Inside, a hostess directed them to the dining room. Servers circled the room with carts of food, and on one side of the restaurant Chinese men in business suits and young white men with long hipster beards clustered around a giant bar carved with dragons. Avery and Alistair followed Merritt, but before she got to their table, several diners leapt up.
“Are you Avery Crown?” a young woman asked.
An ancient woman, bowed over almost in half, gestured to a medallion around her neck, speaking in quick Chinese.
“Nǐ hǎo! Nǐ hǎo ma,” Avery said, which was not particularly helpful since it was the only Chinese she knew, and the woman took it for confirmation that Avery understood what she was saying.
The young woman said, “My grandmother made this keepsake photo necklace from one of your kits. It’s her husband in the picture. He died last year.”
Avery knelt down and took the woman’s hand. “Thank you,” she said. “You must have loved him very much.”
The young woman translated. Avery signed a dozen napkins. Only after she left the table did she catch Merritt watching her, a look of admiration on her face.
“They love you,” Merritt said.
“And I love them. I love what they make. We do something when we make things like that. We put a little bit of ourselves in the world.”
She thought of Merritt’s locket.
“Something new that’s important?” Merritt said, as if reading her mind.
“Yeah.”
“That’s wabi-sabi. It’s new, but she’s grieving. She lost something, so she made something.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re a kind person, Avery Crown,” Merritt said. “You always were.”
Alistair and the hostess were waiting a few feet away, but Avery felt like the whole restaurant faded from view. Were they new or were they old? Were they anything? Was she kind enough to heal whatever hurt let Merritt sink into temptation and then pull herself back? Was it temptation, or was that Avery’s wishful thinking? Maybe she was like all the housewives watching King & Crown and thinking, If Avery could get a man like Alistair, anyone could. If only they knew. No one got Alistair. Perhaps no one got Merritt either.
Avery was still thinking when they reached Merritt’s friends. A woman with a long blond braid sat next to a Chinese girl with rainbow streaks dyed in her hair. The blond woman looked like she bathed in goat’s milk soap and had never touched a mascara wand. Her girlfriend had glitter in her eyebrows.
“You’re here! Finally!” the girlfriend exclaimed. “I thought Meri would keep you from me forever.”
“Meri?” Avery asked.
Merritt closed her eyes and shook her head. “Not Meri. Never Meri. I’ve told them. This is Lei-Ling,” she added. “And Iliana. And this is Avery and…”
Introductions were unnecessary.
“I have seen every single episode of King and Crown.” Lei-Ling beamed at Avery and Alistair. “I keep them downloaded on my laptop. Meri said she’d ask you to put me on your show, but she said you couldn’t. But now you’re here…That would be my dream come true. I want to make you dumplings. I built my own food truck, and I’m so excited to meet you because I know you’re leaving Portland in, like, two and a half seconds.”
Avery felt Merritt glance at her. She wanted to take her hand and say, Let’s make two and a half seconds count.
Avery said, “I’ll see what I can do for your dumpling truck.”
Iliana leaned back and chuckled affectionately as Lei-Ling burst into another explosion of fan-girl love. This was absolutely the best day of her life except for the day she’d met Iliana, but this was still the most exciting thing that had ever happened to anyone in the history of human joy.
“I read about the America Wyoming Foundation,” she said to Alistair. “You give back so much. I want to make the world a better place too. That’s why I built the dumpling cart. To help my family. I’d do anything for them.”
“Alistair would do anything for his family except visit them,” Avery teased.
“Oh no!” Lei-Ling cooed. “You have to visit your family.”
They talked, and Avery watched Merritt out of the corner of her eye. When Merritt got up to fetch a round of drinks from the bar, Lei-Ling said, “All the girls love her, but she’s such a heartbreaker.”
“She’s not that bad,” Iliana said quickly.
“The bartender at the Mirage takes bets on who she’ll go home with,” Lei-Ling said. “Vita always wins. She can read people. But if the girl comes back crying, you have to give your money to a charity. Vita says it evens out karma. Meri has a heart of stone. Like glaciers. Like inside, it’s February all the time, just crows sitting on power lines in the rain.”
