This Is 35

by Stacey Wiedower

  Greg's voice grew hushed, and Erin tried to tune back in to what was happening on the stage around them. Beside her, Ben squeezed her fingers, and in the gesture she felt forgiveness. She squeezed him back.

  In the next instant balloons and confetti were falling from the ceiling and season four was over. While the cameras still rolled, audience members rushed the stage, and Eric Armistead, in particular, was engulfed in jump-up-and-down hugs. When the crowd parted, one person remained with Eric at the heart of the circle—not his partner as Erin might have expected, but his mom. The tiny woman, with salt-and-pepper hair, a salt-of-the-earth demeanor, and the wrong shade of purpley-red lipstick, held his fingers with a death grip as if he was her lifeboat in a sea of piranhas. Which essentially he was. The media would descend like scary fish with razor-sharp teeth as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. Tomorrow morning they'd be on TODAY or Good Morning America or The View or all of the above, facing too personal, falsely intimate questions and getting carved up by commentators on the right and served on a platter by supporters on the left.

  And Erin figured she'd be there, too, answering questions about Leo and about Ben and her marriage and her plans now that the show was over. The national TV audience would know the answers at the same instant she did because there was no way she could process all that had happened and answer these questions for herself in twelve hours.

  She'd have to go with her gut, which was fine by her. It had taken her this far. Once again, it had brought her to Ben.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Decisions

  March 20, one day later

  Erin woke the next morning wondering where she was. Absolutely no light was coming into the room even though the alarm on her cell was beeping, and she blinked a couple times and tried to clear the cobwebs from her sleepy brain. Beside her, Ben stirred in his sleep.

  "Uggghhrff," he mumbled, rolling away from her.

  And then the pictures started flooding her memory, and she recalled this bed and how she'd gotten here. For a split second she was warm all over, thinking of the way she and Ben had stumbled into this hotel room and barely made it to the mattress before he'd pushed up her dress with a need that rivaled that day in Venice, the day they'd escaped Leo and found themselves finally alone in one of the most romantic cities in the world.

  They'd definitely made up. Multiple times.

  She reached to turn off the alarm and warred with the desire to wake him by crawling onto his body and making up with him all over again, but the fact of the matter was that today the cameras weren't going to leave them alone. In fact, they had to be out of this hotel room and into a cab in forty-five minutes if they were going to make their Good Morning America call time. She had a while for TODAY since her interview with Kathie Lee and Hoda didn't air till after ten.

  For GMA she and Ben were going on alongside Eric and his mother, Lucas and Amber, and Carsyn Caro, who hadn't gotten much airtime on the finale but was still a fan favorite. America loved an underdog.

  For Kathie Lee and Hoda, who'd had her on their show four times now, Erin was going on alone. Ben was only doing the one interview this morning, a fact she knew brought him great relief. He was flying home six hours ahead of her to deal with a crisis in the lab. When he'd told her the evening before, she'd stifled a sigh. Some things hadn't changed.

  She rolled reluctantly off the bed and trudged to the bathroom, thinking nobody on God's green earth should have to get out of bed before sunrise. She didn't see how farmers or nurses or TV news anchors did it every day. She showered quickly and emerged with a towel still on her head to wake Ben. And then it was off to the races.

  * * *

  They'd almost made it through the whole segment before it happened. Eric's mom had cried while she talked about her unconditional love for her son, and Erin had teared up when he'd talked about how he wanted to use his charity money and exposure to help prevent bullying and hate crimes in public schools.

  Carsyn had answered questions about her child birthing adventure, and Lucas and Amber had repeated the story they'd told the night before, adding more details like how he'd set up an email address for her so they could keep in touch after he left the farm, how she'd snuck into the library to use the public computers during her family's weekly trips to town, and how they'd hatched a plan for him to come for her in the middle of the night.

  It was covert and exciting. Surely nobody cared about Erin's boring story after all that?

