Are You Going to Kiss Me Now? (17 page)

As nobody else seemed to be around, I took this as a golden opportunity to use the bathroom…and actual toilet paper instead of leaves. I sneaked into the cabin and had just sat down on the toilet when I heard Joe’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why are you doing this?”

“Just one kiss?” I heard Eve say.

I panicked. Should I let them know I was there? Were they going to hook up? No!

“You’re drunk, Eve,” Joe said gently.

“
Qu’est-ce que je ferais sans toi?
” she cajoled.

“Where on earth is
this
coming from?”

“You’re cute,” she cooed.

“Good God, Eve, you smell like a brewery.”

“I prefer experienced men,” she giggled hideously. “Why not?”

“Let’s see,” Joe ticked off. “I’m married. You’re young enough to be my daughter. And you’re three sheets to the wind.”

“You’ll be gentle with me,
oui?
”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“You don’t like to hear me speak French?” she giggled.

“Jesus Christ, Eve.” His voice was suddenly firm.

“C’mon, Joe, you know you want to. It’s not a big deal. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Knock it off, Eve, it’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

“You’re being stupid.”

“So?”

I heard her laugh again, and then something slammed up against the bathroom door. Hard. I froze in fear.

“Get off, for Christ’s sake! What the hell is the matter with you anyway? That’s enough!”

“You pushed me!” she yelled.

“You pushed me!” Joe yelled back. “What’s wrong with you? Are you insane or something?”

“Why does everybody hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Eve. There’s more to life than who wants to sleep with you. I’m married, for God’s sake. I don’t cheat on my wife. I don’t screw young girls!”

“Well, aren’t you the virtuous one,” she sneered, her voice betraying her humiliation.

“Look, Eve, this isn’t about me. It’s about you,” he said, sounding more like the movie star he was than the glob of human disappointment he’d become in the last four days.

“Why do you sound like you’re mad if you don’t hate me?”

“Because I am mad. It’s like you want to be a bimbo and you resent not being treated that way,” Joe snorted to himself in disbelief. “You’re smart, you’re talented. Why are you wasting your life acting like a twit? Where the hell is your self-esteem?”

She didn’t say anything. At least she didn’t say anything I could hear through the bathroom door. I was getting sweaty in the small stall.

I heard Eve make a little whimpering sound. I wondered if this would be a bad time to flush.

“What do I have to do to get through that head of yours?” Joe continued. “You have everything in front of you. You’re young and beautiful and talented, Eve.”

“I don’t feel young…or talented…or beautiful.”

“That’s because you have no self-respect. You treat yourself as badly as you treat others. Talking to your manager like she’s an insect, mooning over Cisco when you know full well he’s a player, hitting on
me
,” he chuckled, “punishing all of us by running away like a spoiled little brat. Your behavior is incomprehensible. Where are your parents, for God’s sake?”

It was a good question. Other than her comment about having them skinned and turned into boots, Eve had never mentioned a mother or father. It was impossible to imagine her as somebody’s daughter.

“My parents?” she laughed stiffly. “I don’t speak to them. They’re provincial. They understand nothing.”

“I see,” Joe mumbled. “How ’bout friends? Got any of those, Eve?”

“I don’t need anyone!” she shrieked. There was something savage in Eve’s tone. She was a cultivated little monster.

“You do, Eve,” Joe said gently. “You do need people.”

“Well, excuse me. What do you know about me, Joe?”

“I know you’re unhappy. I know if we ever get out of here I’m telling my daughter she has to wait until she finishes high school before making movies. I don’t want this for my daughter.”

“Yes, God forbid your precious daughter turn out like me.”

“I don’t want her growing up under a microscope like you. When I got my first job, I was well into my twenties. I was an adult playing a kid. The studios protected kids back then. At least they tried. It’s different today. It’s no way to grow up. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you, Eve.”

I was loving Joe. He was much better as a parental figure than a decaying action hero.

“Thanks, Joe. That really means a lot,” she said sarcastically.

