“Spa,” Geraldine said.
“One deep breath,” Sasha said.
Oh, merde, here it comes again, Lala thought.
Lala inhaled and exhaled, and Sasha dug her elbow into a stubborn knot in the muscle of Lala’s right shoulder blade.
“OY, SASHA,” Lala yelped. “That is FABULOUS!”
Another hour of exquisitely painful kneading later, and Lala just barely managed to get herself off the massage table, get her robe on again, and shuffle herself down a long hall to the outdoor patio of the spa. Geraldine was already there, lounging on a wicker recliner and reading a copy of the New York Times Book Review.
“You look relaxed,” Geraldine said. She poured a glass of lemon water from a large pitcher on the table next to her recliner and handed it to Lala, who had gotten herself down onto a recliner next to Geraldine’s with many contented grunts and huffs as she descended.
“I am. Sasha is a beast. That tiny little woman is amazing. It’s what I imagine getting a massage from the Incredible Hulk would be like.”
“I think our grumpy little Yootza is happy that his mama is okay.”
“Oh, Auntie Geraldine, I miss him.”
“Yup,” Geraldine said. “His absence is profound.”
“He was such a dear little grump. I’m thinking I’m going to up the ante on trying to put more joy in the world. In his grumpy little bastard honor.”
“Atta girl,” Geraldine said. She dabbed at her eyes with the end of her robe’s sash. “You know, I get the feeling he’s watching from Grumpy Little Bastard Heaven, and I think he’s really happy, Lala.”
They nodded and sipped their drinks. They paused, letting themselves enjoy the warm California sunshine, each savoring a special memory of Yootza.
Lala was reliving the first moment she saw Yootza at the shelter in New York City and his pronounced, crooked underbite immediately stole her heart.
Geraldine was recalling that funny, adorable, terrifying time Yootza mistook her left index finger for a Snausage.
After a few minutes, Lala spoke.
“Are you wishing this lemon water stuff had vodka in it as much as I am?”
“God, yes,” Geraldine said. “More.”
“What are you and Monty doing tonight?” Lala asked.
“Bonking.”
“GOD, you are my inspiration, Auntie Geraldine,” Lala said.
“What are you and David doing?”
“Well, in keeping with my renewed commitment to joy, I’ve decided I’m going to take my sweetheart out for dinner and a movie.”
“Lovely,” Geraldine sighed.
“And then I’m going to take him home and bonk him within an inch of his life.”
“Atta girl,” Geraldine said.
Lala and David drove to Redondo Beach. Lala had discovered that there was yet another movie theater that featured recliners and seat-side full bar service and food menus. This particular movie chain was housed in a massive and quite sumptuous shopping mall.
“Look at the architecture!” Lala exulted. “It’s just so pretty here! And more and more movie theaters have Barcaloungers now, and in more and more places I can order several lovely flutes of sparkling rosé, and we’re going to see a comedy that wasn’t directed by the guy directing my movie, so it actually might be good!”
David took Lala’s hand and kissed it and they continued walking through the crowds.
“David,” she said. “I’m so happy I found you. If I ruled the world, I would . . . I guess I’d need a magic wand. If I were in charge of the world and I had a magic wand, every person and animal would be as happy as I am. Ingrid?”
Lala stopped at the same moment a woman walking in the opposite direction stopped. The woman was tall and sporty and maybe a few years younger than Lala. She had long black hair pulled into a ponytail and her face was shiny and make-up free.
“Lala?”
The two women grabbed each other and hugged. Then they held each other at arm’s length and did a mutual assessment.
“Seriously, is there a portrait of you in an attic somewhere that looks like a dissipated old slattern? Because you have not aged one iota!”
“Shut up,” Ingrid said. “You’re the one who hasn’t aged!”
Ingrid’s voice was deep and had a subtle accent that defied identification beyond “pan-European.”
“Ingrid, this is my boyfriend, David McLellan,” Lala said. “David, this is Ingrid Garlin; we used to take acting class together in New York. And then, after class, we would go out and get hammered. We were birds of a feather. Except Ingrid has actual talent.”
“Shut up, you do, too,” Ingrid said.
“Oh, okay, so you’re not as good an actress as I thought. Not that Streep herself could have made that sentence convincing. How long have you been in LA?”
“I just got here. I’ve got a small part on a new sitcom.”
“WHAT!” Lala said. “See, David, I told you she has talent! I am thrilled for you! Where are you going right now?”
“Home,” Ingrid said. “I tried to find a new dress at Macy’s for a party, but everything looks awful on me.”
“I’ve got just the store for you,” Lala said. “It’s in the Valley.”
“Lala,” David said, “if Ingrid’s not busy, I think maybe we skip the movie tonight and go out for a drink together?”
Lala grabbed David’s face, which involved her standing on her tiptoes, and kissed him.
“This is one of the many reasons I love him. Are you busy, Ingrid?”
“Not too busy to catch up.”
