by Mary Ramsey
“Come in,” she called. I walked in to find her on the phone. She waved to the seat opposite her desk. “I have to call you back, a stray animal just snuck in my office.”
“Really?” I chuckled as she hung up the phone.
“I tell it like it is.”
“So, we’re back to the issue of my hair?”
Angelina gave me a tight smile. “A little bird told me you’re going to Japan.”
“Was that little bird London herself? I told her what you called me.”
“That was unnecessary. And what she called me was quite rude and unprofessional.”
Yeah, about as professional as you’ve been for the past couple years. “I can imagine.’”
“Why are you even here?”
I placed the flowers on her desk as if on a grave. “Only to thank you. You suck at being an agent, but you gave me the courage to try.”
Angelina plucked my contract from the top of a pile of papers and tore it in half. She handed me the pieces. “No hard feelings.”
“I love you too.”
Breaking up with Angelina Ferria turned out to be simple. But taking a temporary break from my primary care doctor would not be as easy.
When I called the appointment line for the next available appointment with Dr. Elise Chan, there was a pause.
“Is this regarding a life-threatening situation?” the receptionist asked.
I was getting nervous. What if I couldn’t get through to Dr. Chan herself? “No, or I would be in the emergency room.”
“What is this regarding, then?”
“I need access to my medical records because I’m moving to Japan for six months.”
“Please hold,” she replied. The classical hold music sounded like it had been played on a child’s keyboard. Luckily it didn’t last long.
“Hello, Sean,” said Dr. Chan. “What’s this I hear about Japan?”
I took a deep breath. The last thing I needed was a coughing attack. “I’m moving to Japan for six months. All I need is access to my notes and my medications.”
Dr. Chan sighed. “Your medications have been adjusted ten times since I’ve started working with you.”
“And I’ve been fine.”
“You’ve been lucky. Do you even have a primary health care provider arranged in Japan?”
“I don’t need a primary health care provider, all I need is access to my medications—I can take care of myself.” By that I of course meant that I’d rely on London to get me access to a doctor in the event I needed one, but I’d lived with my condition for twenty years. I knew what it took to keep my body healthy.
“It’s a big risk, Sean.”
“I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been.”
“What are your mother’s thoughts? After all, she’s the one paying for your care.”
I was livid. “I’m twenty years old!”
“I’m uncomfortable not having her written permission to support your travels.”
“You don’t need her permission. I’m just asking for the files, and for on-hand meds to take with me.”
“Oh, I’m happy to send your files. Most of them have been digitized already. But I want to speak to your mom before I authorize a bulk prescription.”
Damn it, no! Mom will blockade me at the frickin’ airport if she finds out. I struggled to keep my voice level. “I’m leaving in a few days. I can’t wait for you to get clearance before giving me what I need to get out of the country.”
“Like I say, I should really speak to your—”
“If you say anything to her, I’ll sue you.” The second I hung up the phone, I knew I’d probably shot myself in the foot. I stomped around the bedroom, wanting to kick things. Threatening Dr. Chan was a dumb move, but she and my mom were worse than a secret cabal when it came to stopping me from trying anything new.
This could be my only chance to travel with my wife and daughter, and I wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of me having a shot at Japan.
I shot London a text, hoping she would be hooked into the local wireless. “L, I have a huge problem. Dr. C will not release meds or prescription refills until she’s spoken to my mom.”
“OMG annoying!” She replied almost straightaway. “Don’t stress though.”
“How do I not stress?” I replied, having to correct myself every third letter. I was too mad to type straight.
“You just need insurance, and someone to sign their name on a piece of paper if you get sick. Trust me. I can find someone to do that.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, L.”
“No problem. I can’t wait to see little Shauna’s passport photo,” she replied, along with a with a smiley face.
Everything was in place; we would be off to Japan.
The day we left, we had to battle through reporters at LAX. Apparently, every entertainment news media outlet wanted to know why London was taking my family to Japan with her. I would have loved the publicity, but we couldn’t risk missing the flight. Unlike her sisters, London did not own a private plane. The flight was long but comfortable in first class. I had an outlet for my BiPAP, and with the seat divider up, I slept with Shauna in my arms. London and Jen took the row across.
London’s condo was on the thirtieth floor of a massive high-rise. Not quite at the top, not the largest unit in the building, but still impressive.
Jen was looking out the massive windows with a childlike sense of wonder. Seattle was not Tokyo, Los Angeles was not Tokyo, and Indigo North Dakota was sure as hell not Tokyo. What Jen saw in the unlit morning was beyond her wildest dreams. She kept catching my eye, giggling.
London smiled happily. “I’ll let you unpack and then I can give you all the grand tour.”
We unpacked after London’s house tour and Jen finally found sleep. I tucked her in, then took out my phone. “Do you have Wi-Fi?”
“Sure, router’s in the closet. But you can just use my computer.”
I checked my email. Sure enough, there was a message from Sara. “Mom found out. Very pissed! Don’t worry, I got your back. Love always, Sara.”
