The One Thing

by Briana Gaitan

  A guy from behind her hands us our coffee. I graciously take it and look at Quinn. With my eyes, I tell her, See this is why I don’t shop at chain stores. Next time, we go to my favorite stores.

  At least there, no one fawns over me.

  “Thanks for the joe,” I sing song out to her, raising my cup. As soon as we turn around, I scoff to Quinn.

  “You better believe I love this baby. I wouldn’t shop at Target for anyone else.” I rub her stomach, and Quinn grabs a cart.

  “Hey, I love shopping at Target. You used to love it as well.”

  “That was high school, and I loved any place that wasn’t home.”

  Quinn gives me a wink. “Sure, whatever. So, how was your trip to Nashville? Get the part?”

  It’s embarrassing to explain what really happened so I skimp on details.

  “I wasn’t a right fit.”

  “Did you go visit your parents?”

  “No.”

  “Did you drink?”

  I stop dead in my tracks. “What is this, an inquisition?”

  “Just curious…”

  I don’t want to worry her. Shrugging my shoulders, I answer. “Nope.”

  She grabs my hand. “I’m so proud of you! Did you do anything interesting?”

  I’m itching to tell her about Caspian, but I don’t want to make a big deal over a guy who so obviously just wants to be my friend. When we get inside the store, I pull her close and hook my arm in hers. Screw it. I have to tell somebody.

  “I did meet…someone.”

  Her eyes widen. “Yes! It’s about time. Tell me everything.”

  “It’s not like that. Sure he’s kind of oddly cute if one can overlook smoking and grunginess, but there was something sort of…sweet about him.”

  “Oh my God, you’re killing me here. What is he like? Name? How did you meet? Anyone is better than that scumbag, Barrett.” Quinn squeals and grabs me by the shoulders.

  “Calm it, woman. What is wrong with you?”

  “I’m nine months pregnant, horny, and Chase won’t have sex with me anymore. He’s afraid it will hurt the baby.”

  “TMI!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Anyway, his name is Caspian. He’s in a band called Aly.”

  “A band, are they famous too? Are they on tour? Tell me please!”

  “What the hell, Quinn? You really are getting all stir crazy at home aren’t you?”

  “I’m so bored. Entertain me with your fascinating love life.”

  I suppose I can entertain the bored housewife. We walk through the baby aisle picking up random stuff like diapers.

  “I don’t think he’s famous, they were playing at this old bar in Nashville. He’s on tour right now. Let’s see, he’s older than me. Twenty-seven to be exact. His voice is so beautiful, Quinn. You should hear it. He has this make you melt in your mouth range when he sings. And the way he talks, it’s always…I can’t explain it. It’s like he enunciates everything and says only what he wants. He’s real, genuine, and his eyes are this beautiful clear blue. His hair is this dirty blond. Well, it looks dark brown but when the sun hits it, it looks lighter and—”

  “Oh my God. You like him!” Quinn cries out. “I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like this.”

  “I don’t like him. It is possible to think someone is cute without having romantic feelings for him. You asked about him. I told you.” I hide my excitement by turning around and putting a few bottles of baby lotion in the cart. Maybe I did get a bit carried away when talking about him. I can’t help it. He excites me.

  “His eyes are this clear blue….he’s real….his voice makes me melt…” Quinn cups her hands to her face and gives her best dramatic Ginger impression.

  “Shut up!” I elbow her gently and pretend to be engrossed in baby wipes.

  “Oh Ginger. I wish you would just give up on Barrett and find someone who isn’t such a scum bag.”

  “Barrett and I are over! Why won’t anyone believe me? I’m not getting back together with him, it’s different this time.”

  She raises an eyebrow and puts her hands on her hips. She doesn’t believe me, and in a way, I don’t believe myself either. We’ve broken up plenty of times in the past. What makes this time so different? Me, that’s what. I need to stop taking the easy way out. I need to take some risks, and stop living in safety.

