by Rachel Astor
I pounded back the rest of my cappuccino—if I was going to do this I was going to have to have as much caffeine in me as possible—and went to my room to get ready.
Which was not going to be an easy task.
I settled on a dark blond wig that would be easy to style into a ponytail. I did not want a bunch of hair whipping into my face while I was hurtling down a river of waves that could potentially take my life. Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, I’m sure the instructors would be extra careful with the newbies, but still, things could happen, right?
Then was the outfit. I mean, I guess a person wore athletic equipment for rafting, but did they like, wear a bathing suit under it? I had no idea. I mean, I was going to get wet, right? And there might even be lounging time where the waterproof jacket I’d planned on would be a bit too warm. I figured I’d rather be safe than sorry and put on an athletic looking bikini before I added a sweat wicking t-shirt and shorts and the outer layer of the waterproof pants and jacket.
I was ready for anything. Well, you know, anything that required waterproofing anyway.
All I could do now was hope that the little helmets they gave you would help keep the wig firmly in place. I mean, I didn’t expect there to be a whole throng of paparazzi out on a white water rafting river or anything, but if there was one thing that was certain, you just never knew with those guys.
~~~
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed as we plunged down the river.
And that was exactly the right word too, plunged. At first, the ride had been kind of nice, like we were floating gently down a stream, getting used to how to paddle. Then all of a sudden, it was like a plunger had unclogged the drain of the river and we were sailing at a speed that could never have been considered normal.
The only solace was that Leo was screaming just as loudly as me.
Oh, and that the instructors were definitely laughing harder at him than they were at me. Leo had been right, the paparazzi had somehow pegged him to be a daredevil, and he was bound and determined to prove them right.
It’s just too bad he totally wasn’t.
And I had to say, Leo was not good at pretending. If my scream were that of a frightened lady, his was closer to that of a five-year-old girl. A very terrified, and very high pitched five-year-old girl.
I was guessing that he’d prefer that I leave that part of it out of the autobiography.
I screamed again as we rolled over what appeared to be a full-fledged waterfall, though the instructors were calling it, and I quote, “a bit of a dip.” I wanted nothing more than to scream at them to “dip this, a-hole,” but a girl must try to remain in control at all times, right?
Well, even though I was very far from in control (and wasn’t even sure if I was in control of my bladder anymore), I tried my best to look at least slightly less terrified than Leo as we hurtled away for what seemed like hours, but when we were done and my shaky legs somehow pulled me out of the boat of terror, they told us it had only been about twenty minutes. And here I thought being terrified for your life was supposed to make time go faster.
“That was fantastic,” Leo said, but I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, because there was not an ounce of sincerity or excitement in his voice.
He fell to the ground, and I couldn’t be sure, but he may have even kissed the ground.
Eventually, I helped pull him up. The instructors seemed like they were getting seriously antsy to get their equipment off us and just get the hell out of there, since, you know, we’d probably been sitting there for as long as our ride had been already. Even after that much time had passed, Leo was still visibly shaking as he tried his best to remove the gear.
“We’ll have to do that again sometime,” he said, and smiled as best as he could, waving to the guys as they dropped us back of at the start where our car was parked.
The rafting dudes didn’t even bother humoring him, just shook their heads and chuckled a little.
They knew there was no way in hell Leo would ever be back.
~~~
The next few weeks were a total blur. Skydiving was something of a ‘life flashing before my eyes’ kind of deal and bungee jumping was almost worse, if you can believe that. Something about a jagged, rocky ground with a tiny stream running through it, plunging up at you faster than you can even close your eyes, seemed a bit at odds with, you know, living.
But somehow we made it through. Leo was pretty much as terrified as a person could be, but he’d get up every morning with a renewed sense of adventure, and apparently, a renewed sense of suicidal madness in the form of zip lining and rock climbing.
The indoor surfing was actually kind of fun, probably because even though it was totally grueling and I fell about a million times, it was highly unlikely that I was going to drown in the two feet of water below me. And actually, though I hated to admit it, the skeet shooting was enormously entertaining too, especially when I started to actually get the hang of it and those little disk thingies began to explode with every shot.
It was so much more satisfying than I thought it would be.
The days went by in a blur of scarfing energy drinks and high carb food, just so we could make it through each day of fear and adrenaline. I had to get up even earlier than Leo most mornings, just to get a stupid disguise on. Sure, dressing up had been fun the first couple times, but it was really starting to weigh on me. And you could not believe how itchy the damned wigs were when you got a little sweat or water underneath them. And let me tell you, it is not easy to keep a wig in place while zinging upside down to your almost death.
Or on a zip line.
Or when you fall below the water on a spectacular wipeout during a surf lesson.
Not to mention the carnival day where Leo insisted we ride only the scariest, highest, fastest, most vomit inducing rides. For like, five hours straight.
