The Actor

by Maya Brooks

  “No... I’m driving you home.”

  The Escalade seemed impossibly big, black, shiny, and intimidating. Having him drive was still out of the question.

  It’s just a car. How hard can it be?

  “No lover, it’s my turn. I’ve never driven it and I want to try. Give me the key, okay?”

  “Fine… Women…”

  She had to help him into the passenger seat, and once she got in herself, she fumbled with the controls.

  I can’t even reach the pedals. Just how tall are you?

  After a couple of minutes, the GPS annoyed Marc, and he fumbled with turning it off.

  “Fuck. In the old days you could throw them out the window, now the entire fucking dash goes with it.”

  “Yes, well, I kinda need it to find our way home, so it’s probably for the best.”

  He leaned back and ran his hands over his face. “Pull over will you.”

  She obeyed without hesitation and he stumbled out of the car, leaning against a railing by the side of the road, puking his guts out. Laura rested her forehead against the steering wheel.

  I wonder if anyone would judge me for killing Joel?

  Marc fell over and sat on his butt on the icy road.

  Crap. I’ll never get him up.

  “C’mon handsome, I need you to get in the car. Hold on to me.”

  He stared at her without recognition for a long moment.

  “Okay.”

  Be nice, Laura. Alienating him won’t make anything better. Keep your mouth shut so he doesn’t decide to walk home and end up freezing to death or something.

  Discussions were better left for the morning. Google had informed her addicts were best approached when suffering the consequences of their deeds, and the idea made sense. It was still difficult to keep her mouth shut.

  Once they got home, Marc leaned heavily on her, but stopped outside the front door, swaying from side to side.

  “I’ve gotta take a piss.”

  Normal people would go inside and do that in the restroom, not in front of a security camera…

  He was too far gone to care about little details like that. He was also too far gone to be able to pull his zipper up, and the big man staggering into his house, holding his pants with one hand, heading for the kitchen muttering he needed a drink seemed comical even to her.

  Why can’t you just pass out like normal people? Sleep it off somewhere, don’t make it worse.

  She wanted to hyperventilate, or throw a fit, maybe lock herself in a closet and not come out of a couple of days. She took a deep breath instead and followed him to the kitchen.

  Marc struggled with a bottle of scotch that wouldn’t come open: it required more coordination than he could muster at the moment.

  She took it out of his hands, put it on the counter, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Come to bed with me.”

  She didn’t expect him to obey, but he followed her into the bedroom and even let her help get the jacket and shoes off. Falling backwards into bed, he snored before his head hit the pillow, and she unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

  Kissing his hair, she whispered, “You almost made it. It’s my fault too. You asked me to go with you. If I had taken you seriously, we would have been home hours ago.”

  Sinking down on the edge of the bed, she kicked her shoes off.

  A shower would be good, but it’s too late. It’ll have to wait.

  The phone rang, making her jump.

  Marc didn’t stir.

  Should I answer? Well, I live here now, and if I am to put up with this shit, I guess it’s my phone too. If it’s a girl or a drug dealer I’d rather know than wonder. It better not be Joel. I’ll kill him.

  She did not expect to hear Lawrence’s voice at two in the morning.

  “Hey Laura, I just wanted to check in on you guys. I heard things went overboard. Are you okay?”

  His thoughtfulness formed a lump in her throat, and hot tears welled up in her eyes. She needed to swallow before she could answer.

  “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  Lawrence sighed. “And Marc?”

  “Still to be determined. He’s sleeping now.”

  Thomas’s voice spoke to the side. “Is that Laura? Poor girl, let me talk to her.”

  Lawrence handed over the phone, and she said, “Hi Thomas. You guys are so sweet checking up on me.”

  “You missed a commotion when you left. Bill, Lawrence, and I were heading out, we just saw you leave. So, this party deuce bag comes running after you, dragging a six-foot transvestite along. Anyway, Bill stepped up and punched party-boy right in the face. Said if he ever comes near you two again, he’ll regret it.”

  “Bill can be scary. He sure scared me first time we met.”

  Thomas didn’t answer at once.

  Are you guys holding a secret conversation, trying to decide how much to tell me?

  “It’s night-night time for me, honey. Remember Marc came back to you, and he left with you. You have influence over him.”

  In spite of the late hour, she lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of her friend’s words.

  *****

  When Marc eventually woke up, the house was quiet, and much too bright sunlight sifted in through the curtains.

  I think my head is about to explode. Am I home? How did I get here?

  Rising up and making his way to the restroom seemed more work than it was worth, but he zigzagged over there anyway. At least no one was there to see him lean on furniture along the way.

  Laura’s stuff was still spread all over and he drew a sigh of relief.

  Thank God, I expected her to be long gone by now.

  The bed called out to him, but he couldn’t afford to lie back down. He needed to know if she was still there.

  He made his way through the house. There were no signs of her, no sounds except his own breathing and heart beating.

  Please be in the kitchen. Please, please, please be in the kitchen.