“I can hear you when my back is turned,” Merritt called from the bar. “It’s a superpower.”
“She’s so pretty, though,” Lei-Ling added. “Don’t you think she’s pretty, Avery?”
Merritt was so much more than pretty.
Avery projected her voice. “She’s the most beautiful woman in Portland.”
Merritt rewarded her with a smile tossed over one shoulder. When she returned to the table with four umbrellaed daquiris and two small shots of whiskey, she said, “Flattery, Avery Crown. Flattery will get you in trouble every time.”
She handed the second whiskey to Alistair. He clinked her glass. “This is the Sadfire whiskey I was telling you about,” Merritt said.
Avery liked the idea of Merritt and Alistair chatting on set, talking about whiskey or Stone or some funny thing Avery had done. She imagined them all friends—her, Alistair, Merritt, Iliana, and Lei-Ling—hanging out on Catalina Island, the two couples each sharing a chaise longue. It should have been a simple fantasy, but for her it was more or less impossible.
* * *
That night Avery flopped down on Alistair’s bed.
“And now?” he asked.
She knew what he was asking.
“Now nothing. She doesn’t like me.”
“I’ll believe that when I don’t see it.” Alistair fluffed up some pillows and lay down next to her. “I see you together. I see a lot. Be careful. I don’t want to put it like this, but you”—he bugged out his eyes and lowered his voice in mock secrecy—“are really old. You’re thirty-three!”
Avery gave him the same shocked look. “You are forty. For-ty.”
Alistair’s smile was not as lighthearted as she had hoped. “The girl on Nail is nineteen!” he said. “Venner’s here because someone thinks we’re losing our edge.”
“We never had edge.”
“We had us.”
“I know. I heard about Venner coming, and, shit, I thought, ‘That’s no good.’”
“We’re here because Greg is the best in the industry, but if someone sees you with Merritt. If they think…anything.”
“People love King and Crown.”
“We love this. The crew loves it. Greg loves it. Our viewers love it.” Alistair’s tone was paternal, and she felt the seven years between them in a way she rarely did. “But absolutely every single one of us is disposable if you and I don’t play Avery and Alistair.”
Avery knew what he meant. There was Al and Aves, their real selves tanning in ugly swim trunks on Catalina Island, throwing almonds to the ostriches. Then there was Alistair King and Avery Crown skipping down the streets in El Paso in matching outfits. They had chemistry on- and off-screen. But they had to keep their real selves behind privacy hedges. Merritt was a big secret to keep, not that Merritt would even want to travel from villa to villa with Avery and Alistair, hiding behind bougainvillea. And for the first time in her career, a tiny voice in the back of Avery’s mind whispered, I want out.
“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to hide,” Avery said. “She doesn’t want me.”
“You know why I’m worried?” Alistair asked. “Because I think she does. But, Avery, be careful. And I don’t just mean the show. It’s been a long time since you’ve really liked a girl
. She’s cool as hell, but she’s troubled. Make sure she’s not the kind of troubled who’d hurt you.”
Chapter 19
A few days later Merritt walked through the peaceful neighborhoods between Hellenic Hardware and the Mirage trying to quiet her heart as well . The door to the bar was propped open, and the late-summer light showed the rips in the upholstery. Ordinarily, Merritt didn’t like this kind of decor: Red vinyl masquerading as leather. Corona piñatas. Rainbow-flag Montucky Cold Snack posters. But the Mirage had that run-down imperfection that made it even lovelier than the Pearl District bars.
Iliana and Lei-Ling were already there.
“I get to bring my dumpling truck on King and Crown.” Lei-Ling practically bounced out of her seat. The Mirage’s fraying Naugahyde had never felt such enthusiasm. “Avery called me. We’re going to be on TV with Avery and Alistair.”
It was an odd thought. There would be a whole season of Merritt and Avery trapesing around, pretending to stumble on interesting food carts. TKO would play rerun marathons for years after Avery left her life a second time.
