“Yeah,” I said absently. “Yeah, cool.” I hung there, starring at her dumbly, silent and unsure what to say next.
“It was nice meeting you, Audra,” she said with a curl on her lip. Kelsie slipped her sunglasses back on her face. “I hope we have a nice six weeks together.”
“Yeah,” I said again. “Totally. Thanks for staying at the Hotel Champlain.” Kelsie laughed demurely. She could tell I was on a different planet.
“Hey Audra,” she said, leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Look, I’m not all that intimidating. I know it can be weird having a Hollywood celebrity around. Have you seen any of my movies?”
“Well, um, no,” I admitted sheepishly. “No, I don’t really like most big budget Hollywood movies.” This gave Kelsie a tickle, causing her to laugh.
“Oh God,” she said. “I get it. I love movies but some of them are just… yuck!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, slumping my shoulders. “I’m not trying to be offensive. I just don’t watch a lot of movies. And though I’ve heard your name before, I don’t really know who you are… if that makes any sense.”
“Perfect sense,” smiled Kelsie. “Audra, that’s perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she affirmed. “Keep that attitude. I’ll catch you later.” Kelsie pursed her lips and turned from me, walking around the desk and looking down to the key in her hand. I couldn’t believe I had acted like such an idiot in front of her. Not only was I probably drooling over her, I also told her that I wasn’t even a fan. Two strikes there. If Jake had seen me act that way, he’d definitely have some things to say. ‘You should have just told her you liked her movies,’ or ‘gush over her and pretend you’re a super fan.’ But I couldn’t. I was crippled by the wonderful air about her.
We didn’t get pretty girls like her around Champlain too often. And as a young and unattached woman myself, I felt a revived sense of excitement building inside of me over the chance of getting to know Kelsie. She represented possibility to me and that feeling was incredibly potent. It gave me a renewed hope.
The town was going movie crazy. Before Hollywood came to town, you’d rarely see anyone walking down Main Street but now the streets were filled with people wandering about, hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity. While I admit that it was quite annoying to me to see people so starstruck, I was happy that the few businesses we had left on Main Street were getting some foot traffic. I had actually met a few of the other actors in the production while sitting behind the hotel reception desk, but none of them struck me like Kelsie did. I vaguely recognized their names, but not their faces. Apparently the male lead was a big deal, and I can admit that he was a handsome guy, but I wasn’t all that impressed.
I was impressed with Kelsie, however. She had a really attractive thing about her. This hippie vibe, free spirited, open. I never really thought of myself as somebody who would go after a girl like that — usually hippies just seem a bit flaky to me — but I couldn’t help the strange feelings that mulled together in my heart. If I had to describe myself, I’d probably say I was a bit of a bookworm, somewhat geeky, ordinary, a little self-conscious, with a smattering of anxiety. I guess the hippie girl is the opposite of that. Maybe that’s what was going on under my skin, some sort of opposites attract thing. I don’t know.
I’d catch myself staring at Kelsie as she sashayed through the lobby, usually flanked by production assistants, people holding clipboards and reciting to her what she should expect for whatever scene they were going to shoot that day. I replayed our initial meeting over and over in my head and I imagined the two of us going to the beach together. I knew the perfect spot to take her. There’s this amazing dune just off the Lake that you can drive up to. It’s on private property, a bit off the beaten path, but I’m able to go because I know the owners. Secluded and beautiful and majestic. I thought about Kelsie and I going there together, wearing our bathing suits, laying out in the sun. I’d steal a look at her every so often, admiring her body, trying to figure out what she looked like under the thin fabric of her bikini. It was a nice daydream to repeatedly think about. It revived a forgotten libido.
Still, even though I had these dreams about this girl, I knew that it would be foolish to actually think anything might happen in real life. I felt she was probably just being nice inviting me out to the beach. Instead, she’d probably go alone or with a bodyguard, or worse yet… with the male lead. Josh Timony, I think his name was. I mean, doesn’t it usually happen that costars of a movie sometimes shack up? Here I was getting all sweet for a girl who probably wasn’t even interested in me like I was so obviously becoming interested in her.
