by Lisa Ferrari
We go out back to the Jacuzzi, strip off our workout clothes, and pretty much collapse in the bubbling hot water. Kellan dives into his copy of Half-blood Prince.
I stare up at the stars, thinking about my conversation with my mother that afternoon.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Kellan says after a while.
“Do you believe in God?”
“What?”
“I stopped by my mom’s today.”
“Oh. And?”
“And… it was fine.”
“Really?”
“Actually it was shitty. But I did what you said and kept trying to change the subject each time she said something negative about me.”
“Did it work?”
“No. She kept telling me not to change the subject.”
“Did you get mad?”
“No, actually I stayed pretty calm. It was so obvious what she was doing that it didn’t make me angry. It was just kind of ridiculous. And it made me kind of sad that we weren’t able to have a real conversation. Especially because she kept looking at my ring.”
“Did she ask about it?”
“Nope. She just kept saying there is nothing wrong with me the way God made me: plump and happy.”
“Were you happy being quote-unquote plump?” Kellan makes air quotes with his fingers.
“No. Not really.”
“Are you happier now?”
“Of course. Are you kidding? Look at my life now compared to a year ago. Look where I live, look who I’m with, look where I’ve been, look what I drive, look at what I have before me.”
“Speaking of where you live, when is your lease up?”
“Another month.”
“Okay. Then we can figure out what to do with your stuff. You can move everything here if you want to.”
“I’ll probably sell most of it. It’s all second-hand junk, anyway. Everything but my books.”
“Right. So, you want to know if I believe in God?”
“Yeah. Do you mind talking about it?”
“Of course not. We can talk about anything. Remember?” Kellan kisses me reassuringly. He takes a long drink from his shaker cup. “Do I believe in God. It’s a good question. It’s important to know the spiritual beliefs of someone you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with. I think it’s probably a good idea to be on the same page when it comes to God and spirituality. I think it would be difficult for an atheist and a devout believer to stay together. But maybe, I dunno. As long as people are able to not be judgmental about it and live and let live.”
“Unlike my mother.”
“She’ll come around. Don’t worry. But as to whether I believe in God, um… I have thought about it extensively throughout my life. I want to believe that there is something more after this, that there is another dimension or a heaven or that we live on by transitioning to another plane or something. I’ve had a number of supernatural experiences I can’t explain, too. If something happens to you, and there’s no natural explanation, the only thing left is a supernatural explanation. But, at the same time, the pragmatic realist in me must acknowledge that there is a possibility, teeny and tiny as it may be, that we’re all alone in the universe and there are no other planes of existence and when it’s over, it’s simply over.”
“What kind of supernatural experiences? Have you ever seen a ghost?”
“No. Have you?”
“No.”
“Well, for example, one night I was driving home really late, not here, this was years ago when I was in high school. I was the only car on the road, sitting at a red light at a four-way intersection. My light turned green but I didn’t go. I just sorta sat there, staring at the green stoplight. It was weird. It was like I was mesmerized by it. And then, all of a sudden, a car comes from the other direction, flying through the intersection going at least sixty. They were hauling ass. If I had gone when my light turned green, they would have hit me. They came from my left, too, so they would have broadsided me on the driver’s side, right on my door. I would’ve been dead for sure.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I just sat there for a couple seconds, they flew through the intersection right in front of me and kept driving, and then I realized that I almost died. And then I drove home. It was one o’clock in the morning, what else was I going to do? But yeah, that was… strange. I just sat there for two or three seconds and then they flew through the intersection. Why didn’t I go?”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“I don’t know. I guess my guardian angel whispered in my ear and told me not to go. Or he hypnotized me so I wouldn’t drive, maybe. I don’t know. But it was definitely weird. And definitely not my imagination. But, ultimately, who knows? So, can I ask you a question? If we get married and have kids, what will we teach them?”
Holy cannoli. That is the hugest of all huge questions. “I don’t know… What do you think?”
