“So you’re okay?” her aunt barked into the computer screen.
Jeez, Lala thought. Try to sound a little less disappointed.
“Yup!” Lala said with all the forced cheerfulness she could muster, given how much her head still hurt. “The paramedics gave me a clean bill of health. I just have to rest for a day or two.”
“DAVID!” Geraldine yelled. “You can talk to her if you want.”
Geraldine, who had been sitting at her desk on the Skype call with Lala and had been hugging Petunia, leapt out of the chair and scowled at David as she brushed by him. Lala saw David stare with a troubled look after Geraldine’s retreating figure. He sat in the chair and smiled at the screen.
“I’m so glad you’re not hurt.”
“Oh, David, honey, thank you. I miss you. I love you. That’s not the French version of Extra Strength Tylenol with Codeine talking.”
And then, without warning, there was an awkward pause. Lala and David smiled nervously at each other.
“How are the dogs? How long are you home?”
“I’m just here until tomorrow. The dogs are great,” David said. “They miss their mama. We all miss you.”
Ever since she received the Skype call from Manhattan Beach, Lala had a vague but consistent feeling of wooziness, which she assumed was from her nervous heart pumping blood just a little too quickly. As a result, she was a tiny beat behind fully hearing what Geraldine and David were saying to her, as though there were a delay in the transmission. She smiled at David as she processed what he just said before she responded, and he jumped in again before she could say anything.
“Are we okay?” David asked
“Mmm—”
“Because I’m not sure where we’re—”
“. . . hmm. Mmm hmm, I’m okay. Am I okay? Is that what you asked me?”
“No. I mean, of course I want to make sure you’re okay. No one told you to just throw the apple to the goat? What I asked just now was if we’re okay?
Ohhh, merde, Lala thought.
“Mmm hmm! Yup!” Lala said.
“David! Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Geraldine brayed from some dark and forbidding space beyond the computer.
“Be right there!” he called over his shoulder.
He looked back at the screen. There was another awkward pause. Lala had to struggle to keep her voice steady as she stumbled into the silence.
“You better not keep the general waiting,” she said.
“Yup. Love you.”
“Love you.”
She didn’t give herself a chance to hesitate breaking their virtual connection. Her index finger slammed down on the mouse so that the call would disconnect as quickly as possible.
Lala shut her laptop and put it on the coffee table next to the couch. She turned the television back on and snuggled beneath the two cozy quilts Kenny and Atticus had covered her with when they brought her home from the set while the rest of the cast and crew stayed behind to reshoot the scene and try to make up for the time she had cost them.
Minou was on her lap sleeping the peaceful repose of a treasured pet. Lala held the cat closer and was comforted by snuggling with an animal.
“Minou,” she whispered. “I’m all off balance. Did I tell you that my star sign is Libra? It’s the scales. Stop me if I’m repeating myself.”
Lala picked up the remote control and flipped through the channels. She settled on a documentary about—as far as she could tell from what she could catch of the narration and from the photograph and video montages—the fashion choices of the 1970s that were, in hindsight, especially unfortunate.
She watched for a few minutes, and then she started to feel really tired again. She put her head back on the pillow and pulled Minou up right under her chin. The cat started purring loudly, and the sound of her and of the low volume on the television was just what Lala needed to help her relax. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“Minou, did I ever tell you about this time Terrence and I were going to the Hollywood Bowl? Stop me if you’ve heard this before. No? Okay. So we were visiting my parents for a few weeks and Steely Dan was playing at the Bowl, so of course we had to go. But you know parking at the Bowl is just hellish. So my friend Theodora told us about this swell street nearby where parking is actually not restricted and not many people know about it. So we park there and she’s given us instructions on how to find the staircase that leads right down to Highland Avenue right by the Bowl, and we can just walk across the street and we’re right there. And of course I didn’t write down the directions because they sounded so easy when she was telling them to me. And of course I thought I was following them. And of course I couldn’t find the stairway.”
Lala heard quiet yelling in English coming from the television. She opened her eyes, lifted her head, and turned up the volume. The archival video showed a group of young people standing outside a disco in midtown Manhattan. Lala gasped when she saw the outfits they were wearing.
“Sweet Baby Jesus,” she said.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. It wasn’t until her head started hurting again that she was forced to shut her eyes and lean back down on the pillow.
“Where was I, Minou? Oh, yeah. So it’s getting later and later. We’re in danger of not getting to the Bowl in time for the show. I’m getting frantic. I keep looking and looking and we’re running around and then there it is. It just appears. With no effort. I’m looking in front of me, and I look maybe a few inches to my right, and there’s the staircase. As though it had been there all along. I must have looked at that spot where it was a dozen times while we were searching. Somehow I didn’t see the staircase until that moment. Until the last second. And then everything was okay.”
Lala’s voice was trailing off during the last two sentences, and she fell asleep again. When she woke up, she wasn’t sure how long she had slept. She peered at the television. The documentary had ended, and the channel was now showing a talent competition. Lala immediately closed her eyes again. She didn’t feel the need to try to find anything more compelling to watch, because she had the distinct impression that she wouldn’t be awake for long. Minou did not wake up, and had not stopped purring.