They found a restaurant in the mall with a bar that wasn’t entirely overflowing with people. David grabbed them a small table in the corner and took their orders. Lala would have her flute of sparkling rosé, and when Ingrid heard that she said she thought that sounded lovely, which made David decide that they needed a bottle of sparkling rosé, which he then went to the bar to order. Lala kissed him again and watched him walk away.
“I’m so glad you’re happy again,” Ingrid said.
Ingrid had met Terrence several times in New York. She had attended Terrence’s funeral, as had so many people—family, close friends, casual friends, acquaintances. Terrence was much loved, and it didn’t take having spent a long time with him or having seen him often or knowing him well for people to want to honor his life and mourn his passing.
“Thank you, Ingrid,” Lala said. “I didn’t think it could happen twice in my life.”
“I’m jealous,” Ingrid said. “I haven’t met anyone nice since I got here.”
“I am on it. I am in full matchmaker mode. I’m doing a mental inventory even as we speak.”
Ingrid giggled and shook her head.
“I wish I could be as lucky in love as you are. David is so handsome. And your ex-husband was such a great—”
My what? Lala thought.
And that was the last thinking Lala did before she spoke. Before she interrupted Ingrid and started speaking quickly and fairly loudly, and got quicker and louder as she went on.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. No, Terrence was my late husband. He was not my ex-husband. We weren’t divorced. I was widowed. Late husband. Not ex-husband. Big difference. Very, very, very big difference. We weren’t divorced. We would never have divorced each other. We loved each other.”
And in the midst of that, Lala, at some point that she wasn’t aware of, did start thinking enough to realize that David was standing next to her holding an ice bucket with a bottle in it.
“Hi, Honey!” she said.
Merde, she thought.
If David had heard her and if he was in any way upset about what she had said, he was in fact a very accomplished actor, because nothing in his voice or demeanor indicated anything but comfort and contentment. He put the bucket on
the table and gave Lala a quick kiss.
“Three flutes, in a flash.”
And he was off again. And Lala felt awful.
“Ingrid, I am so sorry I lost my mind.”
“No, not at all,” Ingrid said. “It’s my English. I got confused. I’m so sorry. I meant late husband. I just misspoke.”
“No, no, no, it’s all my fault, and I’m so nuts and I’m so sorry.”
“David’s coming back,” Ingrid said.
And David was back, smiling and placing three champagne glasses on the table. He took the bottle out of the bucket and popped the cork.
“Such a happy sound!” he said.
They drank the sparkling rosé, and it was delicious. David insisted that he stop drinking after having only half a glass because he was the designated driver, and he would be driving Ingrid home too, since she lived in Venice and that wasn’t far at all, so Ingrid and Lala drank almost the entire bottle by themselves. They ordered appetizers to share, and the conversation never lagged as they talked about movies and Lala’s book and Ingrid’s role on the sitcom and David’s uncanny ability to calm terrified feral cats. And then it was time to go home. They took Ingrid to the cute little guest house in Venice that she was renting from an adorable elderly couple named Bess and Marjorie. Bess and Marjorie were in the front yard when David’s car pulled into the driveway, and they toddled over to the passenger window and cooed at them that they had to come in for cake and tea.
With the first bite, Lala realized that the cake had a lot of rum in it.
“Bess? Marjorie?” she said.
“Yes, dear,” the two precious women cheeped in unison.
“Please sign me up as your niece. Please count on me to take care of you, should you ever need it. Because I love you.”
“That’s nice, dear,” Bess said. “Thank you.”
“We’ll certainly keep you in mind, dear,” Marjorie said. “Thank you.”
Bess and Marjorie had twelve cats. They were all sitting on David’s lap, or trying to shove off their siblings who were sitting on David’s lap so they could sit on David’s lap, or winding their way around and through David’s ankles in a rhythmic dance that might have gotten the choreographer a Tony award.
“Cats know,” Marjorie said. “They know good people.”
“They do,” Bess said.
They sure do, Lala thought.
Everyone hugged good-bye at the back door to Bess and Marjorie’s cozy house. Lala and David walked Ingrid across the small yard to her door. When they were in the car and headed home, Lala realized that she really was relaxed and she really felt confident that she should be relaxed, because maybe David hadn’t even heard her lose her mind at the bar and if he had, it clearly hadn’t hurt his feelings, which was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
Ohh, thank goodness, Lala thought. Everything’s okay. Everything’s great, actually.
“What a lovely evening,” she said. “Such a wonderful unplanned adventure.”
“Yup,” David said. “Listen, I need to . . . I’d really like to talk.”
Merde, Lala thought. And there goes the likelihood of us bonking tonight right down the drain, too.
David paced. He looked over at the dogs, who were huddled together on one of their doggy beds sitting bolt upright and whose eyebrows, as much as the area above their eyes could be described as such, were knitted in distress.
“Daddy’s not angry,” David said, not letting up his pacing for one moment to reassure Eunice and Petunia and Chester.
