by Alexa Land
“I’m just glad I pulled it off.”
“You’re too modest. Then again, it’s nice to find an actor without a huge ego, so I shouldn’t complain.”
Lorenzo was making lunch when we joined him in the kitchen, and Phoenix was out on the patio, talking on the phone. As Riley and I sat down at the kitchen island, Phoenix ended his call and sent a text. Lorenzo’s phone beeped in the next instant, and he glanced at his screen. When Phoenix came back inside, Riley asked him, “Is it my imagination, or did you just text someone who was ten feet away?”
“They’re hatching a plan, and I’m not allowed to know what it is,” I said with a grin.
Lorenzo put a colorful spinach salad in front of me and tried to look innocent as he asked, “Would you like to go flying this afternoon?”
“I’d love to. Do I get to know where we’re going?”
“Ashland, Oregon. Don’t worry, it’s just over the California border, so it’s not as far as it sounds. Since we’re flying, it’ll take maybe an hour and a half each way, and I’ll have you back here in the early evening.”
“What’s in Ashland?”
“You’ll see.” I didn’t push, since it obviously meant a lot to him to surprise me.
After lunch, Phoenix dropped us off at the tiny local airport. I’d brought along the script and read over the rest of the week’s scenes while Lorenzo ran through his time-consuming preflight checks. When he was ready, I took my spot beside him, fastened my seatbelt, and put on the headphones. Then I sat back to watch him as he effortlessly guided the plane down the runway and into the air.
Once we levelled off, I murmured, “That’s still just unbelievably sexy.”
“What is?”
“You, flying this plane.” He chuckled, and I said, “I’m serious. I’d find this terrifying if anyone else was at the controls, but you do it so competently and confidently that you make me feel safe.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” I watched his profile as he had a brief conversation with someone through the headphones, and then he glanced at me and asked, “How are you feeling about the scenes you have to shoot tomorrow?”
“Great. I think doing well on set today gave me some much-needed confidence.”
“That’s terrific. So, what’s coming up?”
“The next two days are scene after scene with the four lead actors and me, and Alex doesn’t have many lines. He’s the type of person who’d feel alone in a crowd. Even when he’s with his friends, he’s most likely to just watch what they’re doing and react in subtle ways to what’s going on around him.”
“It must be challenging to play such a quiet character.”
“It can be. I worry he’ll just disappear in these group scenes, especially since the four lead actors are all so charismatic.”
“Isn’t it the director’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen?”
“You’re right, it is.” After a pause, I said. “If you want to watch me during filming tomorrow, we could definitely arrange that. I mean, you don’t have to. It’d probably be pretty boring to watch us do take after take. But if you wanted to—”
“I’d absolutely love to watch you work.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
I felt so good in that moment. The plane’s engine produced a low, steady hum, and I sat back and relaxed. Outside was nothing but wide open sky, and in the little Cessna everything was safe and solid and just how it should be.
We took a cab from the local airport into downtown Ashland. Because the day was cold and windy and we had some time to kill, we wandered into a charming bookstore and browsed through every section.
When I spotted a Dr. Seuss book called Oh the Places You’ll Go, I ran my fingertips over the cover and said, “This was my favorite book when I was little. I must have checked it out from the library ten weeks in a row, before my mom decided we should let someone else have a turn. I guess the next person lost it, because I never saw it again.”
Lorenzo was already holding an armload of books, and he grabbed that one off the shelf and said, “I’m buying this for you,” before heading to the register.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Oh yes I do,” he insisted. “You need this.”
After he made his purchase, which filled two canvas tote bags, we went upstairs to the coffee bar, and I bought us each a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie. Then we sat at the railing overlooking the ground floor, and he handed me one of the bags. I pulled out the children’s book and smiled delightedly as I leafed through the pages. I didn’t even care if it looked silly, especially compared to the thick tome Lorenzo had taken from the other bag.
“When I read this as a kid, it was the first time it really dawned on me there was a great big world outside of rural Louisiana, and that it was okay to chase your dreams,” I said. “I didn’t see a lot of that around me back then. Actually, everyone just seemed to be standing still. My parents have lived their entire lives within five miles of where they were born, and I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that because they seem perfectly content. But I knew from a very early age that what I wanted for myself was never going to be found in that small town.”
“What did you want?”
“Someplace where I didn’t stand out. By the time I read this book at six or seven years old, I’d already been called a freak, a homo, a sissy, every slur you can think of for a boy who wasn’t as masculine as people felt I should be. I didn’t just hear that from the other kids, either. It’s shocking, what some adults will actually say to children.”
He asked, “Did you hear it from your parents?”
“Not the slurs, but my dad was always telling me I needed to toughen up and stop acting like a girl. He didn’t know any better at the time. When I was about twenty-two, I finally explained why that had hurt me, and he apologized and felt just awful.”