  But near the end of the interview, the reporter gestured to an image on the huge monitor behind them. It was a screen shot of an online exposé featuring a grainy, blown-up photo of Ben with a knockout blonde in his arms. He was cradling her to his chest, and his head was bent close to hers as if he was whispering in her ear or leaning down to kiss her. Erin guessed he was actually checking for breath—it had to have been taken the night he'd carried Melody down from the lab after she'd OD'd. That was right around the time the paparazzi had descended.

  Before she could compose herself, Erin's mouth fell open. Beside her, Ben wore the same expression. They exchanged a shocked glance.

  "Overnight this was posted on Celeb Stalker," the reporter said, and Erin felt like jumping to her feet and shoving the perky, overcaffeinated woman off her stool. How could they explain this? Erin knew her typical blunt, candid approach wouldn't serve her here, not with Ben being the one to face the consequences.

  "What everybody's asking"—the screen morphed to giant pull quotes from social media accounts, the top one of which read, Now we know why Ben was always "at work."—"is who is this woman, and was Ben actually having an affair while you were away shooting the show?" She took advantage of their speechlessness to glance from Erin to Ben and back again. "And if that was the case, was your affair with your cameraman retaliation?"

  Ohmigod, it's never-ending. Erin exchanged another glance with Ben, not wanting to say anything that would hurt Melody or Ben at work, but also not wanting to launch herself and Ben right back into another scandal.

  "First of all, I wasn't having an affair with my cameraman. It was just a dance lesson, and I was mad the whole time that Leo forced me to let him fill in for Ben instead of rescheduling the class," Erin said, stalling as she tried to think of an answer for the first question.

  "I haven't seen this photo," she added slowly, looking the reporter directly in the eye. "But I know who this is, and it's not what it looks like. Ben was helping a friend."

  An amused expression crossed the woman's face. "Oh…kay," she said, clearly not buying it. She turned her gaze on Ben. "Can you explain how helping a friend required holding her in what is clearly an intimate position?"

  Ben closed his eyes for a prolonged moment. When he opened them again, he said, "Yes, I can. But I'm not going to. Think whatever you'd like."

  Inside, Erin's monologue went from a constant stream of I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for putting Ben—hell, for putting Melody, even—in this position to Good answer, good answer, good answer.

  Taking a cue from Ben, Erin added, "We're in the spotlight, and that's understandable because of the show. But the friend in the photograph is not, and her story isn't ours to tell, even if it means people continue to think Ben is cheating on me or I'm cheating on him." She paused. "The fact is, I love my husband more than anyone, or anything, or any of this." Erin gestured around herself at the lights, the set, her fellow cast members. "Sorry," she said, meeting each of their eyes with chagrin. Eric was nodding emphatically, and so were his mom and Carsyn. Lucas barely seemed to notice what was going on now that the cameras weren't focused on him.

  "And I love my wife," added Ben. "And I'm very proud of her."

  The reporter looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes. Her expression said I've heard all types of BS. Yours is no different.

  She put on a bright, phony TV smile and panned her gaze over the row of interviewees. "Thanks so much for joining us on the show this morning," she said sweetly, as if she hadn't just gone al
l Hard Copy on Erin and Ben. "Best of luck to each of you, and congratulations on a successful YOLO season."

  "Thank you," the guests mumbled collectively.

  When the cameras stopped rolling, Erin made a vow. She'd stay away from social media for at least the next week. No peeking at tabloids, either. She didn't need to know the verdict passed down by a jury of gawking strangers. She knew the truth, and that was enough.

  Enough for the rest of her life, in fact.

  At that moment—with the heat of the studio lights still blaring down on them, with production people buzzing around removing their mics, with excited murmurings and discussions of who was going on which shows next, with Carsyn pulling Erin aside to say, "Can you believe she asked you about that picture?"—Erin found clarity. It was as if none of this was happening. She could as easily have been sitting in yoga mudra on a pristine, empty beach.