That’s the thing about living in a small town and being a lesbian. Not much opportunity. I hardly knew anyone my age around here anymore, let alone a girl I could try to date. I gave the dating apps a try for a while, but most of the women I “matched” with were 45 minutes to an hour away and I just grew apathetic about it all. This was another reason that I knew I had to get out of Champlain. It was becoming strikingly apparent that I had made a bad decision with my life in sticking around here for so long.
“Look alive!” said Jake, suddenly appearing in front of my desk, knocking me back to reality.
“What?” I said, blinking a few times, Jake’s face coming into my view. “Oh. Hi there, boss.”
“You’ve got a bit of drool right here,” he said, point to the corner of his own mouth.
“Stop,” I said, wiping at my mouth just in case he wasn’t simply teasing me.
“Just wanted to let you know, Audra,” said Jake. “That the production is taking over the ballroom tonight to host a dinner/drinks thing for the cast and crew and they said that we’re invited if we’d like to come by.”
“Really?” I said. “Huh.”
“Are you interested?” he asked. “I know you’re not really a movie type of girl, but it could be fun. They’re catering everything.”
“This sounds like a thinly-veiled ask,” I said. “Like you’re trying to get me to come in to work at night.”
“It could be,” said Jake slyly.
“Yeah,” I said sarcastically. “All right, I’ll come in.”
“It’ll be fun,” he said. “And you won’t have to work too much. Just answer questions if anybody has them.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll have to run home in a bit to get a change of clothes. I don’t want to go to a thing in my work clothes.”
“Leave whenever you like,” said Jake. “Just text me and I’ll come cover the desk for you.”
“I tell you,” I said. “It’s really nice having some extra staff around while we’re so busy. I could get used to not having to vacuum the lobby myself.”
“Don’t,” he said with a smirk. “The handle on that vacuum is perfectly molded to your hand.”
“Like it was made for me,” I mused.
“Like it’s an extension of your arm,” he said.
“Enough,” I bemoaned. “I’ll leave in, like, two hours to get some other clothes from home.” I looked down to the computer screen in front of me to check the time. “Hopefully it won’t be a mess.”
Jake knew what I was talking about and when I said this his face softened and his forehead scrunched up. He leaned in closer to me, like he was about to tell a secret, even though the lobby was empty.
“I’ve told you, Audra,” he said. “If you wanted to move into the hotel, you can stay here for free.”
“That’s just another ploy to get me to work more,” I said teasingly. But his offer always warmed my heart.
“It’s not,” said Jake. “I’m just putting the offer on the table, all right?”
“All right,” I acquiesced. “I just don’t know if my father could take care of that house without me around.”
“It’s not your responsibility,” said Jake.
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ll head home and get a dress or something and
I’ll be back for the event.”
“Thanks Audra,” he said with a smile. Jake dropped is hand and gripped my wrist compassionately. He had sort of become the father figure I always needed. I tried to consider how I would have ended up if Jake was my father. It seemed like a much rosier life.
Although I had seriously considered moving into the hotel, as Jake had offered, I wanted to keep a division in my work life and my home life. Even though my home life was less than ideal. I had been telling myself that once I leave my home, I’m leaving this town for good. I’m not going to move into some apartment or move into the hotel. I’m going to pack my things and get the hell out. It was always something that resided in the back of my mind, but I held myself back. I don’t know what it was. Maybe a sense of duty to my father. Maybe just plain fear for the world outside of what I knew. I mean, if I packed up and left for good, what happens if I fail? I can’t come crawling back. Besides, coming crawling back might even be worse than failing.