“You know something else, Eve?” he sighed. “That attitude of yours isn’t doing you any favors. Look at yourself. You’ve squandered your youth on a filthy old vampire. Do you feel empowered? Does the knowledge that Peter McArthy wanted you once make you feel less lonely? Does it?”

Silence.

“Old men should be with old women,” he finished. Despite myself, I almost started to clap. Take that, Dad!

“What’s age got to do with it?” Eve asked. “We had a profound connection. I’ve never even been with anyone else. You could never understand.”

“What I understand is that his behavior was not only inappropriate, it was illegal.”

“Oh, please,” she moaned. “You’re as unsophisticated as my father.”

Joe let out a loud guffaw.

“You think what you had with Peter McArthy was sophisticated?” he asked.

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand that not only did he cheat on his wife, he cheated you out of your youth. Peter McArthy sucked you dry. And the worst part is that you blame yourself. He crossed a line that he should never have even considered. It makes me sick to even think about it. You’re worth so much more than that. I’ll kill that lecherous motherfucker if we ever get out of here.”

“Screw you, Joe!” she cried, bursting into what actually sounded like real tears. “You were messing around on your wife with Jonah’s mom. You’re so much better than the rest of us?”

“That was a long time ago. And it was different. We were peers, Eve. And I never claimed to love Beverly. She knew I loved my wife. I wasn’t taking advantage of anybody.”

“Peter didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted to.”

“You were fourteen years old! Of course he took advantage. You were a child. You’re still a child. We all do regrettable things when we’re young, Eve. It’s par for the course. And it’s OK.”

“I’m not a child anymore. I feel ancient. I hate myself,” she sobbed. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be so concerned with what everybody thinks of you all the time? Do you? Do you?” I nodded to myself in the bathroom. I could relate to that, sistah.

“Yes, Eve,” Joe said. “That’s fame.”

“No, no,” she pleaded. “It’s worse. It’s so much worse than that, Joe. I notice every facial expression on peoples’ faces when they see me. People are nothing to me but mirrors. If they squint, they’re jealous. If they smile too much, I look fat. It’s like I’m going crazy. People are objects of indifference to me, Joe. All I care about is the way they respond to me. That’s all that matters. Isn’t that sick? I’m so paranoid. Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re an actor. It’s in the genes. You’ll grow out of it a bit as you get older,” Joe said. “I hope.”

“I won’t,” she cried. “I’m a horrible person. I tell you, the only person who cares about me is my agent…and she takes thirty percent.”

“I care about you,” Joe said. He sounded like he meant it too. I was getting choked up. I was also wondering if I didn’t have more in common with Eve than I thought.

“You do?” she cried.

“I do.”

“Then stop yelling at me, OK?” she laughed through her tears.

“OK,” he said sweetly.

“And don’t tell anyone I, you know, made a pass at you?”

“Never.”

“You promise?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said. I noticed I was dripping in sweat. I suddenly, desperately missed my dad. My pre-Chandra dad.

“God, I’m a loser,” Eve sighed.

“You’re not a loser. I’ll help you, Eve. I promise. “
Se prendre d’amitié?
” Joe rattled off in a near-perfect French accent. Impressive.

“OK,” she gushed, bursting into what sounded like a real slop fest of tears and snot.

After about thirty minutes of listening to Eve cry on Joe’s shoulder, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I was done. The moment had been lovely, but now that I’d taken care of business, I had to get out. Let them move their therapy session outdoors. I flushed the toilet.

“
Pardonez-moi
,” I said, as I opened the bathroom door and slid past their astonished faces.

At least he didn’t take her up on it,” Jonah whispered as we huddled together under an itchy green blanket. It was the only one Cisco and Milan had left. Jonah’s arms were wrapped around my shoulders as we both stared into the licking flames. It was late by now, and I was fighting the waves of sleepiness that kept crashing over me.

“I know,” I yawned.

We both looked up at Joe and Eve, who had come out of the house and were talking to each other out of earshot.

“He looks so paternal all of a sudden,” I said, noticing their body language.