I had sore muscles where I didn’t even know I had muscles. Bruises speckled my legs and I had an impressive scrape on my right elbow from the steep hill mountain biking Leo decided was a must try. One thing I learned—the hard way—was that elbow pads only protect your elbows if they stay where they’re meant to, not if you go careening head first with your arms out in front of you and the pads slide all the way up to your armpits.
Come to think of it, even my armpits were hurting from the impact of the hard plastic.
I’d never been on so many helicopter rides to get from destination to destination in my life. Okay, I’d never been on a helicopter ride before those days, and that was perhaps the most enjoyable part of the whole thing.
“Leo,” I said after I’d shed my gear from that day’s scuba excursion to Dorset. “Do you think we could have a day or two off so I can get some of the book down while it’s still fresh in my memory?”
He looked at me, surprised.
“Haven’t you been writing all along?”
I couldn’t help but wonder if steam was starting to seep out of my ears or not. “Let me ask you this,” I said. “Each night when you came back from doing all this… stuff. What did you do?”
He shrugged. “I was tired. I crashed.”
“Exactly. So since I was doing all the same things as you, wouldn’t it stand to reason that I might not have a whole lot of brain power left at the end of the day, not to mention every inch of my body is killing me, including my hands, which I kind of need for typing, by the way. When in the world did you think I was going to find time to write it all down?”
Leo looked at me, apparently a little surprised that I had such an attitude in me.
But seriously, give a girl a break. I. Was. Tired.
“Uh, sure,” he finally said. “I guess I could use a couple of days off too. Spend a little time in the hot tub.”
You do that, I thought bitterly. You sped two days in a hot tub soaking your sore muscles while I slave away at the computer writing your life story.
Honestly, if not for the deadline looming w
ay too close, I would have wished that the three months of working with Leo was over already.
I crashed hard that night, knowing, for once in what seemed like forever, I didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn to put on a thick layer of makeup and some ridiculous new hair. Unfortunately, my body apparently had to catch up on its sleep since, without the alarm, I slept in until two in the afternoon. Sheesh I hadn’t done that since I was a teenager.
There were only two weeks left and I had approximately five pages written on the God forsaken thing.
How in the hell was I ever going to finish?
There was only one solution. Lock myself in my room and only take breaks for food and the washroom.
I should have known not to answer my phone.
~ 15 ~
“Josie?” the voice on the other end said through stuttery sobs.
I had absolutely no idea who it was. “Yeah? Hello?”
More sobbing on the other end. “Josie, it’s Jen.”
“Oh my God, Jen. What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I came… to the UK… to see… Dave…” she said, fighting the sobs, which was very weird since Jennifer was one of the toughest people I knew.
I mean, I guess I hadn’t known my new roommate for all that long, but if you’d have told me yesterday that she would call sobbing, I would have told you all your marbles had rolled right on down the sewer drain.
“Jen, slow down,” I said. “It’s okay, just stay calm and tell me what happened.”
She took several gulps of air, taking a minute to compose herself. Finally she started, talking almost normally. “Okay,” another deep breath. “I came over here to see Dave, and there was something I wanted to tell him, you know, some big news. And well, he didn’t take it very well.”
Okay, now I was really confused. “Okay, so… what was the big news?”
Jennifer promptly started bawling all over again. “Josie, I totally screwed up. Like I really screwed up big time.”
“Come on Jen, you’re one of the most level headed people I know, it can’t be that bad.”
But I’m not even sure if she heard me, what with all the wailing and stuff.
“I’m… I’m…I’m pregnant,” she said, the last word leading into the longest, most drawn out sob of them all.
Oh. My. God. I was completely speechless. But I had to say something. “Jen, Jen, it’s okay. Just tell me where you are.”
“I don’t know, The… the Knightsbridge Hotel, I think.”
“Okay, I’m getting in a cab right now. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
She didn’t answer. Just started crying some more. I didn’t know whether I should stay there and wait until she was composed enough to say goodbye, or just hang up and get there as fast as I could.
I decided on the latter. I was no good to Jen on the phone, she needed someone with her, like yesterday.
Goddamn Dave, how on Earth could he leave her when she was that much of a disaster?
It seemed to take forever to get to her. All I could do was imagine what it must be like to be in that situation. I mean, a baby? It was almost unfathomable. How was Jen supposed to look after a baby on her own? I mean, Dave had money of course, being a successful actor—God, I began to curse the fact that it was because of Jake that he and Jen even met—so that might not be as much of an issue as it would be for some single parents, but still, Jen had a great career, would they just let her take the time off that she needed in order to raise a baby?
Cripes, a million thoughts were scrolling through my head like a newsfeed line gone haywire… I could only imagine what Jen was going through.
What a mess.
