Authors: Denyse Cohen
Audrey stepped back until she hit the door, glad to have something to hold her up. She felt as if the ground had just cracked open under her feet.
She wanted to beg him, she wanted to turn back time, she wanted to die, but instead she inhaled deeply and said, “I know you need to get ready for your trip. You don’t need to sleep on a couch anymore. I’ll be out of your house tomorrow.” She opened the door and marched out, flying by Matt and Tyler without a word.
“Of course, you can stay with me. It will be great.” Megan sounded incredibly excited about having a fourth person in her small two-bedroom apartment.
“Just for a few days. Until I figure out my next move,” Audrey told her on the phone while throwing her bag inside the Prius’s tiny trunk, wishing she had picked a SUV.
“Your next move? John will come to his senses before you unpack.”
“You know what? He might, he might not, but I’m not going to sit around and wait.”
“What’s with the new skeptical Audrey?”
Audrey took one last look at the living room before she closed the door, dried-eye and tired. “She’s not new, she’s just back.”
• • •
The band had left for Utah, but not a word from John. She imagined he’d been feeling what she’d started to feel — betrayed.
Kevin was the one who called from the road, but she wished he hadn’t. She planned to keep her mind completely occupied with the preparations for her show, and, thus far, it had worked, more or less. Every time her thoughts wandered, she focused on a different print to make.
“Why am I always the last one to know?” Kevin said.
“Sorry, forgot to include your email address in my newsletter’s roster.” She set the darkroom’s timer for ten minutes, and looked at the freshly developed photographs rocking slowly inside the washer, remembering what John had said about Atlantis’s demand to have Kevin off the band.
“Seriously, you’re making our lives miserable. He’s been such a sourpuss.”
“Kevin, please, I don’t want to talk about him.” Her voice shrieked around the word “him,” as if thinking of his name hurt like a pinched nerve. She grabbed a cigarette from her purse and walked out of the darkroom. Smoking made her feel nauseated, but she wanted to feel something besides what she actually did. “How’s the festival?”
“All right. Some of these bands are pretty good. Can’t wait to get back to L.A., though.”
It was hard to believe what a jerk Kevin had transformed into since becoming famous. Less than six months ago, the band would not have been hired to play in such a large event; now, he made it sound like it was beneath him.
“Los Angeles will dismiss you as quickly as you do the poor girls you trick into sleeping with you.”
“God, I’ve missed you.”
“Seriously Kevin, get a grip, will you? Who do you think you are, Mick Jagger?”
“I could be.”
“Remember your career has just started. You have one CD, a couple hits, and a drinking problem. Hardly enough for one hour of True Hollywood Stories.”
“Aw, I know now who’s the sourpuss.”
Impossible. What does it take to get through this thick head?
Her cigarette had burned down to a stub. She crushed it out and moved toward the door. “Kevin, I have to go.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll have to make do with Jennifer?”
Jennifer?
• • •
The song “Wonderful Woman” woke her the next morning. It was the ringtone she’d chosen for her dad. As a teenager, The Smiths had brought them together, as his image of old and boring had changed favorably when she’d found out he liked them.
She tapped the floor beside her blow-up mattress searching for the phone without fully opening her eyes. “Hi Dad.”
“It’s Mom. I forgot my phone in the house.”
“Hi Mom.”
“How are you, sweetie?”
“Sleepy.”
“Still?”
“What time is it?”
“It’s, uh, Pacific time … seven. Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting.”
“That’s fine, Mom. What’s up?” Audrey propped herself on her elbow to look at Megan’s bed: empty.
“We’re at the mall. Would John like a grill set?”
“Uh?” Audrey only heard “John.”
“Spatula, corn holders, aluminum storage case — ”
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
“Your father and I would like to get him something for when we get there. For the house.”
Audrey sighed heavily and stretched onto the mattress again, her hand covering her face. She’d wanted to delay telling her parents about the situation between she and John as long as possible, hoping things would have been sorted out before they came to L.A. for the show.
She swallowed hard, feeling her throat sore and dry, and said, “Mom, John and I broke up.” In all the days they had been apart, she dreaded the word “break-up.” They hadn’t broken up; he’d said “I don’t know,” nothing more. But at that moment, she couldn’t think of a simpler way to put it.
