“You’re kind of hot,” Karen said. “You know that, right?”
Eddie wasn’t sure whether she expected an answer, but he told her, “I guess.”
Karen laughed.
“You’re going to be starring in these plays by the time you’re my age.”
She said this as though they were of an entirely different generation. Her attitude implied a hard-won knowledge she wished to convey to him but knew could only be had by subjecting one’s soul to the smithy that was ninth grade. When she’d finished her Coke, she set the can down and calmly kissed him. They went on for half an hour, until Eddie told her he had to be home for dinner.
So it had been for the remaining five weeks of rehearsal. They always messed around right out in the living room, suggesting to Eddie that there was no risk of an adult coming home. Perhaps Karen’s parents wouldn’t have been bothered by discovering him on their couch, his hand beneath their daughter’s uniform skirt. The whole thing was so strange to Eddie that he couldn’t know.
The arrangement only lasted as long as the play. When Karen’s father brought a bouquet of flowers backstage at the last performance, she didn’t introduce him to Eddie. When he casually brought up the possibility of seeing each other over Christmas break, Karen explained that her family was going to Jamaica. Eddie wasn’t sure she would have appreciated an eighth grader waiting unannounced outside her school, so he made no effort to track her down in the spring. What had already happened was enough. He had confidence for the first time in his life, and that confidence was bound intimately to the belief that he could act. And Karen was right: by sophomore year, he was the star of the show.
All of this had retreated to a dark corner of his memory until he picked up the magazine that day. But he recognized Karen on the page, and it came flooding back. Perhaps she was really the one to blame for setting him on the disastrous path toward acting. Though it didn’t seem so disastrous anymore. This article more than anything else made Eddie realize something he’d been too busy to understand sooner: he was a regular on a television show. He’d gotten what he’d always wanted.
Karen worked in finance now. She was divorced and raising her sons on her own. She described rehearsing The Crucible with Eddie. “He was younger than me,” she said. “But he was kind of a wild one. He talked me into taking him home after rehearsal. I have to say I wasn’t too surprised when I saw that tape. I could have told you back then he had it in him.”
TWENTY
“WHAT ARE WE DOING this morning?” Eddie asked over breakfast a few weeks later.
Melissa worked a bit of egg from a corner of her square hotel plate.
“I’ve got class,” she answered. “You’re on your own.”
Since the beginning of the semester in late January, she’d attended school just often enough to call herself a student without possibly learning anything. There’d been a spike in applications to the university since Melissa had joined the show, and so long as she mentioned the place once in a while she could have passed her courses without showing up at all. But Dell wanted her there occasionally for the sake of the story arc. On those days, Eddie usually walked her to campus and waited in a nearby coffee shop. Sitting among the students, he looked old and out of place, which was part of the point.
“What class?” he asked.
“It’s called Physician, Heal Thyself. It’s a seminar on the career of Martha Martin.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Melissa laughed.
“Yes, I’m fucking kidding you. It’s on postwar Italian cinema. Neorealismo.”
She rounded the last vowel out with an excited flourish.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“I think I can find it myself.”
As far as Eddie could tell, there was nothing planned for him in Melissa’s absence. The prospect of a truly unscheduled day—his first in more than a month—appealed to him. There would still be an audience wherever he want, but nothing interesting enough to air was likely to happen, so he could relax a little bit.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” he said as they finished breakfast, speaking as much to the crew as to Melissa. If they had some other plan for him, they would have to let him know. But they didn’t.
“See you after class,” Melissa said. “We can do something nice tonight.”
Once the extent of Eddie and Melissa’s popularity became clear, Moody had sent a second cameraman to the Cue. Now Hal was assigned exclusively to Eddie. He followed quietly, but Eddie always knew he was there. The two of them left the room together and took the elevator downstairs. The crowd outside the Cue had grown in recent weeks, but Eddie felt something new as he exited the revolving door, some difference in the tone of their anticipation. They pressed in with more urgency than usual.
“What do you have to say to him?”
Eddie was asked all sorts of ridiculous things when he stepped into public. His job was to smile and keep walking. But it took discipline he didn’t yet have to ignore a direct question posed in this way.
“Say to who?”
“Patrick,” several voices called out at once.
The man who’d asked the initial question shoved a copy of the Daily News into Eddie’s chest. “Paddy’s Pain,” the headline read. “‘Creep Teach Stole My Girl.’”
“What do you have to say to him?”
Patrick was shown crying on the front page. The photo seemed to have been taken recently. He’d grown some fitful facial hair since going off to college, and his face looked fuller. He was holding up a photo within the photo—he and Melissa slow dancing together, perhaps at one of their proms.
“They’d already split up,” Eddie said. “I didn’t take her from him.”