Jonah didn’t say anything, and I got nervous that maybe I’d done something wrong.

“I mean, I know he didn’t treat your mom very well,” I stammered, snapping myself awake, “and there’s no excuse for that, but at least he’s been faithful to his wife since, right? And he’s a good dad to his other kids. I mean, that’s something. Most of these old guys would jump on the opportunity to be with a nineteen-year-old girl…even Eve.”

“I guess,” he said. “It’s just different being the casualty. It’s hard to be the one left.”

“But you weren’t left. It sounds like he was never even there.”

“That’s some comfort, Francesca.”

“I don’t mean it like that. I just get the sense you blame yourself, and it obviously had nothing to do with you.”

As I said this, I couldn’t help but think of my own dad. It was so easy to say the words and so hard to believe them.

Nonetheless, by this time I knew Joe was a decent man. I knew this to be true. Listening to him talk to Eve helped me understand something. My own dad left because he wanted to leave—not because he was driven out by my mom. He made the choice. If he still loved my mother, he would have gone back to her, like Joe went back to his wife after he had his affair. But my dad was never going back to my mom. And maybe that was OK. I knew now that I had been wrong to blame my mother. It wasn’t her fault at all that my dad left. She was who she was. And in some ways, it wasn’t my dad’s fault either. Could I blame him for falling in love with somebody who made him happy if my mother didn’t anymore? It wasn’t a crime. It was just the state of the union.

It then struck me that my mom wasn’t actually in love with my dad either. She was angry, not heartbroken. Her ego was hurt that my dad was the one who ended things. But most of all, I think my mom was sort of sad that he had found somebody else. Somebody who made him happy. After so many years of marriage, she was suddenly alone. I never thought about how scary that must be for her. My dad was gone, Emily was leaving for college, and I wasn’t exactly a grand comfort. I felt a sharp pang of remorse at how terribly I’d treated my mother. I’d really been a monster bitch. I felt grateful to Emily for her kindness. At least my mother had one nice daughter. I’d been so busy collecting injustices and feeling under-appreciated that I never even considered how my mom or Emily must have felt. I mean, it’s not like I was the only one who had been left. Was it possible that it wasn’t about me at all?

It was ironic. I’d spent the last few days secretly feeling morally superior to Milan, Cisco, Chaz, Joe, and Eve. I wasn’t any better than them. It’s not like I had such a magnanimous disposition. The only difference between us was that I got grounded for bad behavior, whereas they ended up on the cover of
Star
.

“What are you thinking about?” Jonah asked, interrupting my train of thought.

“You,” I lied. If nothing else, I wanted to help Jonah understand about Joe. It seemed important, and it felt like something I could actually do to help repair their tattered relationship.

“It’s just that I wasn’t even a factor,” Jonah continued. “That blows my mind. He just didn’t care.”

“But, Jonah, he wasn’t in love with your mom. He loved his wife. He messed up and panicked, I’m sure. It wasn’t about you. It was about saving his own ass.” I paused. “You know the story of Narcissus?” I asked.

“Sort of.”

“He was a Greek hero who hated everyone who loved him. He disdained them. He fell in love with his reflection, and when he realized he couldn’t have himself, he killed himself.”

“I’m not following you. You think I’m like that guy?”

“It’s just that I think we’re all a little married to our reflections. To the way we see the world. Sometimes, it’s not about us, you know?”

“I guess, but when Joe looks at me, I can see that he hates me. That he wishes I was never born.”

“That’s not true,” I protested, disappointed that Jonah was too big a narcissist to heed the story of Narcissus. I decided on a different approach. “You know what I think, Jonah? I actually think Joe’s in awe of you. Like, the first time he heard you sing, that second night we were here, I saw his eyes fill up with tears. I think he’s proud of you. And I think he’s ashamed of himself.”

“There’s a thought,” Jonah said, disguising his obvious emotion with sarcasm. “It doesn’t really matter one way or the other. The world just sees my mom and me as the rejected ones. No matter what I do, or how much success I have, I will always be Joe Baronstein’s bastard.”