I closed the book and traced the colorful cover as I continued, “Even before I knew what it meant to be gay, two messages came through loud and clear—I was different, and that wasn’t okay in that town. Thank God for my love of books and movies. They showed me there was more to the world and made me believe I’d find a place where I’d fit in someday. I’d hate to think what would have become of me otherwise.”
“I’m so glad you got out of that place.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” I said. “When we go for a visit in a few weeks, I’ll show you all the things I loved about it, including the secret places I’d go to be alone with my thoughts. It means a lot to me to get to share that with you.”
Lorenzo reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“We talk about my childhood a lot, but we never really talk about yours,” I said. “What was it like?”
“It was actually pretty happy. You know both my parents had emigrated from Mexico, and they thought they were living the dream. We were poor, but so was everyone in our neighborhood, so we didn’t really feel like we were missing out on anything.”
He took a sip of hot chocolate and continued, “For me personally, it was all about pushing myself to succeed at everything. It wasn’t enough to get good grades, I needed straight A’s. I also had to excel in sports, be popular, and make my parents proud. I was the oldest of three and was always told I needed to set a good example for my brothers, so that’s what I did. Deep down, I knew I was different because I was attracted to boys in the same way I was attracted to girls. But as long as I ignored that part of me, I could fit in and pretend I was just like everyone else.”
“It sounds like you were under a lot of pressure.”
“I was, but I put most of it on myself. My parents wanted to see me succeed, but they didn’t push me. I just had this drive to do more and be more, because I never felt like I was enough.”
I asked, “Do you still feel like that?”
“All the time.”
“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, be
cause you’re a truly amazing, wonderful person, Lorie.”
He squeezed my hand and said, “You have such a high opinion of me, but I’m far from perfect. In fact, I’ve done some truly stupid things in my life.”
“Like when you posed nude in some pretty sleazy adult magazines to help pay for college? That just makes me happy.”
He grinned and asked, “Why would that make you happy?”
“Because it means you haven’t always been a total saint. God knows I haven’t, either. It’s not the same as the things I’ve done, obviously, but it helps to know there’s at least a tiny bit of tarnish on your halo.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of tarnish, believe me,” he said. “Also, I only mentioned my so-called modeling career once, when we first met. I’d hoped you’d forgotten about it.”
“No chance. I’d love to see those photos, by the way.”
“Luckily, all those magazines are long gone. If they weren’t, you’d be totally repulsed by my mullet and thick, Magnum P.I. mustache.”
My eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“But this was only about twenty years ago, not 1980. What were you doing with a mullet?”
“Being a huge dork, that’s what.” I started laughing, and he said, “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” When I nodded, he grinned and said, “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“It’s so awesome.” I was still chuckling.
“Finish your cocoa,” he said. “It’s almost time for your surprise.”
“Okay fine, but I know you’re just trying to distract me from the mullet-mustache combo.”
“You’re right, I am. We still have almost an hour until our appointment. I would like to check out a few more shops, though.”
I drained my cup, then packed up the book as I said, “The only thing I know about Ashland is that it’s a theater town. I’d assume our visit had something to do with that, but I’m pretty sure it’s off-season right now and most of the venues are closed.”
“It is, and we should definitely return when the theaters are up and running. But that has nothing to do with why we’re here.”
When we got up to leave, I put the straps of one of the canvas bags over my shoulder and said, “I’ll help you carry your books.”
“Thanks. Those are actually yours, by the way.”
“They are?”
He nodded and put our dishes in a bussing tray as we headed for the exit. “They’re some of my favorite novels. I thought you might enjoy them, so I bought you copies.”
I stopped him with a hand on his arm and gave him a kiss before saying, “Thank you. That’s amazing.” He seemed happy as he took my hand and led me back outside.
We shopped for a while and bought some treats for Phoenix and Riley, and then Lorenzo stopped in front of what looked like an English pub. He took my bookbag from me and said, “Your appointment is right through this door. Look for a woman with red hair at the bar. Her name is Candace Day, and she’s going to be introducing you to her uncle, Avery Bowen.”
“Should I know who that is?”
“He wrote a book a few years back, under the pen name A.L. Sen.”
My heart leapt as I blurted, “I’m meeting the author of Alex and After?” Lorenzo smiled at me and nodded, and I stammered, “I can’t believe it! He hasn’t done an interview in at least two decades, and people say he’s a total hermit! How’d you even find him?”
“I asked Phoenix for help, and he came through. He has a lot of connections in Hollywood and was able to get the number for Bowen’s niece. She’s a lawyer and acts as her uncle’s representative. In fact, she negotiated the movie deal on his behalf. I called and told her who you are, and she thought her uncle would enjoy meeting the actor playing Alex. We were having a hard time finding a day to do this, but then this afternoon happened to open up for both you and Mr. Bowen, so here we are.”
I threw my arms around him and whispered, “Thank you, Lorie. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
He held me for a long moment, and then he stepped back and said, “Go have fun, and take all the time you need. I’m going to get a coffee and read one of my new books at that little bakery over here.” He gestured over his shoulder.
“You’re not coming with me to meet him?”