As I pulled my old Jeep into the driveway, I surveyed my house, the overgrown yard, the old cars that hung off to one side. The house was in the ranch style, small and narrow, and sort of falling apart. The old cars were there because my father used to be a mechanic. He had his own shop in town and he did all right for a number of years. But as the population declined in town, so did his business, and he eventually had to shutter it when it no longer made enough money to stay open.
It was after his shop closing that my father devolved into his present alcoholic self.
My father wasn’t a loud or angry alcoholic, not physically abusive or anything like that — thankfully — he was just one of those people who had pretty much given up on life and found his only solace in the bottle. He had a few drinking buddies down the block, other men like him who had whatever lives they’d built for themselves decimated by the economy or maybe just their aversion to change, but he didn’t do much with his life beyond smoke cigarettes and drink beer. It was sad, actually. I felt very distant from him. He wasn’t the father I’d grown up with and as much as I’d like him to return to that man, there’s no changing someone who doesn’t want to be changed.
You’re probably wondering about my mother. She’s a piece of work. I still talk to her sometimes on the phone but she’s off doing her own thing. She left us when I turned 18, divorced my father, shacked up with some guy who drove a vintage VW Westfalia bus and cruised out west. They basically live out of that van in the desert, off in Arizona and New Mexico and Utah, really wherever the wind blows them. Do I resent her for leaving? Of course. But I can understand it. I was an accident that tied her to my father, he became an alcoholic, and she needed to get out. Honestly, I probably would have done the same thing.
What I’m most grateful for is that I can see all this. I mean, I could be oblivious to it and my destiny could be to just repeat all the mistakes of my parents. But I found books at an early age and books were a nice escape for me that also taught me there were other possibilities out there. It’s too bad, I guess, that I haven’t really explored too many of those possibilities. Books did teach me that it was okay that I liked girls rather than boys, so I didn’t really have too many internal struggles with that as a kid. On the outside, I just kept to myself and nobody really cared. Sometimes you have to build a wall to protect yourself.
I guess now that I lay this all out, I can see that I’ve had a pretty messed up life and upbringing. But I don’t totally feel messed up, if that makes any sense. It’s like I’ve just accepted this all and continue on anyway. I think that’s about the best you can do seeing as you can’t control what other people do with their own lives. Would I prefer my mother still be around? Of course. Would I prefer that my father wasn’t drinking himself into an early grave? Definitely. But if I spent all my time trying to repair the problems of others, I’d never have a free moment to myself. Some of us just get dealt a bad hand and have to play through it anyhow.
I opened the screen door, stepped through it, and let it close with a hard whack behind me. The house wasn’t a complete disaster, I kept it up pretty good, but I didn’t put any more effort into it than was completely necessary. I didn’t spend the bulk of my time at home anyway. I slept there, I occasionally ate there, and that was about it. My father thought I had a pretty active social life, but I just spent a lot of time at the hotel and at various haunts of solitude that I had found around Champlain, tucked away under a shady tree with a book.
The noise from the screen door alerted my father, who was on the back porch. He stood up from his chair and slowly sauntered inside through the open doorwall. He was skinny, a lot skinnier than he had been when I was younger, and he had a cigarette in his lip and a beer can in his hand. He half-smiled as he saw me.
“Heya Audra,” he said. “You’re home early.”
“I’m not here long,” I admitted. “We’re having this thing at the hotel tonight and I need a change of clothes.”
“The movie star thing?” He walked over to an ashtray on a table and ashed his cigarette.
“Yeah, that,” I said.
“All right,” said my father. It made me sad to be around him. But the way he carried on, I couldn’t imagine that he’d be around all that much longer. His diet consisted mostly of alcohol. Some heavy drinkers end up getting fat, but my father got skinny because he barely ate anything else.
“I’m gonna go get my clothes,” I said and offered a small smile. My father just nodded. I picked up my feet and made my way down the hallway to my bedroom.