This seemed to strike the crowd more as an admission than a defense. Eddie stood dumb while they took pictures of him holding the paper. He wasn’t sure whether Patrick knew what was actually going on, but it seemed likely that he did. Eddie hadn’t even thought about Patrick, so he didn’t know how his character was supposed to relate to him. He couldn’t play the scene. He folded the paper under his arm and walked back inside as the photographers pushed in. He felt on the point of crying himself, but he worried how the tears would look. Would they humanize him or dramatize his guilt? Would they seem calculated? If he held them back, he’d be blamed for his coldness instead. This was his problem—if he was anything less than completely committed, he became lost. If he stopped to make a decision, it was always the wrong one. If he connected the self inside with the show he was putting on, both would suffer. He needed to act on instinct, and instinct told him to retreat.
Back in the elevator, Eddie’s surprise turned to anger. He didn’t believe for a moment that Patrick was hurt. He just wanted a piece of the story. Melissa had probably recruited him. At the very least, she’d known it was coming, and she’d sent Eddie out to face it alone.
“Have you seen this?” he asked as he charged back into the room. He threw the paper down on the desk where Melissa sat with her laptop open, pretending to prepare for class.
She looked up with tears in her eyes. They trailed down her face, ruining the makeup that she hadn’t been wearing when Eddie left the room. The tears looked real enough, and they kept coming now. Eddie himself had never mastered crying on command.
“I’ve seen it.”
He was playing the scene all wrong. His anger would look defensive, even cruel. He realized they’d set him up for this, which only made him angrier.
“What are we going to do?” he asked, trying to control the tone of his voice.
“I don’t know.” Melissa seemed to be genuinely considering the question. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
Eddie reached out for her, and she began to cry again.
“The important thing is that we still have each other,” he whispered, loud enough for his mike to pick up.
“But that’s just it.” She turned her face to meet his squarely. “I think I’m
still in love with him.”
She couldn’t do this now.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t yell at me.”
“We had a deal.”
“Is that how you think of us? Like some kind of deal? An arrangement of convenience? This has all changed you. You’re not the same person I fell in love with. When I saw Patrick’s face on that newspaper, I remembered how simple things were back then. How innocent we were. I started having feelings for him again.”
Whatever effort he made now to get things under control had to happen on camera. Otherwise it wouldn’t be real.
“This isn’t a matter of convenience for me,” he explained. “When I say we had a deal, I just mean that we promised to stick together through the good times and the bad times. This is tough for both of us, and I don’t want to see Patrick hurt any more than you do. But we can get through it.”
Eddie’s voice weakened as he spoke. When he’d finished, he saw a look on Melissa’s face that he hadn’t seen before: he’d impressed her.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’ll stick it out for now.”
“TELL ME ABOUT WHAT happened out there,” Dell asked Eddie in the interview room after Melissa had left.
“You know what happened,” Eddie said. “I got ambushed. Everyone here knew what was coming except for me.”
Dell didn’t deny the fact.
“Why don’t we just stick with Patrick for the moment?”
“Fuck Patrick,” Eddie said. “This had nothing to do with him. You guys set me up. Moody probably put Patrick in touch with the papers personally.”
“That might be true. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know how it happened. That’s not part of my job. But how it happened isn’t really the point. I’d like you to talk—in the moment—about seeing that paper. How do you feel as you look at that photo of Patrick?”
Eddie tried to return to character.
“I feel bad about it,” he said. “Patrick didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry he got hurt. He’s the best student I’ve ever had, and I wish him only the best.”
“And what did you feel when Melissa told you she still had feelings for him?”
Eddie took a slow drink of water. For the first time it struck him that this development might be a good thing. He didn’t want to stay with Melissa; he wanted to get back to Susan. If Melissa had somewhere else to go, it made it easier for them to separate.
“I guess I should have known,” Eddie said. “I mean, everything happened so quickly between us. I still have feelings for my wife. I can hardly blame her for having feelings for Patrick.”
“It sounds like you would almost be relieved if Melissa went back to him.”
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that I never expected this to be easy.”
By the time the interview was over, Eddie had his bearings back. He might even have made himself sympathetic, or given Moody the material to make him sympathetic if Moody wished to do it. Of course, there was at least as much material to make him into a villain. Eddie wouldn’t know for another two weeks which option they chose, but this didn’t bother him. All that really mattered was that he was interesting. If the audience came to think it would be a tragic mistake for Susan to take him back, that only helped his chances.
In the meantime, Eddie could see why Melissa had brought Patrick into the story. She wouldn’t allow herself to be left behind. She’d come to depend on the camera, and she wasn’t going to return to unwatched obscurity when Eddie went back to Susan. Introducing Patrick meant that she had a story of her own once Eddie was gone. And he had no objection to that, provided she stayed as long as he needed her. But her native understanding of the world they’d entered no longer struck him as such a great thing. She wasn’t his guide; she was his competitor.