Kellan looks up at the stars, lost in thought. “To follow their hearts. But I think it’s important to give kids spiritual nourishment the same way you give them food for physical nourishment. It doesn’t necessarily have to be one branch of a specific religion, because every religion has its not-so-proud moments, but you have to give them something. I think kids sense all that stuff anyway.”
Hearing Kellan talk about marriage and children warms my heart, and my concerns dissipate.
“Besides,” Kellan continues, “don’t worry about what your mom says. It’s your life. You’re maximizing your potential. That’s all. You’re not damaging your body or hurting yourself. If anything, being overweight for years and years causes damage to the body. High cholesterol, high blood pressure and stroke, heart attack, Diabetes… all that stuff can be reduced drastically by shifting your body composition to a lower body-fat percentage. I heard a quote a long time ago but I don’t know where. It says, ‘What you are is God’s gift to you, and what you become is your gift to God.’ ”
“That’s so beautiful.”
I give Kellan a long, long kiss.
He smiles at me and asks, “What happened to Dumbledore’s hand?”
“Keep reading.”
Chapter 11
THE NEXT DAY, I am feeling even more in love with Kellan after last night’s discussion about marriage and kids. I decide to surprise Kellan with a date night. We’ve been training so hard that we haven’t done much of anything else. Every day we wake up, do cardio, eat, work, I work out again, we eat, we work, we work out together at home, lifting weights, and then collapse in the spa or in front of the TV until we go to bed.
Our trip to Monterey for my birthday was mostly one big training session with hardly any sex. We tried to do it in the shower after our M-100’s workout but Kellan’s legs were wobbly. We did it once in bed but it was hardly the marathon sex-fest we were both hoping it would be.
Denise went positively bonkers when she saw the M-100’s video. She’s been trying to do a hundred lunges per leg but she can’t get past 70 and she has left me two voicemails cursing me for making her so sore.
Kellan is out doing errands, including making a stop at Iron Palace to give a talk to his managerial team and the trainers, as well as stopping at Stacy’s clinic to go over her numbers. Kellan invested in Stacy’s sports medicine clinic a few years ago. I know they never had sex and Kellan has reassured me repeatedly that he never felt a physical connection with her and that I have nothing to worry about. But Stacy is still in love with Kellan. She told me she was. She’s been minding her own business for the past couple months. But I just know that seeing Kellan today is going to get her juices flowing and then she’ll be trying to insert herself into our lives somehow.
Perhaps that gives me extra incentive to make tonight extra special, to make it so freakin good that Kellan’s mind is blown and even if Stacy came and offered herself to him, he would be so in love with me that he would have nothing to do with her.
&n
bsp; Pragmatism can be a girl’s best friend. Pragmatism with diamonds. Like the one on my finger, which I stare at a million times a day because it’s so beautiful and sometimes I can’t believe I’m wearing it and that I’m the one with Kellan. Sometimes, we’ll be out someplace and we’ll walk past a store window and I’ll see our reflection. I’ll see a stunningly-gorgeous man and I’ll realize it’s Kellan. And then I’ll see an attractive woman with him and I’ll realize it’s me. I’m shocked not only because I’m with him but also because that girl in the window is me. The image my eyes see doesn’t match my memory of myself and what I look like. Kellan says it’s going to take some time to get used to the new me.
So while Kellan is out (and we won’t discuss what he’s doing or who he’s doing it with), I go to the mall and head straight to Victoria’s Secret. I immediately spot a silky blue-and-black lacy set I know Kellan would love. I can’t find one in my size. Everything on the rack is for tiny girls. Really tiny.
I look around, hoping to get the attention of one of the girls busy folding a gazillion g-strings in the drawers. I’m pretty sure I see one of them quickly hide her phone.
I decide to leave.
The bra was 75 bucks anyway.
For a bra.
I exit the store and make my way to Frederick’s of Hollywood. If that fails, I’ll try Sears or J.C. Penny.