  “Don’t push this guy away, he could be the one. The one you keep talking about.”

  She’s right. I’ve been waiting for my “one” for years. The one that will change for me. The one that will treat me the way I see Chase treats Quinn. The way a woman is supposed to be treated. I put up with a lot of shit from Barrett, with nothing in return. It’s time I stop living on the sidelines, but my “one” isn’t Caspian. He’s just a guy I enjoying hanging around.

  I pull out my phone to see an email waiting from Caspian

  Deena,

  Just going out on a limb here, but since you were drinking the other night…not your baby right?

  -Cas

  I snicker silently and start a reply.

  Cas,

  Nope, my cousin’s baby. Just out of curiosity, where is your next show? I have some time off and would love to see you again.

  Deena

  I may have a lot of time off, if I don’t get more work soon. Quinn peeks over my shoulder. “Okay. First off, who is Deena? Secondly, what are you planning on doing?”

  I give her a pinched look. “Really? Deena is my real name. Don’t you remember?”

  “Oh come on, no one’s ever called you Deena. Can’t blame me for forgetting.”

  “I don’t want to be “Ginger, Hollywood actress” with him. I want to be me.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but what are you gonna do about Barrett?”

  “I don’t know. Technically, it’s over, so I’m not doing anything wrong. Is it too soon for me to move on?” My head drops and I turn to set it on Quinn’s shoulder.

  “It will be okay, Ginger. It’s not too soon. You guys didn’t have a healthy relationship to begin with. It makes sense that you would seek out a guy who would treat you good.”

  Someone suddenly butts in on our special moment. “Ginger Teague, tell us about the situation with Barrett.”

  I groan and turn around to see a man with a cell phone up recording me. He’s older with a creepy video voyeur type feel.

  “Get a job,” I spit out at him. Quinn grabs the shopping cart and tugs on my arm as we walk away.

  He continues to harass me by following us down the aisle. “Did you read the reports? They say Barrett got into a fight over another girl.”

  “I don’t read that crap.” I just can’t seem to keep my mouth shut today.

  “Just ignore him,” Quinn hisses in my ear.

  “How about a date, Ginger?”

  “Fuck off.” I turn to glare at him while giving him the finger. What a jerk.

  We make it toward the checkout while the guy keeps pestering me with questions. As we begin to place the cart full of baby items on the belt, his questions become cruel.

  “Your show is shit, Ginger. The only reason people like you is because you have fake boobs and you wear too much makeup, but now that I get an up close look at you, I can see how ugly you really are. No wonder Barrett cheats on you.”

  I shouldn’t care what he thinks, and he’s saying it just to get a rise out of me. I know I’m pretty, but I’m not looking my best today. Thankfully, Quinn is the one to whip around and get in his face.

  “Can someone please get this creep away from us?”

  The cashier is already on her phone and a few moments later, a manager appears.

  “Sir, I need to ask you to stop harassing the customers and leave the premises immediately.”

  “Whatever,” the creepy guy mumbles, but not before reaching out to cop a feel of my breasts.

  I stand there in shock trying to register what just happened before smacking him across the face. “Wh
at the hell?” I yell out, jumping back and covering my chest with my arms.

  “I wanted to know if they’re real!” he says before running out.

  “Of course they aren’t real!” I yell back. “The whole world knows I had a boob job. Hello?”

  The manager chases after him. My right breast is throbbing. Did I just get felt up by some stalker weirdo?

  Quinn tries to hide a smile.

  “It’s not funny. That guy just molested me.”

  “Hey! I’m not laughing. I’m smiling because you just sissy slapped the crap out of him. I’m proud of you.”

  “I should have punched him, but I didn’t want to break a nail.”

  “That was still classic.”

  “I’m pissed. Let’s get out of here.” I swipe my credit card through the reader. I don’t have to look to know that all the customers are staring at us. I can feel their eyes on me, judging me. “My treat, Quinn.”

  The manager appears again and begins putting all the bags in the cart.