There was a silence, just long enough for Audrey’s negligible amount of disposition to wilt.
“Oh, sweetie. What happened?”
“Long story. I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I’m sorry,” Isabel whispered, then said more tenderly, “Real love never fails. Sometimes it breaks, but the mended pieces become stronger than before.”
“Or it will never be the same.”
“Shh — you’ll be all right.”
“You and Dad will have to stay in a hotel,” Audrey said, very quietly.
“Where are you staying?”
“With a friend. Her name is Megan. You’ll meet her.”
“How long has it been?”
“Almost a week.”
“Audrey,” — Isabel sounded upset. — “you have been living with a stranger for a week and haven’t even bothered to tell us.”
“She’s not a stranger, and I’ve been a little preoccupied with the show.”
“It doesn’t matter. I bet she doesn’t even know our telephone number. If something happens to you, she couldn’t contact us.”
“Mom, bad news travel fast — ”
“Apparently not.”
“Besides, she knows Matt.”
“Oh, how’s Matt?” Isabel asked cheerily.
“Peachy,” Audrey said, with feigned indignation.
“How’s work for the show?”
“Coming along.”
“And at the studio?”
“Not doing that anymore.”
“Really? What happened there?”
“Uh … .”
“Let me guess, it’s complicated.”
Audrey couldn’t help but chuckle, her mother had developed such a lightness with age, it made her want to be curled up on her mother’s lap. For sure, Isabel wasn’t the same mother she had growing up, always pushing her to do more, do better, be someone exceptional. Perhaps Isabel had given up already. Good. Or she finally realized that Audrey wasn’t her second chance to accomplish the things she never had. For a while, Audrey hoped that if she ever got pregnant she would have a boy. So there would be no risk of transferring her unfulfilled dreams to the poor soul who hadn’t even asked to be born.
• • •
Audrey wished the darkroom she’d rented was like a 24-Hour Fitness. She hoped for a key to get in at any time of day or night. She didn’t want stop working, even when her feet throbbed from the droned hours spent pulling sheets of fiber paper from developer, to fixer, to stop bath, and to the wash. Instead, she had to stop at 9:45
P.M.
to clean up and leave by ten when the front desk tech would knock on the door. She tried to talk him into letting her stay, but the poor guy must have had a life, because he’d snorted with incredulity as if she had asked him for money.
“I can lock up. No one will even know I’m here,” Audrey pleaded.
“It’s against the rules. I’ll be in trouble if Jason finds out.” He shook his head.
Jason must have been the owner. She hated Jason.
Staying with Megan had become torture, since she seemed to have made cheering Audrey up her mission in life. Megan’s perkiness grew proportionally with Audrey’s gloominess, transforming their exchanges into a rehearsal for a tragi-comic off-Broadway play.
“Hey, dude,” Megan said cheerfully, when Audrey opened the door of her room.
Megan made it impossible for Audrey to crawl under the covers of the blow-up mattress and shut the world out. She didn’t want to stay awake, her brain torturing her with thoughts of John. His absence was palpable and it hurt like an open wound. All she wanted was to float above consciousness where they were still together. She dreamt of him every night, cooking in their bungalow, or making love on the floor, or sitting on the bench in their backyard watching the sunlight being swallowed by dusk.
“Hi.” Dude?
“Where have you been all day?”
“In the darkroom.”
“Until midnight?”
“Oh, no. Ten. I drove around a bit.” When Audrey drove by an In-N-Out Burger, her stomach reminded her the last time she ate was breakfast. Instead of turning around, she drove aimlessly, zigzagging street blocks like a game of PAC-MAN, until she found another.
“Guess where we’re going tomorrow, dude?”
“To a Justin Timberlake concert?” Audrey said wryly.
“To the beach.”
“Beach?”
“Uh-huh, Malibu. Charlie is taking us surfing.”
“Oh.” Audrey had told Megan only a couple of days earlier how much she enjoyed surfing in Japan. This wasn’t a coincidence. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Oh, no.” Megan, sitting cross legged on her bed, placed her fists on her hips. “The darkroom is open only for four hours on Saturdays. You can make it up next week by working until midnight again.”
“Ten.” It dawned on Audrey she was being a little ungracious, Megan had obviously put some work into this outing by mobilizing Charlie. “Okay.”