I sent a reply to let her know I’d arrived safely and that I’d give Mom a call. I was already on the other side of the globe; what was the worst that could happen?
“London, can I make a call to the States?”
“Sure, use any landline.”
I paid no mind to the time difference. If my mother was asleep or at work, I’d just leave a message. In fact, I would have preferred it that way, but angry moms never rest.
She picked up on the first ring. “Sean?”
“Hi Mommy,” I said in my sweetest voice. “Guess where I am.”
“You’re in Japan,” she said in a tone that reflected her irritation and disappointment in my life choices.
I booted up a link I’d saved on my email especially for this conversation. “Yes, I’m in Japan with my family, and we’re staying at the home of my mentor. We’re not slumming it.”
“And what about your cystic fibrosis?”
The web page loaded up and I found the third paragraph of the article, reading it aloud. “Japan used to have serious air-pollution issues due to industrialization, but thanks to strict laws and public awareness of environmental issues, air pollution in Japan has gone way d—”
“Oh, grow up.” Mom wasn’t laughing. “I just want you and your family to be safe. You’re traveling with a small child—”
“Shauna, come say hello to Grandma Claire,” I said quickly, knowing she would come and be too adorable for Mom to stay mad. As I handed off the phone, London brought me a snack-size bag of chocolate-covered edamame beans.
“Read up on the product for the commercial we’re shooting later this week.” She fished out a pamphlet describing the corporate mission statement of Machete Cocoa.
My eyes lit up. “Are you serious?”
“Can I ask why you’re so obsessed with chocolate?”
I shrugged. “It was the one foo
d I could get in the hospital that always tasted good, no matter what form it came in—cake, pudding, holiday candy, even candy snuck in from the vending machines.” In that moment I felt transported back to innocent childhood. “Chocolate is happiness.”
The commercial would be shot completely on green screen, and unfortunately for Jen and Shauna, the director insisted on a closed set.
“It’s just going to be so crowded,” London apologized to Jen as we all ate protein bars for breakfast. It was six in the morning. London was the only one who’d woken up properly. “You should take Shauna to the Hello Kitty store,” she suggested.
Jen and Shauna locked eyes, grinning. I was glad they had their day all planned out already.
On set London and I were dressed in leather, looking like a hot American biker couple who liked chocolate the way some people enjoyed ecstasy or LSD. London’s long black hair was in a bun, like a ballerina’s, in contrast to my long blonde waves that hung loosely down my back. We walked through a fake nightclub filled with hot Japanese models, each offering us squares of chocolate like vampires trying to seduce us away from each other. In total, we had three interaction shots each, but each shot took ten or more tries to get right.
London had a trick of taking the candy in her mouth then spitting it out at the end of the take. But I loved candy too much to do that.
Even so, I managed to remain professional and successfully complete the shoot, looking strong, seductive, and very much in love with London. I certainly loved London enough to make it to the bathroom before vomiting.
London followed to hold back my hair. “You know, now that the shoot’s over, you can eat as much chocolate as you want.”
“I’ll take it to go,” I said in between heaves.
I wasn’t even kidding.
Four
A few days later, we worked out in London’s home gym. London ran on the treadmill while I did protein-shaken chin-ups.
She glanced over at me, barely breaking a sweat. “Since I’m now in charge of your health and wellbeing, there are a few things I’m curious about.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you still on steroids?”
“Nope. Well, nothing anabolic. No danger of road-rage here.”
“Interesting.” She watched me stretch my upper arms. “What are your other medications for? The ones you take on a daily basis?”
“My box is under my bed if you want to have a look.” I grinned at her. “Try not to faint at the number of pots, bottles and inhalers. Why the questions, anyhow?”
“It’s all about the stamina. Good to know how you cope on days when you’re not as strong as this.” London turned off the treadmill. “I need to hit the showers. I’m meeting with my agent, setting up terms.”
“Am I going with you?”
She suddenly looked very tired. “No, you can go sightseeing with your family. But just remember, in the modeling world, the answer is always yes. Yes, you can ice-skate. Yes, you can fit into clothes that are not your size. Yes, you can do a six-hour shoot without food or water: yes, yes, yes.”
“Okay …” I watched her go, a sense of unease settling in my gut. What was she preparing me for exactly? I’d been modeling for a while. How much harder could things get?
London’s “yes” rule was almost immediately put to the test for a high-end menswear shoot. I was cast along with three other male models. All of us had nine clothing changes. And I was having trouble keeping up.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t dress myself. I just couldn’t do it correctly. I had hair and makeup artists yelling at me in Japanese. They were pulling me in different directions, trying to correct my mistakes. At one point I snapped, went into a coughing fit, and simply backed into a corner.
“Jesus,” muttered another model. “Do you need help?”
I needed all kinds of help, but didn’t have the air to explain. Mostly I needed my friend, who now knew just what to do without me having to say anything. “Please find … London Sharp.”
The man left, but he wouldn’t have to look far. “Hey London!” he shouted. “You need to get in here—your friend’s having a mental breakdown.”
Fuck you and your “help”. Asshole.
