And not about this, okay? It’s in the past, just take his number out of your phone. Don’t talk to him anymore. Don’t let your friends tell him what you’re doing. We’ll get through it.”
“Dan….”
“Tomorrow. We’ll talk more. I love you.”
We hung up quickly and I brought Sawyer’s number back up on my phone.
Judge me all you want, but I didn’t delete it.
I called it. And I didn’t think twice.
CH. 35 - Sawyer
Some people listen to happy music when they’re feeling down. According to them, it cheers them up and lifts them out of the funk. Unfortunately, that’s not the case for people like me. See, people like me need to dwell in the emotion, whatever it is. Positive, negative, doesn’t matter what it is … I need to dwell in it. I need to feel it. So I put on the record I bought when I got home and listened to Rufus Wainwright sing one of my favorite songs. Hallelujah. Maybe it’s inspirational to you like it is to Chris, but for me … it’s deep and moving in an emotional way that suits me when I’m feeling like crap.
The song played and ended, then I repeated it. Poor Gretzky probably thought his best friend lost his mind. I stared at him as the song continued and I wondered if my determination would win the day this time. The needle got to the end of the record again and I let it sizzle and pop for a few seconds, then my phone rang.
I glanced at the clock. Midnight.
Her name lit the screen, then it went black. I shot off the couch and ran to my room for the charger, but it wasn't in its usual spot. I checked my computer for the USB charger. Nothing. Finally I ran o
utside and found the charger on the passenger's seat of my car, conveniently locked with the keys inside. Why did I have to be so stupid?
I glanced at the keys, then to my house. A hanger would work, but what would be the point in all that? I stepped back and lunged into the window with my elbow, shattering the glass into the seat and my arm. I unlocked the door, grabbed my keys, and realized it was the wrong phone charger. It was my old one with the broken wire.
Great. I yanked it up and walked to my house, chucking the broken charger in the trash on my way inside. Gretzky did his business in the yard, then followed me. I closed the door and threw my phone on the couch, then sat beside it, wishing I had a house phone. Then I remembered that I left the charger in the shop. I started to get up, but sat back down and rubbed Gretzky's head. "You know what, boy?" I said to him. "Maybe this was for the best." He put his chin on my lap. "Maybe a phone call would make it too easy."
I convinced the other half of me to stay on the couch and leave the charger in the shop, at least for tonight. Hearing her voice was worth the broken window, but I didn't want another ticket on the merry-go-round. She'll come to me, I thought. If she wants to, she'll come.
About a week passed and I didn't hear a thing from her. I considered calling, but didn't. She never even left a message, so my mind couldn't stop reeling on the reason for her call. Was she lonely or did she miss me? Because there is a difference.
I worked in the shop, catching up on work I missed while playing for Boston. As I finished another stick I thought of Coach J. Nora was worth it, but I still didn't forgive him for what he did. Yeah, she distracted me, but I could've helped them win that last game. Instead, they lost. Maybe he hoped his decision would show everyone how to take it seriously and motivate them to play hard, but I watched the recaps of the game and it was obvious that they all felt defeated before they lost. I wondered if Coach even cared about their crushed dreams or if he was too preoccupied with his own to tell.
Gretzky barked. I jumped and saw Chris in the doorway. He didn't budge. Gretzky continued barking until I shut him up by releasing him into the grass. Chris kept his arms crossed and his head low.
"Something happen, man?" I said, wiping my hands on my jeans.
He tightened his arms and shook his head.
"Leslie?" I walked back to the stick I finished and set it aside. Chris stayed in the doorway, still shaking his head at the floor. I took a few steps toward him and waited for him to talk.
He reached into his pocket and tossed a coin to the floor. It clinked and rattled, then stopped at my shoe. The diamond lit up. "What happened?" I picked up the ring I saw him buy a few weeks ago. The one she showed off on Facebook with a big grin on her face. Chris sunk his hands into his pockets and leaned into the wall. I set the ring on my workbench and leaned back next to him. "You guys were doing so good."
He moved away from me and still refused to look at my face. I clapped my hands together and whistled. "Wanna get coffee?" I tried. "Starbucks?"
"Sawyer this, Sawyer that," he said. "What the hell is so special about you?"
I squinted and rubbed my hands together. "Nothing?"
"You're a freaking hockey player who always fails, a man who hasn't been laid since he screwed his brother's wife, and you sit here alone in this house with a Maltese of all freaking breeds because you let the perfect girl date some fancy pants just because you didn't like her job." He took a breath and kicked the ground. "But everybody loves you. Every damn person I talk to. Do they ever ask how I'm doing? No. No, they ask how Sawyer is doing. I'm so sick of your name."
"What the hell, Chris?"
"She gave me the..." he pointed to the ring. “She didn't even have the balls to tell me in person."
"Women typically don't have those." I closed my eyes. “Sorry. Why'd she end it?"
He reached into his pocket again and shoved a letter into my chest. I opened and read.