  If she answered Carsyn, she didn't hear her own words. She floated off the stage, grasping Ben's hand. His warm, strong fingers were the only real thing about this morning. The only real thing in her world.

  She made several decisions all at once.

  * * *

  Just after ten that night, Erin finally dragged her roller bag over the lip of the back steps, pulling the door shut behind her with a creak and a thud. "Hello?"

  She hadn't thought Ben would be home since he'd missed work the last two days thanks to the show. But his car was in the driveway.

  His footsteps sounded from the back of the house. A few seconds later he was in the kitchen, clearly having just taken a shower. He was barefoot and wearing athletic shorts, his hair tousled and wet. She dropped the handle of her bag and reached up to tug her favorite damp curl before wrapping her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his chest.

  Ben pressed his lips into the top of her head.

  "How was the rest of your day?"

  "Ugh, awful." Suddenly every bone in Erin's body made its presence known in a dull, overall ache. She felt like she could sleep for three days straight.

  The interview with Kathie Lee and Hoda had been stressful given the sudden appearance of "the photo" which had gone viral. Erin had lived up to her vow to herself and hadn't looked at the headlines. But she couldn't say the same for her family and friends. She'd been texting and talking all day, fielding questions from her mom, Sherri, Hilary, Dave, Angie, Viola, even Nate who'd recognized Melody in the picture and called Erin instead of Ben.

  She'd always liked going on TODAY, but that was because she usually did fun, upbeat interviews about YOLO and bucket lists and the importance of living intentionally and following your heart. Today she'd been on the defensive the entire time, fielding questions about Leo and the dance class and that damn picture, which Erin had to admit made Ben look even guiltier than the dance class shoot had made her look.

  To the unschooled outsider, Erin's marriage was in shambles. Trying to convince people otherwise without exposing Melody and her problems on national television just wasn't possible. She'd stuck to her story from the first interview, deflected questions about the identity of the woman in the photo, and then deftly turned the subject to the YOLO season, making Kathie Lee laugh—she'd dealt with her own scandals in the marriage realm, so she clearly got it. Both good-natured and pleasant interviewers, Kathie Lee and Hoda had seemed happy to get the dish from Erin about the contestants and the show. It could have been much, much worse.

  But it was still exhausting.

  And Erin still had a major hurdle to clear tonight. "Um, hon?"

  "Yeah?" Ben murmured into her hair.

  She pulled back and ran a hand down his arm, linking her fingers with his and tugging him lightly toward the living room. "We need to talk about Melody."

  Erin expected pushback—a reaction of dread, at least. But Ben replied in a solemn voice, "I know."

  She kept going with the speech she'd rehearsed for the past three hours. "You can't keep working with her in these conditions and especially in this capacity, with her as your boss. You've got to report what happened in the lab, the harassment and the overdose. And I think you also need to report the incident in Fort Myers."

  Again she expected resistance. But he said, "I know."

  Erin folded herself onto the sofa, and Ben sank down beside her.

  "Really? You're going to talk to Peter Shipp?"

  "Yes," he said. "I've been thinking about this all day, and you're right. You were right all along. I never should have let things go this far." He sighed. "I didn't want to make things even worse and distract from the work. This trial, it's so important. A little girl's life is on the line, and it could help thousands of other kids and families if the trial is successful. And Melody is good at her job, an important part of our team." He held up a hand as Erin started to protest. "I know, I know. That doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter as long as she's going to let these…feelings, or games, or whatever get in the way of doing our jobs."

  Erin was shaking her head. "That's not what I was going to say."

  "What, then?" Ben's brow furrowed.

  "I think you need to talk to Melody first, before you go to Peter. Let her know why you're reporting what happened. She needs to get help—she has to get help—and working with her to help her see that might be more effective than working against her and turning her into an enemy. Because then she might not get help at all."

  Ben stared at her in disbelief. "You want me to talk to her. You want me to be alone in a room…with her. The Nemesis."