• • •
The day was overcast and the ocean was calm, and at that time in the morning it kept the — rightly named — Surfrider beach in Malibu empty. Audrey sat on her rented surfboard rocking on the ocean — a baby cradled in maternal arms. She was, supposedly, waiting for a good wave, but had missed several in the thirty minutes she’d been there. She imagined herself as a beach marker buoy, dividing the shore from the dangerous depths of the unknown. She looked out to where the ocean met the sky, smooth and heavy as a piece of slate against an airy pale blue wall, and started to paddled toward it, hoping to go on forever until she disappeared. Salty droplets of water splashed onto her face as her arms circled around to move her forward. At a distance, she saw the ocean rising as if it had been just awaken from sleep. A wave formed like a crease in a wool blanket. As a surge of adrenaline pumped through her body, she forgot her intentions to vanish between water and air and turned her board around. She paddled, looking over her shoulder, studying the wave to discover where exactly it would burst into the ticklish flakes that would take her back to shore. To reality. Then she strengthened her grip, stiffened her spine and, in a quick motion, curled her legs onto the board. When she found her center of gravity, she opened her hands and carefully balanced herself up. Riding the wave as if it was a wild stallion ready to throw her off, all of her sadness disappeared under the sounds of her throbbing pulse in her ears and the sizzling of the water under her feet. She closed her eyes. The next instant, she was inside the water swimming toward the surface with the safety strap of the board tugging at her ankle.
“No, you keep it.” Edward pushed back the camera bag Audrey placed on his desk. “I’m glad it’s been put to good use again.”
“Edward, if wasn’t for you, this show wouldn’t be happening. I’ll be forever grateful.” She handed him a postcard for the opening, suspecting he wouldn’t come if she didn’t invite him in person.
“Maybe not at Ben’s gallery, but somewhere else. He should be the one thanking me.” He looked up at her and smiled. “What is it you’re going to do next?”
“Continue working. Photographing.”
“Good for you,” he said, putting the invitation on his desk and sighing deeply. “Look, Audrey, I’m very sorry for the problem I’ve caused between you and John. It’s by far one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done, but I need you to know I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know that, Edward.”
“Forgive me for saying, but that bloke is an obstinate bastard.”
“He has a lot on his mind. The issue is way deeper than the kiss, you shouldn’t worry about it.” She smiled wryly and said, “You’re off the hook.”
“When my girlfriend broke up with me out of the blue — at least I thought it was.” He nodded at Audrey with pensive eyes. “I was pretty shaken, thought I wouldn’t recover.” Then, he said with a reassuring smile, “But, eventually, you make a choice…to keep going…to be happy again. You’ll recover, give it time.”
“I don’t have a choice, Edward. I couldn’t forget him even if I wanted to.”
He took in what she’d said, clicked his tongue, and apologized again and again.
It didn’t matter anymore.
• • •
“Red light.” Audrey said from inside the darkroom as someone knocked on the door.
“Audrey, it’s me. We need to talk.” Megan said.
What is she doing here? Audrey thought. Geez, more cheering up already? Just kill me now. “Just a second.” She pulled a test print from the developer and threw it into the stop bath, then, making sure there was no paper exposed, turned on the light and opened the door.
Megan, walking into the ten-by-ten room, glanced at the stained sink, the rack of prints on the corner, the trays of chemicals along a wall and said, “How can you stand this all day, in the dark?”
Audrey looked around and said, “It feels like home to me.”
“Can we go get some coffee?” Megan shriveled.
“I have tons of work — ”
“It’s important.”
“Fine, but I can’t take long. There’s a coffee shop two blocks down.”
Audrey and Megan both ordered Thai lattes and sat at a table on the corner.
“Can you please just tell me what’s going on? Are you kicking me out?”
“Don’t be silly.” Megan rolled her eyes.
“What then?”
Megan opened her purse and pulled out a magazine from it. “I’m sorry to show you this, but I thought it might be easier coming from a friend.”
It was a copy of
OK!
with a distraught Lindsay Lohan on the cover, and on the bottom right corner, just above the barcode was John and Jennifer, sitting together at a bar: him smiling, her leaning toward him with her hand on his thigh. The caption above the picture: “North Star’s Supernova, hot guitarist hook up in Lake Tahoe.”