I wanted to phone Jake right then and there and tell him he couldn’t be friends with Dave anymore. I don’t care how much fun they’d had when they filmed that movie together. Dave was an asshole.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jen said when I arrived, and bowled me over in a giant, teary hug. “What would I have done in England all by myself?” she wailed.
After the hug, the first thing I did was order ice cream from room service. Everything was always better with ice cream.
When Jen calmed down a bit, I couldn’t help but ask, “How did this even happen?”
“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her arms up. “It had to have been the night of the wedding or something.”
I blinked. First of all, that was the night they met and I couldn’t help but be a little surprised that things had gotten to that point so quickly. On the other hand, Jen was a big girl and could do whatever she wanted.
She gulped another breath. “I’d just had so much to drink, and so did Dave, and well, one thing led to another and we probably weren’t as careful as we should have been…”
I nodded, thinking probably? But didn’t say anything. It was too late to do anything about it now.
“So, Dave’s not happy about it, I take it.”
Jen let out a humorless chuckle. “No, I would say he’s not. He wants me to get rid of it.”
My eyes flew open wide. “That’s what he said? Get rid of it?”
“No, not exactly. He just said it was up to me, he’d support whatever decision I made.”
“Oh, okay, well, that’s not so bad, is it?”
“I wanted him to be happy. To be ecstatic. To be… something other than indifferent.”
“Yeah,” I said, realizing I would probably expect the same thing. I mean, at least the guy could pretend to be happy, even if he was caught a bit off guard. “So he doesn’t want to help with the baby?”
She shrugged. “He said he would, but it’s not like he’s around that much. He said he didn’t want to give up his career.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” I said, shoveling the ice cream. “But he didn’t say he wanted nothing to do with the baby, right? So maybe he just needs to get used to the idea.”
Jen shook her head like I was nuts. “He just should have been… more supportive.”
“I know,” I said, going in for another hug. “But I think this is maybe what guys do. Even when they’re married and it’s all planned. They just totally freak at first. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. I mean, he wanted you to stay here, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And he’s paying for the room?”
“Yeah.” She wiped her nose. “But he didn’t want to pay for another room. I made him.”
I tried my best not to roll my eyes. “That’s probably because he wanted you to stay in the same room as him.”
“So why did he need to “go for a walk” to think things through?” She air quoted the “go for a walk” part, like she was totally pissed over it.
“Okay, so let’s just get this straight though. And totally, totally remember that I’m on your side no matter what, okay?”
She nodded.
“Okay, so… what did you do when you first suspected you might be pregnant?”
She thought for a second. “I barfed.”
I made a face. “Nice. Okay, so… was that because of morning sickness?”
She shrugged again. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t really been sick at all. Except that first day.”
“So it was probably nerves then right?”
“Maybe.”
“And, how long ago was that?”
“Like, two weeks?”
My eyes flew open again. “You’ve known about this for two weeks? Have you told anybody?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, so you’ve been mulling this over for two weeks, probably just spending a lot of time thinking and stuff.”
“Yeah, so?” I could tell she was starting to get a bit annoyed with me. I needed to get to the point.
“Well, did you go for any walks? Any long bubble baths? Just taking time alone to get used to it?”
“Of course.” She sighed at me.
“Well, since this is the very first day that Dave has even known about this, maybe he just needs
a little bit of time to get used to the idea. You know, just like you did.”
She looked into her ice cream, like it had suddenly become super interesting.
“And he did say he’d be supportive of whatever you decide, right?”
I suddenly felt really bad for thinking such bad things about him. “I mean, you probably scared the shit out of him. Honestly, wasn’t the shit scared out of you when you found out for sure?”
Her eyes welled up all over again. “Yeah…” she said, and fell into my arms all over again. I barely had time to shove my ice cream onto the table. “It’s gonna be okay, Jen. No matter what, it’s gonna be okay. Even if Dave doesn’t come around—though I really think he will—I’m here, okay? We’ll figure this all out together.”
She pulled back from the hug. “We will?”
“Of course. We just have to find a place to put the crib, that’s all. Maybe we could take the doors off the giant closet in the hall or something.”
Her eyes were still filled with tears, but something in them changed. Like maybe she had a tiny ounce of hope back in them again.
“Besides, you really don’t know what Dave is thinking. You need to give him a minute to process.”
She laid her hands down in her lap, defeated. “I just thought… God, I don’t know what I thought.”
“You hoped he would be ecstatic and make a bunch of promises right there on the spot.”
“Yeah,” she said, the tears coming again. “Is that so much to ask?”
I smiled. “No, it’s not so much to ask. But… how many women do you think hope for that?”
“Probably all of them,” she said bitterly.
“Exactly. And how many do you think actually get it?”
She thought about it for a while. A defeated smile passed her lips briefly. “I guess you’re right. I’m living in a fairy tale again, aren’t I?”
“Yes, yes you are. But I don’t know what you mean about again? You’re the least fairy tale kind of girl I know.”