“No. I want you to have as much uninterrupted time with him as he’s willing to give you.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon, then.”
I took a deep breath and opened the door, which revealed a steep staircase. When I reached the top, I paused to look around. The walls were dark and cluttered with paraphernalia, and most of the tables were empty, which wasn’t surprising for four p.m. on a weekday.
A redhaired woman of about forty was watching me curiously from the bar, and I approached her and asked, “Ms. Day? I’m Will Kandinsky.”
She got up and delivered a firm handshake. “Candace, please. Thanks for coming all this way on short notice.”
“It’s such an honor that he even agreed to meet with me. I read your uncle’s book for the first time when I was seventeen, and I’ve probably read it twenty times since then.”
“That’s nice to hear. The movie was my idea, and my uncle hasn’t exactly been thrilled about the whole thing. He can be very stubborn. He’s also extremely blunt, so if he says anything to offend you, please don’t take it personally.”
I grinned and told her, “I’ve worked in Hollywood for ten years, so I’m used to blunt people. No worries there.”
“Okay. In that case, he’s right over there, sitting on the couch by the fireplace. Follow me, and I’ll introduce you.”
Avery Bowen was older than I’d expected. He was probably close to seventy with thick, white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a square jaw that was set in a hard line. He was dressed in a pink button-down shirt, khakis, and loafers, and there was a sweater tied around his shoulders, which reminded me of how people with money dressed in the 1980s.
When we approached, he set aside his newspaper, and his niece said, “Uncle Avery, this is the actor I was telling you about. His name is Will Kandinsky. He flew up from the movie set this afternoon, just to meet you.”
I stuck my hand out and said, “It’s such an honor, sir. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”
Bowen stood up and stared at me, totally ignoring my outstretched hand. When it became clear he had no intention of shaking it, I stuck it in my pocket. He was easily six-three with broad shoulders, and his size was intimidating. When he moved his reading glasses to the top of his head, I noticed a large, faded scar on the back of his hand. That rang a bell for some reason, and I tried to remember if he’d mentioned it in one of the few interviews he’d done when the book was first released.
Finally, he turned to Candace and asked, “Who’d you say he was playing in the film?”
“He’s playing Alex,” she said.
Avery Bowen startled me when he bellowed, “Oh, come on! It was bad enough when they cast that talentless pretty boy Trent Chambers in the role. At least he looked the part. But this asshole doesn’t look a thing like Alex! He’s too old, for one thing. Plus, who the hell’s even heard of Bill Kasinski? Not me. Have you heard of him, Candace?” It felt exactly like getting punched in the gut.
“Well, no. But—”
He cut her off. “At least that Chambers kid was handsome, famous, and closer to the right age. What the fuck was the studio thinking?” He turned on his niece and said, “Actually, what the hell was I thinking? I never should have agreed to make this picture, but you talked me into it!”
Her expression became stony. “Yes, I did. And do you remember why?” He just scowled at her, so she answered her own question. “It’s because you pissed away all your money, and you needed the income!”
“Well, now they’re about to ruin the only thing I ever did that mattered, so thanks a fucking lot!”
Everyone in the bar stared after him as he storme
d out, and Candace turned to me and said, “I’m so sorry. Even though he can be a real pain in the ass, I really didn’t expect him to react like that.”
“It’s not your fault.” Suddenly, something clicked into place for me with his scar and a single line from the book, and I whispered, “He’s Liam.” She looked startled, and I said, “The story’s autobiographical, isn’t it? No wonder this was so upsetting for him.”
Candace was clearly rattled, and she just stared at me for a few moments. Finally, she took a step backwards and said, “I need to go after him because I’m his ride. Again, I’m really sorry.”
“Okay, but please do me one favor. Just tell him I know what Alex meant to him, and I promise to do him justice.”
She nodded, and then she turned and fled.
After she was gone, I took a seat on the sofa and exhaled slowly. A few moments later, a worried-looking cocktail waitress approached me and asked, “Can I get you something?”
“Yes please. I’d like whatever has the most vodka in it.”
“So like, a vodka and cranberry?”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
I stared into the lit fireplace until she returned, then drastically over-tipped her when I paid for my drink, as if that might somehow lessen the awkwardness Bowen had left in his wake.
After a few minutes, I sent a text to Lorenzo asking him to join me. When he arrived, he asked, “Didn’t Bowen show up?”
“He did, but he only stayed long enough to tell me how wrong I am for the part. Apparently I’m too old, not good-looking enough, and not nearly famous enough to play Alex.”
He dropped onto the couch beside me and murmured, “Oh shit. Are you okay?”
“Well, that definitely wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I’ll be fine.” I raised my drink to toast him, then downed what was left of it.
“I feel awful. This was supposed to be a positive thing, but it totally backfired.”
“It was still a kind, wonderful gesture on your part,” I told him. “You had no way of knowing what would happen.”
“This isn’t okay,” Lorenzo said, as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his flannel overshirt. “I’m going to call Bowen’s niece and demand an apology from him.”