Once in my room, I shut the door behind me and breathed out a sigh. I just couldn’t relate to him any longer. It was like he was no longer my father, just some roommate I lived with. I loved him, of course, but I had come to accept who he was and who he was didn’t mesh with who I wanted to be.
My room was small and sparse, mostly unadorned and plain apart from my bookshelf and a handful of things that reminded me of being a teenager. I stepped past my bed and went to my closet, tossing open the door and looking inside. Flicking quickly through my hangers, I landed on a light and breezy seersucker dress that I hadn’t wore in who knows how long. I didn’t really have many occasions to wear something like that dress but here was that occasion upon me. Holding the dress up and taking it in, I couldn’t help but let a smile crack over my lips. It made me feel good thinking that I’d be slipping into something decent.
Then I got the idea to try it on. Why not, right? I mean, what if it didn’t fit anymore? It had probably been at least a couple of years since I’d put it on and it would look pretty foolish if I took it back to the hotel and didn’t end up fitting into it. I quickly stepped out of my shoes and pulled off my socks, unbuttoned my work pants and pushed them down and off, crossed my arms at the hem of my white polo and yanked it off over my head, and then finally unhooked my bra and let it slip down my arms. Standing there now in just my black panties, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror leaning against my wall.
“Hmm,” I mused, sucking in my small belly and standing up straight. I was actually quite tan, tanner than I thought. There was a band of white skin around my chest where my bikini top usually was. Flipping the elastic band down from my panties, I saw white there too. I smiled. The Lake Michigan beach always made me feel happy and it was obvious in my coloring that I was a frequent visitor. I could smell the water, hear the waves crashing, and I could almost feel the sand under my toes. I wished I was laying out in the sun right then and there.
Breaking from my reverie, I deftly slipped into the seersucker dress and pulled it up my body. Adjusting the top of the strapless dress over my chest, I reached around back and zipped it up quickly. I liked the way I looked as I modeled in the mirror for myself. I had forgotten that at one point in my life, I actually enjoyed dressing up somewhat. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that. Of course, I enjoyed dressing down in a pair of cutoffs and a tank over my bikini, looking like a lazy schlub, but this was good too. I could really clean up when I wanted to.
>
I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and held it there for a moment, still admiring myself in the mirror. I felt pretty and that was a nice feeling. It was something I didn’t often feel. Look, I know that a person can exist just fine without getting compliments. That doesn’t mean getting them occasionally, or at least feeling like you deserve one, isn’t a nice gesture. God, had I really been removed from so much social interaction over the years? Had I really been removed from love and romance? It was almost as though, looking at myself in that mirror, that I had woken up from some strange slumber. I guess it was that dress that jostled things around.
The last time I wore it, I remembered, was when I went to a wedding with an old girlfriend of mine. Jane was her name. She was from Holland — the city here in Michigan, not the country — and I was her date to a wedding up on Silver Lake in Mears. It was a casual affair, that wedding, the married couple hosted friends and family in a grouping of cabins on the lake overlooking the dunes across the water. I had worn my seersucker dress for the celebration night and after a few too many drinks late into the evening, Jane and I ended up out on Silver Lake in a canoe and she stuck her hand up my dress and fingered me as she adoringly kissed my neck.
It was an awesome night. And yes, if I remembered correctly… turning to my side, I flipped the bottom of my dress out so I could take a peek at the underside. There was a small wine stain, about the size of a quarter. It brought a smile to my face. Jane and I had knocked a wine glass over as she was pulling the dress off me in our bedroom that night at the cabin.
I was happy in this dress and happy that I could pull it out of my closet for another wear. Sometimes it’s fun to just put on a dress and go out.
Back in my casual clothes, I hefted my backpack up on my shoulder, packed with my dress and a few other things, and made my way out of my bedroom and back toward the front door. I really wasn’t keen to stay at home much longer. I had the hotel on my mind, I had Kelsie on my mind. I was eager to see how things might go.
Hotel Hollywood: A Lesbian Romance Page 2