Lei-Ling rested her chin on her knuckles, a perfect little angel. “They’re so nice. They’re just like they are on TV.”
If only she knew.
“Maybe they’ll come to the restaurant too. That’d be so good for Mom and Dad.”
“I’m sure we can arrange it.” Merritt was sure. As they had left the restaurant the night before, Avery had whispered, Of course I’ll get your friend on the show. Anything for you. Then Avery talked to Greg and it was settled. If Lei-Ling wanted Avery and Alistair trying clams at the Gold Lucky Fortune, Avery would arrange that too…just because Merritt asked and because Avery was kind.
“I’ll miss them when they go,” Lei-Ling went on. “They’re only going to be in Portland for a few days. Then they’ll be gone forever.”
The bartender, Vita, ambled over, bracelets jangling on her wrists, her whole body encased in leopard print.
“Hello, my beauties.” Vita squatted down on her heels, resting her arms on the table, a pose that was probably meant to convey camaraderie but that looked vaguely predatory. “Merritt Lessing, you’re glowing.”
“She’s on King and Crown,” Lei-Ling said. “She’s going to be a star.”
“Hmm,” Vita said. “No. It’s not a job. I’d say it’s a woman.”
Merritt thought of the tension that hung between her and Avery. Every word they spoke seemed to be hinting at something else. It was all she could do to tear herself away at the end of each day.
“I’d say the inimitable Merritt Lessing is in love.” Vita waited a beat. “That will save me a lot of time.”
“I’m not,” Merritt said. “How will that save you time?”
“I won’t have to warn women off her,” Vita said to Iliana and Lei-Ling. “I won’t have to listen to them cry in their beers when she leaves.”
“I don’t leave,” Merritt protested. “Why doesn’t anyone notice that it’s me who gets dumped?”
“Well,” Vita said, as though this were a point she was qualified to debate. “They tell me about you. A heart of stone. Maybe this girl will get lucky. I doubt it.”
“Meri’s in love?!” Lei-Ling squealed.
“No,” Merritt said. “Not…no. Just no.”
“I’m a bartender. I know,” Vita said. “I can see a bar fight start before the first punch. I can see a hookup before they even walk through the door. Don’t think I don’t know you, Merritt Lessing. I know everyone.”
“Then why aren’t you in love?” Merritt said.
“True enough.” Vita rose and tapped the table. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” She strutted off.
“Can you imagine the woman who could date Vita?” Iliana asked when the bartender was back behind her bar.
“Meri, Meri, Meri, who is it?” Lei-Ling asked.
“Vita is crazy,” Merritt said. “Do you see me with a girl?”
Merritt looked around. This was the Mirage. Right now there was a twenty-five-year-old gender-queer grad student with a savior complex who wanted to rescue Merritt and who would eventually dump her over Twitter. Merritt knew that story. She could play her part. It was like filming scenes from King & Crown, the same event looping around and around.
The conversation shifted to the end-of-summer Nostalgia-rom, which Lei-Ling thought was the most super-fun idea ever! and which Iliana agreed was a liability nightmare.
“And you can bring your girl,” Lei-Ling exclaimed.
“There is no girl.”
A few minutes later, Lei-Ling left to chat with some friends on the other side of the bar.
Iliana leaned forward. “It’s Avery.” It wasn’t a question.
“She’s a good person.” Merritt sat back in the booth with a deep breath. “She didn’t have anything to do with the Elysium.”
“I told you that.”
“I made the right choice.” Merritt leaned her head against the fake leather behind her. “You’d be proud of me. I’ve been emotionally intelligent.”
“About time,” Iliana said.
Merritt had told Iliana about Avery’s bike crash and her meeting with Venner. She hadn’t told her about easing Avery into the bathtub and stroking her hair. She hadn’t told her how her own body had cried out in protest as she’d pulled away from Avery’s kiss.
“She came onto me,” she said.
“That’s what you wanted, right?”
“I said no. I’m not going to have a fling with her. I’m not going to sleep with her. I decided. I made one of those life-affirming emotional choices you’re always going on about.”