Lala and David had driven home from Ingrid’s place in relative silence, and once home they had both changed into comfy sweatpants and flannel shirts because no one was feeling very sexy at that point, and now they were in the living room, and David was walking a trench into the hardwood floor.
“I think they’re upset because their papa is choosing such a clichéd physical manifestation of distress,” Lala said.
David stopped pacing.
“You’re trying to be funny?”
Oops, Lala thought. Too soon?
“I am,” she admitted. “Sorry.”
“No, no, don’t apologize. I’m laughing. On the inside.”
Ohh, David, Lala thought. I don’t deserve someone as nice as you.
“You are so sweet. If the roles were reversed, I’d be screaming right now about how you’re being glib in the face of my entirely understandable angst about our relationship.”
“You would?” David said.
Oops, Lala thought.
“Yup,” Lala said. “Did I just overplay my hand? You don’t want to hitch your wagon to a hypocrite?”
“I’m not really worried about that. I love you.”
“I love you,” Lala said.
I do, Lala thought. You’re wonderful and I love you.
“And you love Terrence.”
“Of course I do. And if . . . god, I can’t even stand to think about this . . . If you died, I’d still love you. I will love you forever, too. Unless you do something really shitty. I’m not a saint.”
David came over to the sofa where Lala had been trying unsuccessfully to sit comfortably since they had gotten home and sat down next to her. He took her hand and kissed it.
“Okay, in the context of this evening, a little glib.”
“Oops. Sorry.”
“I get that you’ll always love Terrence. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about our future. When I heard you say ‘late husband, not ex-husband,’ I understood it. I really did. It just made me have to face the fact that if Terrence were still alive, you’d still be married to him.”
Of course I would, Lala thought.
“Well, yes, if things continued to be as wonderful as they were between Terrence and me. But . . . I mean, what about you? Would you still be with your ex-wife if you could? Because it’s actually possible that you could, because she’s still alive. She’s more of a threat to me than Terrence is to you.”
David leaned his head on the back of the sofa and pressed his palms onto his closed eyes. He was silent for several long moments.
“No, see, that’s kind of exactly the point,” he finally said. “I didn’t want her to leave me, but once she did, I ended up not wanting her to come back. Not now. Not ever. Because what I would really like is for us to get married. When you’re ready. So this is my proposal that we move on the path toward getting married, okay? Wait. Don’t answer yet.”
David ran into the kitchen and ran back carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He popped the cork, poured, and handed a glass to Lala.
“I promise the actual proposal will be much more involved and premeditated,” David said. “But right now I’m wooing you with champagne so you’ll say that we’re going to go in the direction of getting married. If that’s what you want us to be doing.”
I . . . I do, Lala thought.
“Yes,” Lala said. “In that direction. Walking, running, driving, flying. Being instantly sent there by that transporter thing on Star Trek. I really want to. I would love to.”
I really would, Lala thought. As long as you don’t die before I do.
David smiled and chugged his glass of champagne and Lala copied him. They grabbed each other and kissed, and the dogs finally exhaled and flopped down in the bed and fell asleep.
This is wonderful, Lala thought. David is happy. I’m happy. Puppies are relieved that the mishegoss around here has abated. Win, win, and win.
She was surprised to suddenly find herself feeling wide awake, even after the long night. Lala shimmied her shoulders in a kind of involuntary, but nonetheless quite delicious tic of joy and swung her hips over onto David, pinning him to the couch with her legs. She kissed him and ripped his flannel shirt open, sending buttons leaping into the air.
“How’s that for a clic
héd physical manifestation?” she purred. “Sorry about your shirt.”
“Like I care about my stupid shirt,” David whispered.
I will just have to choose not to be terrified that David will die before I do, Lala thought. I think I can definitely not be terrified. I will focus on joy and faith and love and hope. And I will focus on the fact that bonking is definitely back on the agenda for tonight.
Or Maybe Even The Present?
I am terrified, Lala thought. I am utterly and entirely and unreasonably and irrationally and completely understandably and just about constantly terrified.
She was sitting in her new production office with Zoe and Eliza. The night before had ended with Lala and David having utterly delightful sex.
“Wow,” Lala said. They were on the couch wrapped in a blanket. “Our first sex as an engaged-to-be-engaged couple. Very excellent sex, I might and just did add.”
They put their sweatpants back on, and Lala put her flannel shirt back on, and David got a sweatshirt to put on because his flannel shirt had been torn open, and they went downstairs and knocked on Geraldine and Monty’s door. They had clearly interrupted Geraldine and Monty while the older couple was not asleep in bed, and Geraldine and Monty invited them in. Lala told them she and David were “engaged-to-be engaged,” and Geraldine said, “What the hell does that mean? Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”
And now Lala was in her production office and it was taking every bit of strength she could muster not to hyperventilate as she sat at a small table with Zoe and Eliza, and they all ate the sandwiches they had gotten at the best sandwich place ever, which Lala had been introduced to by Monty’s daughter Helene shortly after she moved to Southern California, and which was right next door to the office and was a major factor in Lala deciding on the office space she chose.
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