Frederick’s has a better selection. More focused on lingerie and less on camisoles and chemises and dainty little bags of potpourri to stink up my clothes.
I quickly find a matching bra and panty set I like. It’s blue and black and lacy, like the one at Vicky’s. It’s sexier, too. I’m not sure why. The whole store feels a bit… I don’t want to say sluttier, but it seems like Victoria’s Secret is for women who want to look good and feel good because they spent a lot of money on their unmentionables. Whereas Frederick’s is a store geared more towards women who simply love sex and want to look and feel sexy while they do it.
The set is still $48.
While I’m looking, the girl working there comes over to me.
“Hi. Welcome to Frederick’s. Can I help you find anything in particular?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I want something for my boyfriend. Well, it’s for me, but it’s for him…”
“I understand perfectly. Um, are you Claire Valentine?”
Holy C-cups I’ve been recognized. “Yes, I am.”
“Cool. I saw you on TV and stuff. That beach video with you and the SEALs was totally bad ass. I’ve always wanted to do something like that. You should open a hardcore fitness training school and get a bunch of those guys to yell at people and dump sand all over them and stuff. People would pay a lot of money to go do that. It would be like CrossFit except… scarier.”
That’s actually not a bad idea. I make a note to mention it to Kellan. I don’t know if Tank and Sanchez and the guys could do it because they’re still active duty military, but maybe some retired guys would be interested. We could name it something cool sounding and I could use my fifteen minutes of fame to market it.
The girl helping me has some tattoos peeking out under the sleeve of her sexy little silk blouse and she has a lot of piercings. She’s not some prissy girl.
“See anything you like?” she asks.
I hold up the bra and panty set. “I like this.”
“That’s one of my favorites,” she says. “We just got it, too. It’s not on sale, but it’s very nice.”
“I know, it’s forty-eight bucks.”
“I know. I’d have to work here an entire day to pay for it.”
“I understand that you get what you pay for and sometimes you gotta pay more for something really nice. But forty-eight bucks for a bra and tiny little panties?”
“I know. I buy my stuff at Walmart. It’s all the same stuff, too. It’s all made in China or Vietnam or wherever. Some kid making a dollar-fifty a day probably sewed it in a sweat shop. What’s the latest with your movie thing?”
“Um, I still have to do one more audition.”
“Right. I read that online. You and Calista Roth are both up for it, right? I love her but I hope you get it.”
“You do? Why?”
“Because. That would be totally kick ass. Local girl makes good. I love stories like that. It gives me hope. It keeps me going. You like Jane’s Addiction, right? I saw you wearing your Ritual shirt. I love that album. It’s funny how ‘Been Caught Stealin’ got the most airplay but it’s one of my least favorite of their songs. I sing and play guitar myself so I understand the struggle. But seriously, go to Walmart. You’re looking for something for Kellan, right?”
“Um, right.”
“Sweet. Trust me. Walmart is the way to go. That way, if he gets really wild and tears your bra and panties off you with his bare hands, you won’t be all like, ‘No, it’s a seventy-dollar bra!’. You’ll be all like, ‘Oh, yeah, baby, tear that shit off and fuck me!’ ”
The sales girl catches herself and covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh shit,” she says at last, “I mean shoot. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re not going to complain to my manager, are you?”
“No, it’s fine.” I actually like what she said. The idea of Kellan wanting me so badly that he has to tear my clothes off, quite literally, is very arousing.
“Cool. Thanks. Listen, I don’t want to impose but could I get a pic with you?”
“Sure.”
“Sweet.”
The girl pulls her phone out of her back pocket and we both smile while she gets a couple selfies.
“Thank you so much, Claire.”
“No problem. What kind of music do you play?”
“It’s kind of hard to describe. Great sales pitch, right? Um, it’s kind of like Mazzy Star meets The Doors. Not that I fancy myself being nearly as talented as them, but those are sort of my influences. We’re supposed to be playing Coachella this summer. But then who isn’t? The name of my band is Brightangel.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it’s not exactly original. It’s just my last name.”