“No!” Iliana exclaimed, her blond braid swinging as though it, too, was appalled. “That’s not the life-affirming emotional choice. The life-affirming emotional choice is to open yourself to possibilities. It’s to believe in the bounty of the universe, to look around at happiness in others and know that there’s enough for you. You can light a thousand candles off the flame of happiness and happiness is not diminished.”
“She wants to sleep with me for five weeks. More like four now. And then she’ll leave me. What part of that is emotionally intelligent?”
“You have to try. When I met Lei-Ling—”
Merritt cut her off. “Lei-Ling is out. Lei-Ling’s family adores you. You both live in Portland, and her dream is to run a food truck. Avery is closeted. She works in a different city every few months. She doesn’t even own a house.”
Merritt glanced around the bar. It would be lovely to be there with Avery in the dark comfort of a good old-fashioned lesbian bar. Of course, it was Portland; a lesbian couple could kiss on a street corner. But there was something about the wear and tear on the Mirage. It had been here before every man in Portland had a man bun. It would be there no matter what happened in politics and in the world. And Avery couldn’t come here. She had signature hair.
“I like her,” Merritt said, defeated. “Do I have to spell it out? If I let her in, she’s going to break my heart.”
Chapter 20
It was five days before Avery got to film another scene with Merritt. She didn’t know how she had stood the wait. Now Avery hoped she could get Merritt alone before they started filming, but Merritt was sitting on a retaining wall chatting with Meg, the boom mic operator and one of the few women on the crew. Avery felt a tug of jealousy. Merritt leaned in, her dark hair falling over her eyes, her posture loose and confident, as though she had spent her life on television sets. Her crisp white blouse opened to reveal a hint of her coral bra. Avery loved the contrast between Merritt’s masculine style and that edge of lace. She did not like the way Merritt looked at Meg with a smile that seemed to say, Smother me in your aftermarket boom mic windscreen. She didn’t like the fact that Meg, with her kangaroo vest and crew-cut hair, could ask Merritt out on a date, take her downtown, hold her hand without once looking over her shoulder to see if Dan Ponza was watching.
“All right,” Greg called out to
the assembled crew. “You’ve all read your call sheets.”
Avery hadn’t looked at her call sheet.
“We want Avery, Merritt, Mike, Tom, Setter, Chris, Tami, and Colton in van one. You’re going to the Peculiarium. Don’t ask. Avery, remember the line is ‘keep Portland weird.’ You’re decorating a city that ties plastic horses to the tethering rings left in the sidewalks from 1890 and gives walking tours of the ‘installation.’” He held up his fingers in double quotes. “Now, Alistair, Beth, Sean…” He continued his instructions.
Avery caught up with Merritt as Merritt hurried to the van.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“I have ball bearings in my hair.”
“I liked your friends,” Avery said.
One of the cameramen jostled by them. “Coming?” he asked.
Alistair called, “Be good,” from the open door of his van.
Merritt climbed nimbly into her van.
Sean, the assistant photography director, had been learning to play guitar. His acoustic followed them everywhere. He plucked a few chords as they set off, and everyone groaned.
“Play ‘Free Bird,’” Merritt said, leaning over the back of her seat and grinning. “I love ‘Free Bird.’”
It was like she had been with the crew forever.
“No one loves ‘Free Bird,’” Setter protested.
Sean struck the first chords. The crew let out a collective “nooo.”
“Sean, I think your friends really support you,” Merritt said. “They want to hear you practice.”
Sean sang, “Biiiird,” a few notes too high.
“Freeee,” Merritt chimed in, actually hitting the note.
The crew laughed, and Setter and Chris joined in. Then the whole van was singing.
It was like watching Merritt at the reunion, all the linen-suited women fluttering around her. The men had crushes on her already. And so did Avery. A hopeless, teenage crush. The kind that saw no reason. The kind she should have had at eighteen when, instead, she’d sensibly agreed that no one married their high school sweetheart and it wasn’t worth ruining her chances on King & Crown for a girl.
Worth the Wait Page 13