  Erin considered the implications and slowly nodded. "I trust you. And I know that whatever she says, whatever she tries, you'll handle it." Her forehead wrinkled as pictures began forming in her mind. "But maybe, you know, schedule the meeting during work hours or something. Just to make sure she keeps her clothes on."

  Ben burst out laughing and grabbed Erin in a bear hug, pulling her onto his lap.

  "You're incredible, do you know that?" He paused for a few seconds, letting those words hang in the air. "You could have destroyed Melody today during that interview. She probably deserved it."

  Erin nuzzled her face into his neck. "I don't need to take her down," she said. "I know what it feels like to have the whole country discussing your flaws as if you're not a real, living, breathing human being. I wouldn't wish it on my worst nemesis."

  Ben laughed. He tightened his arms around Erin's body and held her against his chest for a long time. She closed her eyes and clung to him, relishing the fact that they were home and the show was behind them. Whatever people were saying about them right now, it'd blow over soon. Just as soon as the next scandal brought the next distraction.

  She was so exhausted that she was almost asleep when Ben suddenly leaned forward and stood, sweeping her off the sofa and capturing her lips with his before turning toward the back hallway.

  "Let's go make a baby."

  Her exhaustion lifted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  All or Nothing

  May 6, one month, one week to thirty-five

  Erin leaned against the steel bar that was the only thing standing between her and the mind-boggling drop to the canyon's rocky floor. She hated heights—had always hated heights—but the past few years had taught her that experience conquered fear. She'd leapt from a plane and scaled a mountainside. Grand as it was, this canyon didn't inspire fear in the pit of her stomach so much as awe.

  The sky today was a gradient blue, pale where it met the rocky peaks thanks to a line of cotton ball clouds, and growing deeper as it rose from the canyon walls. The desert sun was so bright and relentless that Erin had to squint even in sunglasses. She pulled her glasses off and hooked them over the neck of her tank top so she could take in the colors of the cliffs in their full, unmasked glory. Not the deep reddish brown she'd expected, but more a kaleidoscope of pinks, corals, coppers, even dusty purples and greens.

  Ben walked up beside her with his head in the foldout park map. "We can catch the shuttle just up there
"—he pointed over his shoulder and to the left—"and get back off at Mojave Point. And then we can choose to take the shuttle all the way down to the last viewpoint or loop back to the village."

  "I'm not ready to stop yet," she said, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the canyon to peer up at him. "Let's go all the way."

  Ben shook his head and gave her an affectionate glance. "Why'd I even ask?"

  "I'm an all or nothing girl." She shot him a lopsided smile.

  He folded the map and stuffed it into a pocket and then leaned on the railing beside her. Wordlessly Erin etched this scene into her memory, this feeling of being small in a vast world, a world where it didn't matter who you were or who knew your name or what you did to get by. Being here with Ben, removed from all of it, their struggles from the past year floated like a leaf twirling and spinning and drifting away from them, down to the riverbed far, far below.

  Several weeks had passed since the YOLO finale, weeks during which she'd traveled back to L.A. for a post-series debrief and wrap-up, where she'd confronted Leo about his manipulation and Jarvis about his "creative" camera work. Jarvis was thrilled at how Erin had gotten the whole country talking thanks to her hijack of Greg's interview. He couldn't understand Erin's irritation at the whole situation and thought she should be ecstatic, too. After all, the whole country was talking not just about YOLO but about her, too.

  "This could propel you," he said. "Not that we want to lose you, but I'm just saying."

  Erin laughed, knowing it was useless to explain how little that mattered to her.

  She wasn't cut out for reality TV stardom. That was one thing she knew for certain. She'd rather leave the role of shark bait to the fish.

  As for Leo, he apologized for the parking lot incident but only, he said, because it hadn't worked. He told her, "I wasn't faking the way I feel about you," making the skin crawl on the back of her neck. She took a step backward as he added, "Ben is a lucky man. Make sure he recognizes that. And keep my number in case you ever get tired of waiting on him to show up."