She came into the makeup area, where I was sitting in a corner. The other models were already dressed and headed to the set. If I couldn’t make it to the set, the shoot would go on without me.
I blinked back tears of frustration. “I can’t do this!”
She squeezed my hand. “Just focus on me.”
I opened my eyes. London took a makeup sponge.
“Sean, I need you to stand up. Just focus on my face. This is the face of someone who believes in you.”
I managed to get my breathing under control. In what felt like only seconds, London fixed my hair and makeup.
“Now, look in the mirror, Sean. That is the face of a star.”
In a dark blue suit, clean shaven, with my hair pulled into a braid, I looked elegant. I looked like I belonged.
“You’ve lived with chronic illness your entire life. This is just one more day.”
I survived the shoot, and the next one, and the one after that. Each was a test of courage. I worked with a fever, I worked with a headache, and I even mastered the art of suppressing a coughing fit while in the middle of a fashion runway. I was bookable. I was a model. Not only that, my cystic fibrosis was under control. London came through for me, getting me med resupplies whenever I needed them. She was truly my fairy godmother.
London extended our stay since we both found enough work to make it worth it. We celebrated Shauna’s fourth birthday in Tokyo’s Disneyland, followed by a shoot in Malaysia. Every time I got home from work, Jen and Shauna had smiles for me and excited tales of how their day went. Even Mom got into sounding happy while we emailed.
I’d never felt so free.
Under the sweltering south Asian sun, I landed my first acting gig. I portrayed an American backpacker trying to ask for directions, but all the locals wanted to do was flirt with me or touch my hair. As my character is getting frustrated, a barista played by Helena Moy, a former Miss Malaysia, motions for me to go inside her café. She gives me a cup of Damai brand coffee and shows me exactly where to go on the map before ending the scene with a kiss. A kiss which took several tries to get right.
After the shoot, Jen and I laid on the beach while London stayed at the hotel with Shauna. Jen laughed. “I cannot believe you kissed Helena Moy for thirty minutes straight.”
I shrugged.
“You’re not even going to deny it?”
I held her hand as we looked up at the stars. “Helena Moy has nothing on you.”
Jen pulled me close. “Prove it.”
I gently nibbled on her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open. My tongue slid against hers. Her groan sent tingles through me. Her face was alight as I pulled away. “Always.”
The next day I had a photo shoot for the South Asian equivalent of Playgirl. I wanted to pose nude. I was no longer ashamed of my body. I lay on the beach as the waves crashed over my scarred legs, eyes closed, bathing in the warmth of the sun. It was like a beautiful dream. I opened my eyes and looked over at my wife. Shauna was off spending the day with London. For the final shot I had to pose under a beach shower. The photographer let me have a looksee at the first ten shots. My body glistened in the sun, my stunning hair flowing down my back like the waves of the ocean. I was so happy with them.
When the shoot was over, I put on swim trunks to head back to the hotel. I made the short walk hand-in-hand with Jen.
“Let me take a shower, then we can meet up with London and get a bite to eat,” I said at the bathroom door. I’d only just turned on the water when I felt Jen’s hands sliding down my front, her lips kissing my neck. I turned around to kiss her, my large hands positioning her long legs so we could make love under the stream of water.
“I wonder what your mommy’s going to think of your sexy photo shoot,” Jen whispered. “Thi
s marks the first time you let little Sean share the spotlight.”
“Did you seriously come in here to talk about my mom?” I laughed. “And if you get to nickname my dick, I get to call you McDonald’s—my favorite place to eat out.”
“Don’t let my dad hear you say that.”
“Too many parents in this shower with us now,” I said with a sigh. The mood was gone. And she did look a little troubled behind the brave face. “How is your dad?”
“I haven’t kept in touch.”
“Can I show you something? It’s going to be a mood-killer, but it’s kind of cool.”
She snorted. “Going to be a mood-killer? I think that’s already done. My bad.”
Chuckling, I grabbed a towel and headed to my backpack to grab my phone.
“What are you doing?”
Sara had sent me an email. Attached was an image; she and Diego had gotten matching tattoos. Diego had gotten his scars colored to look like he had an actual, intentional rose on his back. Sara had the same pattern put on the back of her wrist. It was a cute image. As usual, it made Sara and Diego look more like lovers than teacher and student. I assumed Remy was the one taking the photo.
Jen grabbed the phone and read out the attached message. “Greetings from North Dakota. I’m out celebrating the birthday of my mentor and third-best friend. Maybe second-best, since Johnny gave me shit for hopping on a plane without him.” Jen bit her lip. “I wonder why Johnny didn’t go with her?”
I shrugged. “He probably had to work.”
London came in holding Shauna. “Sean, welcome back!” She looked at Jen holding my phone. “Did he show you the email?”
Jen nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Shauna, do you want to see a picture?”
“Grandpa!” Shauna squealed.
“Do you miss your Grandpa?” London asked.
Shauna nodded. “When I say my prayers, I always pray for Mommy and Daddy, Uncle Johnny and Auntie Sara, and Grandpa and Remy. Because Remy said Grandpa can feel my love all the way in North Dakota.”