“You’re such a love, Minou,” Lala whispered. “Want to hear a story? It’s germane to what I was talking about before our most recent nap. It was when my parents and I were visiting my grandparents in England. I was a teenager. I had such a blast with all my cousins. They’re so cool. Anyway, I was taking a bath at the hotel and there weren’t any screens on the window because, you know, Europe ’n’ stuff, and this huge fly comes buzzing in. The poor thing starts frantically bumping into the walls, and of course I immediately feel sorry for it, so I’m thinking I’ll get up if it doesn’t find its way back to the window soon and I’ll just herd the big beast outside. So it gets back to the general area of the window, so I’m thinking it’s going to be fine, and the stupid insect is hitting the wall all around the window and it’s going everywhere right next to the window, and I start yelling, ‘It’s right there, you idiot! Just move over one inch! It’s right there!”
Lala titled her head without lifting it and looked down at the cat.
“I can see that you’re hanging on my every word,” she giggled. “In case you’re wondering, I did have to get up out of the bathtub and I used my towel to guide the fly toward the window, and it finally got out.” Lala shut her eyes.
I’m hungry, Lala thought. And I’m much too lazy to get up. Oh, well.
And then she sighed. “The window is just an inch away. The staircase is within my field of vision. I feel like the answer is right there. The solution is right there. I just can’t find it.”
Lala slept on and off for the next day and night. She was reasonably conscious when Kenny and Atticus came up to check on her and to bring her comforting soups and breads. They sat with he
r while she ate, and they left her with lots of hugs and with promises to check on her and to not wake her if she was asleep.
Clive and Matthew also came over. Lala was asleep when they got there, so they left her a box of gorgeous red apples and a note that said, “Throw them! Just throw them!” Lala chortled when she woke and saw the gift and the note, and muttered “Those cheeky bastards think they’re funny” to Minou. She thought about eating one of the apples, decided she would save that for later, and then promptly fell asleep again.
The next time she woke up, Lala was surprised to find that she had something going on in her body and her mind that almost felt a little bit like energy. She stayed curled up on her left side with Minou snuggled against her chest while she debated if the sensation was real or a phantom memory from the days when she was actually peppy. She opened her eyes and looked at the television. Matthew’s film, Tooters, was showing again.
Did that cheeky bastard put a DVD of his abomination on repeat? Or is that being broadcast again? Why do the French love that stupid movie so much?
Lala turned over on her back, clutching Minou and taking her with her as she rolled. She lifted herself up a bit on the pillow and blinked at the light in the room. The curtains were drawn, but bright sunlight was streaming in around the edges.
“Wow, Minou,” Lala said. “I may be done sleeping. For now.”
Lala sat up. She swung her legs around and put her feet on the floor.
“Okay! So far, so good.”
Lala sat quietly and just looked around the room for a bit. When she was confident that sitting up felt good, she decided it might indeed be time to reconnect with the world. Opening her laptop seemed like a good first step.
The first thing Lala saw when she checked her inbox was an e-mail from her aunt.
“READ THIS RIGHT AWAY” the subject line blared.
Yikes, Lala thought.
She steeled herself as she clicked to open the aggressive missive. Lines and lines of text ran in front of her as she scrolled down. Even as she was avoiding actually taking in any of the words and as she was trying to ignore all the exclamation points, Lala was marveling that the internet in fact had the capacity to transport a tome of such intense volume. She took a deep breath and headed back up to the top of the e-mail. She glanced down at Minou, who had turned around in a circle a few times right after Lala sat up, and was now curled up and fast asleep on the couch next to her with the top of her little head resting up against the edge of Lala’s laptop.
“This communication from Auntie Geraldine is the reason the phrase ‘magnum opus’ was coined. Do you want to hear what she has to say, Minou? You do? Okay. I’ll read to you. Wait. I better get something liquid. Go back to sleep.”
Lala brewed a lovely, extra-large mug of English Breakfast tea and carried it back to the couch.
“Shove over,” she said to Minou. She snuggled next to the cat and started at the top of the screen. There was no salutation for her to read. Auntie Geraldine got right to it.
“‘Of course I’m glad that you’re okay,’” Lala read. “‘But I’m done pretending your behavior is acceptable any longer, young lady! You could be losing him right now! What if some graduate student or sexy colleague has turned David’s head because you’ve been ignoring him?’”
Lala paused and took a big gulp of tea.
“Okay, I haven’t exactly been ignoring him,” she said. She shrugged and continued reading.
“’What would you expect David to do if you died first?’”
Damn you . . .
“‘Con—’”
Damn you and your making sense ’n’ stuff, Auntie Geraldine, Lala thought.
“—tinue his life,’” Lala continued as her answer to Geraldine’s question. “I’d expect him to find happiness again. And take really good care of my dogs. But he hasn’t had to go through it yet. I’m weakened by it.”
“‘I know you think you’ve been weakened by losing Terrence,’” Lala read.
Lala’s eyes widened and she shook her head in disbelief.