  The relief he felt when he saw her stand by a counter, slicing a tomato, made him want to weep. He slumped on a chair and ran his hands over his face.

  I should apologize. There’s a million things I should say to her, but I got nothing.

  The room revolved slowly around him and he closed his eyes, hoping not looking would help fight the queasiness. A hand touched his shoulder and he peeked out through his fingers. Laura put a glass with orange juice in front of him, and he could feel her kiss the top of his head.

  The gentle gesture broke his paralysis and he pulled her onto his lap.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.”

  He barely heard her.

  “I don’t remember much of yesterday, but I hope I wasn’t too horrible. Can you forgive me?”

  She sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I forgive you.”

  The juice looked good. He reached for the glass and gulped it down.

  “Damn, I should just put my mouth under the garden hose.”

  It was a lame joke, but she smiled. At least she didn’t hate him.

  “Did I break anything?”

  “You didn’t break anything, but you were pretty impossible.”

  “I bet.”

  “We need to talk about something. Do you want some more juice first?”

  Talk? Crap. What did I do?

  Thinking back was too difficult, just living in the moment and sitting up seemed to take more out of him than he had.

  I need to lie down or I’ll throw up.

  More juice sounded pretty good, but he shook his head anyway, trying to ignore how the movement made him sicker.

  “Just tell me.”

  If she was leaving, he’d rather know.

  Laura’s words surprised him, as did her calm tone of voice.

  “I don’t mind all that much that you drink sometimes. I mean, I don’t love it, but you’re not that bad of a drunk. You don’t get nasty or violent
or anything. Yesterday, I expected you to wander off with some of the beauties, but you remembered you were there with me, and you stayed with me. I really appreciate that.”

  I want to bury my face against her breasts. They look so soft and cushiony and putting my head down and closing my eyes would be good. Oh, she stopped talking. What was that again? I think she said nice things about me.

  He made an effort to answer coherently.

  “There aren’t any other women for me now. I’m a dunce and I know I’m going to find a way to screw this up, but I really do love you.”

  She trailed her fingers through his hair, and even that soft touch hurt.

  “I love you too. But you need to stay off the drugs.”

  He rubbed his temples with one hand, holding her tight with the other arm.

  I don’t remember shit.

  “I don’t know what your poison of choice is, and I don’t think I want to know. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be not to do it, but you have to...”

  “I know.”

  It wasn’t a good answer, but the best he could come up with.

  “If you can’t, I’ll have to leave you.”

  “I know.”

  The words were even more insufficient this time around, but he didn’t have any others. Laura pressed her lips against the side of his head, and his arms became much too empty when she slipped off his lap.

  She brought him some more juice and a bottle with aspirin. He shook a few of them out in his palm and squinted to keep them in focus.

  Would taking five be bad? Who cares, me worrying about aspirin is a joke anyway.

  “I think Imma have to go lay down babe. Would you keep me company?”

  “Okay.”

  Feeling her body pressed against his side and her head resting on his shoulder reminded him of heaven. He’d do anything to keep her, and she probably knew.

  “Did I get into any fights?”

  She made a snorting sound, close to a chuckle.

  What’s so funny?

  “Bill did, on your behalf. I almost kicked Joel myself to keep him away from you.”

  Joel, the little twit. We were leaving and I had to let the beer out. If I hadn’t gone back we would have been okay.

  The previous night was coming back in bits and pieces.

  “Oh my God, did we do it in the closet?”

  “Yes.”

  I’m a pathetic excuse for a human being.

  He turned his head enough to be able to look at her.

  “You can’t have wanted that. Why didn’t you tell me to go to hell?”

  Laura sighed and patted his chest.

  “You know, I was grateful you returned to me. I imagined you walking off with one busty blonde on each side, it might not be fair, but it’s what I thought would happen. I’d rather have you doing it with me any time than with someone else.”

  “It’s not unfair, it used to happen all the time, and I’d wake up wondering where I was.”

  Things were different now.

  “Did you have any fun?”

  “I had a great time, up until you met Joel. You almost made it.”

  “Almost. I’m an ass.”

  “Not when you’re sober. You’re wonderful when you’re sober.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Laura kept her eyes on Marc for a few days, but he showed no signs of falling off the wagon.

  She wanted to talk to him about it, but was afraid to. Maybe he would do great until she reminded him. Bringing it up might ruin everything.

  A courier delivered a thick script for him.

  “Aah, the pilot. You have to read with me, sweetheart.”

  I have to what?

  “Look here. I’m Evan, so you’ll be James. That’s your first line there.”

  She felt really dumb when they started, but he charmed her and acted the scenes out. Once she got used to it, she had the time of her life.

  When it was time for his first day of filming, he left when it was still dark outside. She woke from him kissing her cheek.

  “Have a good day, beautiful.”

  She moseyed out of bed, had breakfast, and roamed around the house.

  Strange how nothing seems any fun on my own. It has to be at least noon by now. Maybe he’ll be home soon.

  Looking at her cell phone, it claimed it was nine thirty.