“You’re nuts. I don’t even think people make the connection any more. It’s like Billy Ray Cyrus and Miley. I mean, do you automatically think of Billy Ray when you see Miley Cyrus?”

“Nooooo.” Jonah smiled as though he thought Miley Cyrus was hot…which was weird. I elbowed him in the rib.

“Well, there you go. You need to get over it,” I said. “Maybe you should give your relationship another try?” I felt his body tense around me and then relax. I was feeling like a fixer, and I liked it.

“I do try,” he sighed, looking up at the stars. “It’s just the bitterness that sticks around like a bad aftertaste. And everyone acts like it’s something I should just get over and move on with. But every time my mom comes home in a rage about some premiere he went to with his
real
family or a vacation he took with his
real
kids, it starts again. It’s hard to explain without sounding self-indulgent. It’s just this idea that I was an accident and an embarrassment. That’s hard. I pray on it a lot. More than I’d like to admit.”

“My dad left too.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, tightening his grip again. “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”

“It’s OK. Really. I’m fine,” I said, puzzled by his tremendous empathy.

He sighed deeply.

“Here I am going on about my dad and my problems, and your dad is dead. I mean, that is…”

“Who told you that?” I interrupted him, horrified.

“Cisco.”

“Oh.” I felt a cold sweat collecting around my temples.

“I hope you’re not sorry he told me.”

“It’s fine,” I said, hoping to put an end to the conversation. He tucked a stray hair behind my ear gently.

OK, I swear I really did consider telling him the truth, but c’mon, the moment wasn’t right. Everything was going so well, and I couldn’t help but remember how telling Cisco the truth about my virginity had gone so splendidly awry. I just didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted it to go away. Maybe I wasn’t so evolved after all.

Jonah squeezed me tighter, and I was beginning to hope we’d never get rescued. If I could just freeze time, I could bury my lie.

“I don’t want to talk about it, OK?”

“Whatever you want, Fran. I’m here if you need me. Just know that.”

“I do,” I nodded. I wasn’t totally sold on the idea of Jonah and me, but I was enjoying the feeling of having somebody on my side for a change.

Just as I turned my head for a kiss, Chaz plopped down next to us with an open bottle of vodka.

“Who wants to play Would You Rather?”

Not now, I thought to myself. Can’t you see I’m cuddling with my potential boyfriend?

“I wanna play!” Milan shouted, walking toward us swinging Cisco’s hand. “Hey, are you guys together now?” Milan smiled, taking in the sight of me leaning up against Jonah.

“Yes,” Jonah announced before I could say anything. Cisco looked at me, and I immediately looked away.

“That’s cool,” she laughed. Her tone was patronizing, but I decided to let it go.

Milan pulled Cisco down next to us, and they immediately began an annoying game of footsie.

“Okaaaay,” Chaz began, savoring his question like a late night doughnut. “Would you rather be on the cover of
US
looking like you do right now,” he asked, pointing to Milan’s hair, which had really taken on a life force all its own, “or never, ever get out of this place?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve already been on the cover of
US
looking worse than this. What do I care?”

We all laughed. It was true. There was the cover of her passed out and drooling in her car, the one of her on steroids after she’d mistakenly inhaled Morton’s salt, and the one of her puking on a float in the pool at the Viceroy Hotel. She really didn’t care. On some level she cared less than anyone I’d ever known what other people thought of her. It was a good quality in anyone and quite extraordinary in an actress.

“What about you, Eve?” Chaz asked.

We cackled again. I think we all knew the answer to that.

“With the rash or without?” she asked. It was the first time I’d heard Eve make an attempt at humor.

“With!” we said in unison.

“I’d rather stay,” Eve snorted, burying her face in her hands. She actually looked quite beautiful just then. It wasn’t just that the rash was going away. She looked relaxed and unaffected. She looked happy. I wondered if maybe Joe had gotten through to her. We played Would You Rather until midnight. It was fun. I was really beginning to enjoy myself.