“Wow. She is good, Minou. I think I mentioned that once or twice a long time ago. I’m hungry. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Lala ran to the kitchen and returned with a warm croissant and a pot of Kenny’s jam to dip it in. Lala was so mesmerized by her aunt’s ability to predict her response while Geraldine was writing the e-mail that she had almost entirely forgotten to be dreading the lecture she was receiving. She plopped back down on the couch, took a big bite of croissant, and started reading again with her mouth full.
“‘Or you’re strengthened by your terrible loss. Because you know that it gets better. It gets easier. It never gets easy. But it does get easier.’”
Damn her, Lala thought. She’s right.
“‘And we go on. Because we must. You know what Terrence said to everyone when he was sick.’ God, Auntie Geraldine plays dirty, Minou.”
Lala had to stop reading while she remembered, very clearly, as though she were again hearing and seeing Terrence ask their friends and family to please promise him that they would always make sure that Lala was okay.
She remembered all these scenes, but she was remembering them in her imagination, because Terrence had never had any of those conversations when she was there with him. It was only after he died that so many—that all of their friends and family had told her that nothing mattered to him but her welfare.
“Ahhh,” she sighed. She brushed away many tears with the palms of her hands and went back to the screen.
“‘All he asked us to do was take care of you. All he wanted was for you to find love again. And you have. If you throw it away, I swear to god, I will slap you so hard.’”
I’m scared, Lala thought. And then she clarified, as though Minou had heard her thoughts.
“I’m not scared of her slapping me, Minou,” Lala said. “She’s tall and she’s feisty as fuck, but I think I could take her. I’m scared of ever again feeling the way I did when Terrence was gone. Goodness, I need more tea. Wait just a sec.”
She ran to the kitchen and came back with a full pot and another croissant.
“‘I don’t give a royal rat’s patootie how scared you are of losing David the way you lost Terrence.’ Yikes, Minou, that is a bit strident, don’t you think? ‘I could lose Monty tomorrow. TOMORROW, do you hear me? And it would all be worth it. ALL of it. Don’t you dare let David go because you’re scared of losing him. I will NOT put up with anything as ironic as that in your life or in my life, do you understand me?’”
Lala realized she just had to take a break. She closed her laptop and walked toward the bathroom, shedding her clothes as she stepped. She took a very long, very hot bath, and then got dressed in her exercise clothes, with the idea of taking a long and brisk walk along the Seine. But she decided she did want to finish her aunt’s e-mail before she left the apartment.
Minou was asleep between the layers of the multiple blankets on the couch. Lala patted the flannel mounds to ascertain where the cat was. A warm, large lump and a meow followed quickly by a soft little growl established the space next to which Lala should sit.
“Those first two years were a non-stop nightmare,” Lala said. “I couldn’t survive that again. I couldn’t.”
She opened her laptop and read aloud:
“‘I know the years after Terrence was gone were a nightmare.’”
Lala slammed the laptop shut as though it had suddenly come completely alive and was spying on her with a not-clearly-benevolent goal in mind.
“Okay, this is just getting weird now, Minou. Is Geraldine here? Is she typing her responses remotely while she’s listening to me? And reading my thoughts?”
Lala slowly opened the laptop again and peered beneath the screen as it lifted.
“‘I hope you don’t have to experience that tragedy ever ag
ain, but if you do, we’ll all be there to help you. And you’ll get through it.’”
An angry and unkind thought occurred to Lala. She felt guilty, but she had to give it voice. And it probably wouldn’t bother the cat, who was continuing to be deeply unconscious.
“I’m sorry, Auntie Geraldine, but would you be saying all this to me if—poo, poo, poo god forbid, Monty’s tumor hadn’t been benign?”
“‘I realize I may sound glib,’” Lala read, “‘And you may be wondering if I would be feeling the same way if Monty’s tumor had been malignant.’”
Okay, either Geraldine just knows me really, really, really, really, really well, or Minou is somehow communicating telepathically with her, Lala thought.
“Minou,” she said, “if I find out you two are in cahoots, I will be very annoyed.” And then she went back to the screen. “‘I would be sad and I would be crying and I would still be saying exactly the same things to you that I am saying now. Because all the sadness and the tears would be worth it for the time I’ve already had with Monty, and please don’t even try to tell me that you don’t feel the same way about the time you had with Terrence.’”
Fuuuuuuuuuuck, Lala thought.
And, as much as she wanted argue with her aunt, to scream that she couldn’t stand to be widowed a second time, because maybe that would somehow vaccinate her against it ever happening again, she knew her aunt was right. If it ever did happen again, she would get through it. Somehow.
“Okay, enough for now. Air. And movement. I need both. Aussi vite que possible. Sorry about my mangled accent, Minou.”
Lala calmly shut her laptop and put it back on the coffee table. She tied her shoelaces and stood. She patted the small feline lump beneath the blankets.
“Don’t get up. I’ll be back in an hour or two. When you communicate with Auntie Geraldine, which I assume you’ll be doing as soon as I leave, please tell her I promise to reflect on everything she’s yelled at me.”
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