  Still morning? Are you kidding?

  Unfortunately, the kitchen clock was in agreement. She needed to find something to do.

  Turning the computer on alleviated boredom for a bit. It was red and pretty. She hadn’t known laptops came in color nowadays.

  Checking her Facebook, Twitter, and e-mail kept her occupied for fifteen minutes. Reading some news and blogs took another fifteen.

  Great. Now what do I do? I never told him how much I enjoy the computer. Can I text him? No, they might be filming. Can’t have a buzzing, beeping phone interrupting. He would have thought of that, of course, but I should be able to go more than a few hours without him.

  It was just past ten, well late enough to go to the store. She had pretty much adopted the red jeep, and wanted to get a little dragon or something to hang from the rearview mirror, to make it feel hers. Maybe some blank CDs too, fix something to play on the road. The other vehicles intimidated her, but the Jeep was nice.

  Stretching the shopping tour out with coffee and searching for groceries, she managed to keep herself occupied until noon.

  Marc called when she returned to the car.

  “Hey beautiful, how are you?”

  “I’m missing you, of course. How’s your day going?”

  “Oh, it’s great. I’ve been bombed on the sets for so long I forgot how much fun this could be. Hey, would you do me a favor?”

  He rattled off a list of strange items and she counted them off on her fingers.

  “No problem.”

  “I’ve gotta go. See you tonight.”

  “Marc, wait. I never told you how much I love the computer. I love the computer.”

  He laughed softly.

  “I love you, silly girl.”

  Oh snap, I should have asked when he thinks he’ll be home. Tonight sounds late.

  Up until that moment she hadn’t been worried. Now her imagination painted out all sorts of disasters. Who knew what temptations might ambush him.

  The rest of the day went by even slower. She didn’t even have to clean; their housekeeper did everything. She needed to find a hobby.

  Evening fell and there was no sign of Marc. Could she call him?

  Showing I don’t trust him won’t make anything better. Am I going to worry like this for the rest of my life?

  It was late by the time she heard the front door open.

  “Marc?”

  No one answered, and she tucked her head into the hallway just to check it really was him. The corridor was empty.

  She heard him clear his throat in the direction of the kitchen, but when she looked, she jumped and yelped. He towered over her, looking bigger than ever, dressed in a long robe with his face filled with authentic scars and bruises.

  “Boo.”

  “Aaah, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  She couldn’t keep it up; she laughed, and he grinned.

  It doesn’t happen often, but I am speechless.

  “Nice eyebrows, handsome.”

  They were striped and much less eye-catching than the long ponytail, or the all too real-looking scar that stretched over half his face, but commenting on those things seemed too evident.

  Marc chuckled and held his arms out.

  “Come fair maiden, the forces of good have battled all day, and this warrior requires the solace of his beloved’s arms.”

  She snuggled close, and the wide sleeves of his robe made a cocoon around her.

  “I was going to pick up food for my beautiful princess, but I didn’t want to scare the nice young man at the pizzeria.”

  “You don’t look like a person who
would eat pizza. You look like someone who would slay poor defenseless animals in the forest with a sword so big it defies reality. Like Vengar.”

  He laughed.

  “Well, the costume comes with a sword, but it’s made of rubber, so I’m not sure I can use it to provide for us.”

  She stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his, thoroughly enjoying the kiss and his strong arms holding her.

  “This is strange. I mean, it’s you, but I almost feel like I’m cheating.”

  He smiled enigmatically and glanced into her eyes.

  “I can come home as a different man every day if you want.”

  “That’s fine, as long as you return to yourself afterwards. So, how do you look under this robe?”

  *****

  With Marc gone from early morning to late evening every day, Laura was bored beyond belief. After the first couple of days passed without disasters she settled down enough to be able to enjoy a book.

  How do other people cope with stuff like this? Maybe I should get a dog? Take up charity work?

  In the evenings, Marc was exhausted, and she filled with energy from doing nothing. She sat on his lap and pretended to be interested in the news, even though she’d seen them at least ten times already. For the feeling of his arm around her waist, she’d watch them a thousand times.

  “I need a job.”

  He stopped playing with her hair.

  “Why? You know we have money, right?”

  Well, he did, and it was sweet of him to share with her. No debate there.

  “Yes, I want for nothing. I’m just a little bored when you’re away.”

  “Find a hobby. You could write, or paint, or design stuff.”

  I wouldn’t know where to start with either of those things.

  He sounded so excited it would be a shame to tell him she lacked talent.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of 7-11.”

  Marc stared with unveiled surprise.

  “No offense to the people working there, but you don’t have to do it for the money. Is it really what you want to do with your life?”

  “No.”

  Not having to work for survival was new to her, and she had no idea what she might enjoy doing. He loved his job, and she sometimes envied his enthusiasm.

  Marc flashed a dazzling smile.

  “You could be my assistant. That’d be so great. You’d keep my scripts in order, bring coffee and stuff, and be with me on the set all the time. We could sneak into my dressing room and have sex.”