  “Miss Teague, I wasn’t able to catch him. I’m sorry.” He totals out our purchase, but not before telling us the police are on their way.

  A police report will mean tabloids and more stories, which happens all the time. Well minus the molesting part, but the heckling is regular. I don’t want to be in the papers any more than I have to. I don’t want to stress Quinn out either. I thank the manager for his assistance, and before he can stop us, I leave with Quinn on my heels. She chases me out to the car. Actually, she hobbles.

  “Ginger. Wait! Are you okay?”

  I can feel a migraine beginning to pound in my head. I can’t deal with this. How could someone talk to me that way? What did I ever do to him? As soon as I’m in the car, I cover my face with my hands and take a few deep breaths. I could really go for a drink right now. It could calm me or at least make everything a little funnier.

  I hear the car door open, and Quinn climb in. She puts her hand on my back and pulls me close.

  “That guy was a dick. You need to go back in there and press charges.”

  “I can’t!” I sit up suddenly, making Quinn shoot back in to her seat. “If I do that, people will talk even more. I wish I could have one week where I’m not on the cover of one of those magazines.”

  “Give it up then, Ginger. Do something else with your life. You’re not happy. Go back to college. Move away from LA or something.”

  Giving up on my dream has never been an option, but I didn’t realize all I was signing up for when I moved here. Before, being famous looked fun. People want to look like me and dress like me. Then there are the jealous ones who hate me. I look into the rearview mirror and try to fix my smeared makeup.

  “Ginger, you need to press charges. No man has a right to touch you without your permission.”

  She’s right, but I can’t face going back in there.

  “Will you go in there and speak to them? I can’t face all those people staring right now.”

  She runs her hands down her face and shakes her head. I know it’s because she wants me to be stronger. I can’t. I’m not her, and I never will be. I’m not a good person like she is.

  “Do you think I deserve everything I get?” I ask her.

  “What? No. Don’t think like that. I’ll go speak with the manager. You wait here, and we’ll get this all straightened out.”

  “Thank you.”

  I shake my head in hopes that this is a dream or possibly, I misheard. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

  “Miss. Teague this isn’t normal, but there are risks when you invest in non-FDIC insured products,” Mariah tells me.

  Nope, nothing’s changed. Still here.

  “Wait, wait,” I say. I scoot up to the edge of my seat and grip the armrests tightly. I came here to discuss opening new accounts and preventing fraud on my account, and instead, I find out my investment advisors are shit. After my fiasco at the store a few days go, this is just the cherry to top it all off.

  “Miss. Teague, I know this must come as a shock.”

  “A shock? A shock? Believe me, that’s an understatement. How did it happen?” I try and hide the venom in my voice, it isn’t Mariah’s fault that my stocks had plummeted. I don’t even know what they were invested in or how much was invested. I only knew that all of my savings were in those accounts. I hadn’t thought twice about it because I didn’t think I could really lose money. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why didn’t I pay more attention to what was going on? I spent the money, but other than that, I have no idea what’s going on.

  “Investments are always a gamble. I suggest we keep the rest of your money in CDs for the time being. It’s a safer bet, but with a lower return.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  “The market just isn’t what it used to be.”

  I can’t do this. I’m about to lose my cool. “I gotta go.” I grab my purse and walk out the door. By the time I get into my car, tears are streaming down my face. I don’t want to bother Quinn with my issues, but I need someone to talk to. Anyone, but only Caspian crosses my mind, and I can’t see him. There’s only one way to relieve the pressure building inside of me. I need a drink.

  A few hours later, I find myself alone with a bottle of wine and an empty stomach. Caspian still hasn’t emailed back, so I sit on my back patio staring down the mountainside at the bright lights of the city. It’s been days, but his end has been eerily silent. Did I read too much into our emails? I pick up the magazine from the table and feel the anger start to bubble inside. On the front page of Hollywood Weekly is a picture of me from a year ago leaving the gym. Why it has anything to do with the story is beyond me. The story gives all the juicy details from the police report where the guy harassed me at the store. When will I learn to stop reading this stuff?