“Your last name is Brightangel?”
“Yeah. Natalie. Natalie Brightangel.”
“That’s one of the coolest names I’ve ever heard. That’s a stage name. I have no doubt that one day I’ll see you on Conan or Jimmy Fallon.”
“That would be a dream come true.”
“So demand from the universe that you get it. Kellan told me once that Tony Robbins says the universe tends to pay whatever price you ask of it. A homeless man asking for a quarter is going to get it. I’m asking for the role in this movie, so I’m going to get it. You need to ask for a big fat record contract and a gold record with millions of little fanboys and fangirls asking for selfies with you so you won’t have to sell overpriced lingerie made in China anymore.”
“Wow. That is some powerful stuff. Thanks. Tony Robbins? Isn’t he that really tall guy who was in Shallow Hal?”
“Yeah.”
“I always thought he was kind of a snake oil salesman, but maybe not. Um, anyway, if you want to listen to my music, I’m online.”
I pull out my phone and she guides me to her YouTube channel, where she has a bunch of videos of herself playing in different small venues. I play a track called ‘Water Lily’. It’s beautiful. I like it. “It’s good. Wow. I like it.”
“Thanks. It’s good to get high to. Hey, did Roger Nemeth really send you a gift basket with a bunch of pot and a tee shirt with a pot leaf on it?”
“Yeah, he really did.”
“Wow. That is so cool.”
“Kellan and I will check out your music tonight when we get done training.”
“Sweet.”
I thank Natalie and leave. I drive to Walmart, listening to Natalie’s music on the way. She’s really good. I love it immediately. When I get to the Walmart parking lot, I find a spot and take a moment to do a screen capture and make an Insta
gram post showing what I’m listening to.
In the store, I find a bra and panty set that look almost identical to the two sets I saw at the mall. It’s ten bucks. I buy it, along with a red and white set and a pink and black set. I don’t typically wear a lot of pink but I think Kellan will like it. I also grab a big bag of athletic socks for him and some laundry detergent and dryer sheets because we’re constantly doing laundry, washing all of our gym clothes.
I get a ping on my phone. I’ve been tagged twice on Instagram, once by the girl at Victoria’s Secret and once by Natalie at Frederick’s.
The Victoria’s Secret girl posted, “OMG OMG OMG Claire Valentine is here!”
So I guess they weren’t snooty, snobby bitches; they were simply scared to approach me. Lesson learned, Claire.
Natalie posted our selfie and wrote, “Claire Valentine came in today and laid the smack down: go after your dreams and don’t stop til you get them. Thanks, Claire! XOXOXO”
It feels good that people aren’t talking shit about me for a change.
I get back into my little red Solstice and drive with the top down back to Kellan’s so I can get everything ready for our enchanted evening.
The guard, Steve, working the gate at Los Gatos waves and calls out, “Hi, Claire!” as I drive in. I wave. “Hi, Steve!”
So much has changed since the night I was stalking Kellan after our breakup and he found me out here in the rain looking for him and I couldn’t get through the gate to tell him how much I loved him and how I screwed up.
The universe pays whatever price you ask…
Best not to think about that dark stuff.
Better to focus on the present and how happy we are and how happy we’re going to remain. The sunlight sparkles on my engagement ring.
LATER, KELLAN WALKS through the door and I’m ready and waiting.
I’m wearing the sexy blue-and-black shiny silky lingerie I bought earlier, along with spiky black heels.
I have candles burning and music playing, specifically Natalie’s music which I bought and downloaded from her website.
I have the water pipe clean and ready with ice water and a clean bowl packed with Northern Lights. The fridge is stocked with energy drinks and my toy is clearly visible on the sofa. A fire crackles in the fireplace. I also have the Jacuzzi hot and bubbling should Kellan fancy a soak.