TWENTY-ONE
THE NEXT EPISODE BEGAN with Susan at her prenatal yoga class, but it soon shifted to Eddie and Melissa, who were the focus of the rest of the hour. Eddie could see why no one had warned him what was waiting for him outside the hotel. He did so much better this way. The disbelief on his face looked real, because it was real. He clearly saw this development as a nuisance, which made him seem uncaring. When they cut back to the suite, he perfectly played the selfish man, disturbed by the intrusion of the boy he’d hurt, projecting his guilt by yelling at Melissa for something she couldn’t control. Even Eddie felt moved watcing Melissa say that she’d never meant for anyone to get hurt.
“He was my old boyfriend,” Melissa explained, catching up the rare viewer who wasn’t following along online. “Eddie was his high school drama teacher, and that was how we first met. When people started asking about Patrick, Eddie just lost it. I wish he wouldn’t take it out on me.”
They cut to Eddie in the interview room.
“Fuck Patrick,” he said. The first word was censored, but no one would mistake it. “This had nothing to do with him.”
Beside him, Melissa gave an audible gasp.
“You really went for it,” she said.
He should have known they would use that remark. They worked through hours of interviews to capture something like that. The moments when he let his private self out were precisely the ones they would turn against him. But he still suspected that looking like a jerk would help his cause.
His angry face left the screen, replaced by a grainy, shaky video. At first, it was difficult to make much out, but the baroque cross in the center of the shot established the setting for Eddie, and he quickly found Patrick at the lectern beneath it. A moment after Eddie oriented himself, a title at the bottom of the screen did the work for the rest of the audience: “St. Albert’s School Graduation.” The audio was hardly comprehensible, but titles had been added so viewers could read Patrick’s speech, or at least the few sentences about Eddie. The speech had been cut so that the closing remarks, about how much Patrick owed to St. Albert’s, seemed to refer to Eddie as well.
“How did they get that?” Eddie asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Melissa said. “I was sitting with his family, and no one was recording it.”
The video made a nice endpoint for their side of the story, so Eddie expected the episode to return to Susan after the commercial. Instead Melissa walked down Broadway alone. She had on the same clothes she’d been wearing during their argument about Patrick, which probably meant this footage had been taken while she was on her way to class. It seemed an oddly anticlimactic moment to finish the show. But Melissa continued past the building where her classes were held and walked west through Washington Square. She approached the Washington Diner on Sixth Avenue, and the camera pointed through the window to show Patrick waiting in a booth inside. The window framed a shot of Melissa walking past the counter as Patrick stood to meet her.
While the credits rolled over this ambiguous ending, Melissa shifted expectantly beside Eddie. He realized that the next scene in their drama was meant to play out now. This was one of the strangest things about televised life: you were called upon to respond to the producers’ construction, and those responses then became part of the construction itself. In this case Eddie found it easy to meet expectations, since he really did feel betrayed.
“You told me you were going to class.”
“I can explain.” Melissa stood up from the bed and crossed the room dramatically. “He just wanted to meet, to talk about everything.”
“You could have told me. Did you think I wouldn’t let you see him?”
“I thought it would be simpler this way.”
“Simpler for me to find out by watching it on television? I mean, Jesus, Melissa. There were cameras following you. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
It gave Eddie satisfaction to know that she was stuck. She couldn’t admit that she’d wanted him to learn what she’d done this way precisely so that they could play out this scene.
“I guess I didn’t think about it. I planned to tell you before it ever made it to
the air.”
“Have you been seeing him a lot?”
“It was just that once.”
“Did anything happen?”
Melissa looked for a moment like she might respond with indignation, but instead she spoke softly.
“We just had lunch together. You have to trust me.”
As Eddie wondered what his character ought to make of all this, he discovered with some surprise that he genuinely cared whether she was telling the truth. He didn’t want to believe she’d been talking with Patrick all this time. He imagined her calling Patrick after she got home from Blakeman’s party that night, telling him how drunk his old teacher had been, texting him the photo she was about to Teese out to the world. Eddie couldn’t say why this possibility bothered him, but it did. It made him feel like a fool, and that feeling made him angry.
“I’m supposed to trust you?” he asked. “Why on earth should I do that?”
“All we did was talk,” Melissa said. “I promise you.”
He was tempted to push her further, but for once he had the high ground. He was finally in the right. There had to be a better way to use this fact.
“I believe you,” he said. “Let’s forget it ever happened.”
Melissa didn’t seem happy with this answer, and Eddie could tell that she wanted another chance to provoke the scene he’d avoided.
SHE WAS ALREADY DRESSED to leave when Eddie got up the next morning, but she’d waited for him to wake up and catch her sneaking out.
“Where are you going so early?” he asked before he could consider his options.
“I’m headed for the library to get some work done before class.”
She obviously wanted him to object, to prove his jealousy and possessiveness. He felt obliged to offer some resistance.
“Can’t you study here?”
“It’s too distracting with your skulking around. It’s weird how you don’t do anything all day. You’re a grown man and you don’t have any job.”
Eddie could see the whole crew preparing now for a full-blown altercation, but he still meant to play his moral advantage. She was the one sneaking around on him.
Arts & Entertainments: A Novel Page 19