  “Ginger?”

  I almost spit out my wine as Barrett opens my back door and steps out onto my patio.

  He stands there, with his long hair slicked back against his head, his hands stuck in the back pockets of his jeans.

  “How the hell did you get in here?” I almost throw my wine at him, but that would be a huge waste of wine. Instead, I give him an evil eye.

  A silver key dangles from his hand. “I still have your key.”

  “Gimme those.” I stuff the key in my pants pocket and finish off my glass.

  “I heard about what happened at the store,” he tells me. He’s acting genuine so I decide not to kick him out right away.

  “Go on…” I narrow my eyes at him and listen.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  A deep laugh erupts from my mouth, and I shake my head in amusement. “I’m fine, Barrett.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  I stop laughing and walk over to the bar. Now he cares, but he didn’t care about my feelings when he was breaking my heart. “Worried? Don’t say anymore until I have a glass of wine in my hands.” I pour myself a large glass of merlot and lift it to my lips. “Shoot.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t drinking anymore.”

  “Get over it, this is wine. People don’t become alcoholics over a glass of wine.”

  “Seriously, Ginger? Do you want a repeat of the other week? Next time you’ll do something you regret.”

  “Regret? The only thing I regret is wasting years of my life with you.” I throw my head back in laughter. “Besides, you’re not one to preach. You drink all the time.”

  “But what about the other day, when you were pouring all your alcohol out into the kitchen sink.”

  I wave my hand at him. “Whatever, I didn’t want Quinn to get all worked up, okay? You better not say anything to her or I will hurt you…like I did the other night.”

  He lifts his fingers to his eye, which has a slight yellowish leftover bruise, and grumbles incoherently.

  “I came here to see if you would join me for a party at my parents’ house tonight.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Now his story
changes. I thought he came here to check on me. I should have known better. He doesn’t care about me. He only wants me to look pretty on his arm for his family. They all like me. I’m attractive, well mannered, and adored their son. I don’t come from a rich lineage like they preferred, but somehow I feel like they’re glad he didn’t pick someone worse.

  His phone goes off, and like a moth to the light, he pulls it out of his pocket.

  “Great timing. What’s this, Ginger?” He holds out his cell to show a picture of me and Caspian holding hands, and walking to the back room of the club the night we met.

  My words stumble out of my mouth. “Are—Are you sure that’s me?”

  He nods and flips through some other photos. From the angle, it had to be someone sitting at the bar.

  “Don’t act stupid. My publicist just texted it to me. Apparently, it’s all over the internet. Who is this guy? This was taken in Nashville, just days after we broke up.”

  I raise my eyes to Barrett’s and gain the courage to tell him the truth.

  “Some guy I met in Nashville, and that’s none of your business anymore.”

  Barrett’s eyes glaze over.

  Ooh, he’s jealous. I can use this to my advantage.

  “Who the hell is he, Ginger?”

  “You don’t own me. If you want to know who he is, read the article. We all know how factual they are, right?”

  “Don’t patronize me. We’ve barely broken up, and you’re already slutting around?”

  “What do you care? You showed your dick to some stranger!”

  “I’ve already apologized for that. Aren’t you ever gonna let it go?”

  I’m practically screaming now, and my voice cracks from the pressure. “Can’t you just take responsibility for your actions? Jealous now that I’ve moved on with Cas?”

  His face tightens up, I’ve hit a nerve.

  “So his name is Cas? Sounds like a pussy. And to think— I actually felt bad for— I can’t do this!”

  He slams his hand into the wall beside me. “Don’t worry, tomorrow our separation is going to be announced. You go your way, I’ll go mine. I don’t even want to see you on set. You think I’m gonna continue to work with you. Who are they gonna choose? An actor who has been on the show for years or a newbie actress with a character everyone hates?”