The following Tuesday Lala and Geraldine treated each other to a vegan lunch and an afternoon at the spa and then capped off their day with cocktails on the terrace of an oceanfront restaurant. Lala chuckled at the crashing waves.
“I have to send you a copy of an article James wrote,” Lala told Geraldine. “I swear, you talk about layered, non-bullshit analysis of what it means to tell a great story? You talk about conveying an idea with astronomical intelligence and somehow managing to do that without sounding like a patronizing prick? James is the gold standard. He sets the bar so high I don’t know how anyone . . . Geraldine, why are you making that hideous face?”
Geraldine seized Lala by the elbow, hoisted Lala up out of her seat, and proceeded to shove Lala through the crowd on the patio, into and through the restaurant toward the bar area and the front door.
“Tony,” Geraldine called out to the bartender. “We need our check, please, dear!”
“Comin’ up,” Tony said.
“I haven’t finished my cocktail!” Lala wailed.
“You’ve got until Tony runs my credit card,” Geraldine hissed. “So I suggest you start chugging.”
“Oh sure, good timing of the crazy outburst for you,” Lala muttered. She downed a series of gulps until she made herself sputter. “You were between drinks. Nice for you.”
Geraldine left Tony a big tip, as she always did, winked at Tony as they were leaving, as she always did, and pulled Lala toward the exit.
“‘Bye, Tony!” Lala yelled over her shoulder, still gulping her drink. “We’ll see you soon!”
Lala handed her empty hurricane glass to the hostess just a second before Geraldine shoved the doors open and thrust Lala out into the cool night air.
“Sheesh,” Lala grumbled. “Here’s my hat. What’s my hurry? Don’t let the door hit me in the tuchus on the way out.”
Geraldine hustled Lala into the passenger seat of her car and slammed the door. She ran around the car, got into the driver’s seat, slammed that door, and turned to face Lala.
“I didn’t want to embarrass you by lecturing you in public. I have officially had it up to here with you!”
“Had it with what—”
“Be quiet!” Geraldine yelled. “I’m speaking!”
“Okay,” Lala silently mouthed.
“Do you remember the first time you introduced my beloved late husband and me to your beloved late husband?”
There was a pause, during which Geraldine drummed the console between their two seats.
“Do you?” she demanded.
“I can talk now?” Lala asked, and made the mistake of betraying an oblique reference to a smile.
“Very funny!” Geraldine yelled. “I am serious. And, yes, you may speak now.”
“I remember,” Lala said.
“Hugh and I were visiting New York and, of course, we were so eager to meet our beloved niece’s new boyfriend, so we took you two out for dinner at the Sazerac House in the Village—I can’t believe it’s not there anymore we all loved that place so much, remember how much fun we had there that night?”
“I remember.”
“Do you remember what Terrence said?” Geraldine demanded.
“Uhh . . . You’re going to have to be . . . Can you be more specific?”
“Over dessert. You were waxing on and on about how Terrence was the one and how it had been so painful to kiss . . . I don’t think that was the verb you used—”
“It definitely probably wasn’t,” Lala said.
“Shush,” Geraldine said. “Kiss so many frogs before your prince came and Terrence said no amount of pain and risk is too much on the path to finding your Truest Love.”
“He was right,” Lala whispered. “No amount. Terrance was worth all of it and more.”
“So what do you think your beloved late husband would have to say about this bullshit with you being shy around guys who live in the same town you do and only fucking men who are about to go trekking on Mars for the next decade?”
“Okay, wait . . . That’s where you’re going with this? Because that is an absolutely absurd misreading of what I’ve been doing since Terrence—”
Geraldine started ticking a list off on her fingers.
“That guy from Dubrovnik you were gaga over for years. That guy who lived in Juneau where you were even considering a long-distance marriage with him with no mention of anybody relocating.”
“Okay, but that was just the booze talking,” Lala said.
“And then of course the winner, whatshisname from New Zealand. You wouldn’t stop blathering about him for three years.”
“Danny from New Zealand was adorable, and that was a long time ago, and I was very aware of what I was doing because I didn’t want to replace Terrence; I just wanted to have lots of great sex on the occasional weekend visit, which I did with full awareness, and if we’re going to continue this ridiculous line of conversation, can we at least go back inside and ask Tony if he’ll make us a few to-go cups of dirty vodka martinis?”
“So what’s changed now?” Geraldine said. “You’re having romances with a guy in Moscow and some animal doctor who’s in a boat on who knows what ocean—”
“If I had known you were going to use my diablog-slash-blogary against me like this, I would never have told you about my love letters to David—”
“While James is here, in town, and you two, despite never being in the same room together, seem to get along famously. Why are you still refusing to have a relationship with someone who lives in the same damn town you do?”
“What?” Lala sputtered. “What are you talking about? Have you forgotten about Gérard? Gérard happens to pitch your thesis into the dustbin of history, dear Auntie Geraldine. Because Gérard and I both lived on the Great Island of Manhattan!”
Lala threw her words down with the triumphant air of a brand new multimillionaire who had just watched the bobbling white ball for his sixth Lotto number roll out the big spinning drum down the tubular plastic pathway to victory.