Chris,
I'm so sorry that I have to write this letter, but I've been thinking about what Sawyer said in the hospital and it just keeps coming back. It's not that I want you to be miserable because of me, but ... I've been wondering about it and I feel like your response to him was like a big red flag for me. I want someone who understands why what he's doing is romantic and I feel like you don't get it. You just think he's crazy, but what if one day ten years from now when messes pile up and bills aren't paid ... what if that craziness is something we lack? I'm sorry, Chris. I love you and our time together was fun, but I want someone a little crazy. I guess that's what I'm saying.
I'm sorry,
Leslie
I folded it back up and looked at Chris, but he was already gone. I walked out and saw his car, then spotted him on the ground by the pond.
I went back in and grabbed my phone, then dialed Melody's number. She picked up and I immediately got to the point. "Hey, sorry to call like this, but I need Leslie's number."
"I don't know if I should do that." She paused. "She was pretty adamant about her decision."
"Give me the number," I said.
She didn't respond.
"I guess I could show up at her job and make a scene."
"Okay, okay, but only in return for a kiss."
"I need it now."
"I can come over now."
I imagined some random paparazzi catching the entire thing and making Nora stay with cool guy Dan, then I saw Chris out there skipping rocks on my pond. He was here. Nora wasn't. "Fine," I said.
"And be my boyfriend?"
Okay, that's taking it too far. "Uh ... what?"
She laughed. "I'm kidding, Sawyer. Is this your cell?"
I could breathe again. "Yes."
"I'll text it when we hang up." She laughed again. "Hope it works out."
We hung up and as soon as the number came through I called. She didn't pick up, so I called again. And again. And six more times. Finally she answered.
"Leslie, it's Sawyer," I said. "Don't hang up."
But she already did.
I called again, but her phone was off. I almost left to find her, but she called back.
"Sorry," she said. "I'm driving and lost signal. Look, Sawyer, I think you got the wrong impression."
"I don't think so." I paced through the shop and knocked over a few sticks. Picking them up, I kept going, "I read the letter and I can see your feelings clear as day, but I need to tell you how I feel."
"Sawyer, I know how it seems, but I'm not madly in love with you or anything."
I laughed. "What?"
"I know it's shocking, but not everyone wants Sawyer Reed."
"How flattering," I said, laughing, "but that's not what I meant."
"Oh. Well ... now I feel stupid."
"Don't we all." I tripped over a wire, then decided to sit down. "My best friend is sitting by my pond right now and he looks a lot like Eeyore. Your ring is sitting on my work bench right now looking pretty confused. Look, I know what I said didn't make the most sense to Chris and maybe that worried you. But he's a simple guy. Best guy I've ever known. He'd do anything for you in the drop of a hat. He's just that kinda guy. Willing to play in the shadows when he's the one who really deserves the spotlight. He's a good guy, Leslie. And he loves you."
“But—”
"Don't get into that crazy talk. He is crazy for you. No need for castles and carriages. You may think what I'm doing is romantic, but it's been a living hell."
"Still, though."
"I've got Eeyore here. And a ring. I'm going in my house and hoping you show up soon. If not, then you're not crazy enough for the kind of love you think you want."
I hung up before she had a chance to respond, then yelled out to Chris, "Hey, man. I'm hopping in the shower."
He didn't seem to hear me, but I know he did. I took a longer than usual shower with Gretzky sleeping on the pile of clothes beside the tub. I hoped Leslie would come back. From what I saw they were great for each other and her reasons for leaving weren't even b
ased off of a real point I was trying to make. She completely misconstrued what I was saying.
I finished the shower and got dressed, then checked out the window. Her car was here. Good. I looked around and finally saw their silhouette against the water. Hugging. Good.
If only my own problems were that easy to fix.
CH. 36 - Nora
It's hard to think when your heart is preoccupied with something. There was an emptiness I felt for the last few days. Like now. I stared at the ceiling from my bed. The slightest hint of hope resided somewhere inside of me, but it was shrouded by this feeling that no matter what I did, no matter which choices I made, some kind of calamity would strike. Something would go wrong.
I got dressed in disguise and went to Central Park to watch random people enjoy their lives. Or not enjoy them, depending on the person. With each passing stranger I sunk into the bench more and more. What had I done with my life? Even the movies I made weren't incredible pieces of art. They were simple romances with maybe a tiny bit of depth. I thought I was living from a place of passion, but now I wasn't so sure I knew what real passion was. That Sawyer made me question so many things about myself that never crossed my mind before. I was still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not.
I pulled a pocket-sized notebook from my purse and a pen. Starting at the beginning, I wrote down notes about my relationships up until now. Whatever came to mind first.
Boy from picture
Idealistic romance, Gavin and Ella-ish, emotional, unbelievable, fairy tale.
Peter
3rd grade crush, didn't know I existed. Wrote letters to him and buried them in my backyard when he moved away that summer. Nothing ever happened after that, but it sticks with me for some reason…
Jayden
7th grade. Most popular kid. Finally wanted to date me. Got my first kiss out of me and broke up with me for a cheerleader who was prettier. Retreated into acting and didn't date for a while. Don’t even remember having any crushes until….
Marilyn Grey - [Unspoken 06] Page 18