There was a pause, during which Lala savored her feeling of superiority and during which Geraldine knit her brow.
That’s right, Lala thought. You don’t have a counterargument for that, do you, you self-righteous demi-Evita.
“That’s right,” Lala said. “You don’t have a counterargument for that, do—”
“Who the fuck is Gérard?” Geraldine said.
“Gasp!” Lala gasped.
I just literally said the word “gasp” in a gasping tone, Lala thought.
“You’re not talking about that French guy?” Geraldine said.
“Bien sur!”
“You know why I couldn’t place the name?” Geraldine demanded. “Because you weren’t in a relationship with him!”
“I would have been,” Lala spat. “He looked just like Terrance, and I was clearly at a new stage in my life, and I was ready to be in a full, committed, fully committed—”
“Yeah, Brenda told me all about how shocked she was that Frenchie looked exactly like Terrence. You didn’t even see that they could have been twins until Brenda pointed it out to you. So don’t even bring that up as a denial of your immeasurable denial that you won’t get into a relationship with anyone who lives in the same zip code you do.”
“Brenda’s such a blabbermouth,” Lala muttered.
“Brenda is not at all a blabbermouth. Brenda and I are concerned about you. Brenda and I want you to be happy.”
There was another pause while Lala stared out the window and frowned.
“I said ‘gasp’ aloud,” Lala finally admitted. “In a gasping voice. I suspect that might possibly, in some perverse reading of the universe and all the perverse forces surrounding us, indicate some level of my subconscious agreement with your perverse, barfy thesis. Well, Auntie Geraldine, I have to tel
l you that you and my subconscious are grinding my last gear right about now.”
_______________
“Wow, I wish we had more volunteers like you,” Andrew said. “You’ve been cuddling those puppies for hours. Look how happy they are. And thanks for helping me wash the older dogs. That oatmeal shampoo makes their dry skin feel so soothed.”
Lala had walked over to Dogs of Love very early that morning. During the leisurely stroll to the shelter, she had carried on an angst-filled running commentary.
I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to David, Lala silently fretted. He’ll be so disappointed. I mean, in the future I’m creating in my mind, he’ll be disappointed. In reality? Who the fuck knows? I’m not even sure reality is relevant right now.
Lala stopped for an iced tea on the way. She sat at one of the tables outside Starbucks and didn’t realize that she was making exaggerated facial expressions to punctuate her internal conversation with David. The concerned stares of the passersby might have alerted Lala to this, had she been looking at anything other than her caffeinated beverage.
I don’t know what to say, David. Shit, I wish I had brought a notepad with me because I am never going to remember any of this for my diablogary to you. Maybe I can get my cell phone on “record,” and I can whisper my thoughts into it. Fuck it. Like I could ever have a prayer of getting that damn device to do anything I want it to do. David, I don’t know how to tell you that I maybe just need to have a relationship with someone nearby right now. Maybe I’m at that stage in my life. Maybe that’s growth. Maybe I’m hopeful again. I don’t know. I’ve got to try something different. Maybe James is my something different. I’m sorry you’re not here, David. I’m sorry the timing wasn’t right for us. I swear, I will never forget you. Hmm, I’m going to have to formulate a very gentle e-mail to Theo, too. I think he really likes me. I really like him. He’s in Moscow. Fuck.
Andrew was the only person at the shelter when Lala arrived.
“Look at you walking again!” he said when Lala tentatively entered and scanned the room hoping James might already be there.
“Andrew, you are an adorable angel, and it has been way too long since I’ve been here, and I’m paying for your college education. I’m not on painkillers anymore, so you can take me at my word. And you should definitely apply to Wesleyan. I’ll write you a recommendation. Though I’m not entirely sure if that will advance your standing with them.”
Lala didn’t have the courage to ask Andrew if James was expected.
I prefer to wallow in a haze of nervousness, Lala thought. It seems to have become my permanent go-to state.
Several other volunteers had shown up throughout the morning, and Lala had treated everyone to a vegetarian lunch buffet that was brought in by a nearby restaurant. And now it was late afternoon, and there had been no sign or mention of James. Lala sat on a bench with two tiny terrier puppies on her lap. Every few seconds, she would pick them up and kiss their little faces as they napped.
Kids, your Auntie Lala is about to jump out of her skin, Lala silently told the precious babies.
Lala buried her nose between their smooth heads and took a deep, long, comforting breath of puppy smell.
“Andrew, sweetheart, I think I’m going to head home,” Lala called out to Andrew, who was in the kitchen filling up the dishwasher with dog bowls. “But I’ll plan to come back tomorrow so we can—”
Lala clutched the puppies to her chest and jumped up as the door was suddenly thrust open and an invasion force consisting of James, Candace, and Ruby’s baby carriage breached the shelter’s fortifications.
James had one arm around Candace’s waist and his other hand was grasping the left side of the carriage’s handle. Candace was his mirror image with her arm around his waist and her free hand holding the right side of Ruby’s ride. They were laughing about something that had been done or said outside.
Oh, no, Lala thought. Seriously?
“Lala!” Candace bellowed. “Great to see you!”
No, come on, seriously? Lala thought. This is happening again? My timing is supremely sucking yet again? Seriously?
“Uh huh!” Lala said.
Stay calm, Lala silently told herself. Don’t freak out. Get out of here before you go bat shit.
“You look great!” Candace said.
“Thanks! You too!”
Candace unzipped the mesh around Ruby’s carriage and lifted the sleeping dog.
“Come here to Mommy,” Candace said.
I would estimate that I’m a blink away from going bat shit, Lala thought. Must get out of here. Now.
Candace cradled Ruby like a baby and cooed at her.
“Isn’t it nice that Lala’s here, Ruby? Mommy loves Ruby. Lala, you’re like our guardian angel. None of us can thank you enough for all your financial support.”
“Yeah! Okay, well, you know, it’s my pleasure to help! Great to see you all and isn’t that funny because I was just telling Andrew that it was time for me to leave so, okay, I’ll be back soon. Have a great rest of the day, everyone, okay?”
Don’t run out of the place like you’re going bat shit, Lala silently ordered herself.
Taking deep breaths that she fervently hoped were not audible or visible, Lala tried to appear calm as she took what she fervently hoped were slow and dignified and maybe even attractive steps toward the door and the vista beyond the door where she could manage to get herself home, so she could go bat shit in solitude, with only the judging eyes of her dogs to witness her meltdown.
It’s not like Petunia and Yootza and Chester and Eunice haven’t seen me at my worst before, Lala thought. Repeatedly. God, get me out of here.
Lala opened the door to the shelter. Her shoulders relaxed a little when she felt the cool air from outside surround her. She turned back to the room and smiled.
Pretend you’re on stage again, she silently advised herself. Pretend you’re acting again. But not badly this time, okay?
“Yeah! Okay! Bye!”
Lala waved to the room and turned and walked out and let the door shut behind her.
Okay, she thought. Worst is over. Almost home. Oh, no. Jesus. Shit, James, don’t follow me.
“Lala! Let me escort you to your car!”
Lala forced herself to turn around to face the echo of the door opening and shutting again and to face James, but she kept moving.
“It’s okay, I walked here.”
“Oh. So how about I drive you home?”
James stopped on the sidewalk in front of the shelter and gave Lala a smile.
“Aren’t you nice, gosh, no, thanks. I want to walk. I need to walk. Listen, if we’re going to continue talking, which we absolutely don’t need to do, can you please walk beside me because I am not at all good at moving backward. Unless it’s metaphorically.”
James sprinted to catch up with her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
They walked together in silence for a block.
“I’ve gotten to know Candace in the past few weeks,” James said.
“Mmm.”
“I hope we can all go out for a drink sometime so you can get to know each other.”
“Absolutely. You know me. Any friend of the animals—”
“Sure,” James said. “She . . . I guess she swept me off my feet. Apparently I needed that. You know, with my wife leaving me, turns out those wounds were still there. Vividly there. Candace made it very clear that she knows what she wants, and she goes after it, and, apparently, what she wants is me.”
That’s sweet, Lala thought. Fuck me, there’s no denying that that is sweet.
“That’s a lovely thing,” Lala said. “I’m so glad you’re happy. I’m so glad you found someone to be happy with.”
“So, you’re doing well?” James asked.<
br />
“I am. I’m really looking forward to that interview you scheduled for me.”
“First of many.”
“I really like working with you, James.”
“Me, too. And more than that. I’m very glad we’re friends, Lala.”
_______________
Lala and Geraldine were on Geraldine’s couch with their feet up and with lavender masks that had been heated in the microwave covering their eyes. The curtains were drawn. The muted sounds of a piece by Brahms were almost inaudible in the background.
Each of them held a champagne flute that was never empty. Geraldine was able to fill their glasses from a bottle of Veuve Cliquot chilling in a standing wine cooler without taking her mask off, as though she had the mystical sensory powers of a science fiction epic’s hero.
Geraldine had gone into emergency mode and created a peaceful and calming atmosphere in her home as soon as Lala arrived at her door and gave her a painfully insouciant summation of what had happened that afternoon.
“He’s got a girlfriend. I snoozed. So I losed. I slept. So I wept. It’s only fair.”
Geraldine refilled their glasses and, also without benefit of eyesight, patted the top of Lala’s head.
“I’m very proud of you,” Geraldine said.
“It means a lot to me that you’re proud of me,” Lala said, “but I’m not sure I deserve much credit. I didn’t have nearly as much time to obsess about James as I did about Gérard. I didn’t even know I was obsessing about James. I needed you to point that out to me.”
“You honestly didn’t lose it when you got home?” Geraldine asked.
“No. Honestly. I took a shower, and I kept expecting to lose it at any moment, and the moment never came.”
“You’re not mad at me for pushing you to give it a try with James?”
“Of course not. You didn’t know he was dating a very large and attractive blonde steamroller. You didn’t know he had found exactly what he needed, and you didn’t know that exactly what he needed was not, in any way, me. How could I be angry with you for advocating hope? For urging me to keep trying? For insisting that I never give up?”
Lala Pettibone's Act Two Page 26
