“Alistair, I want you over by the fountain,” Venner said before Alistair could answer. “Avery, behind me. Merritt, you’re helping Alistair install these flowers. You say, ‘How about we just call it a day.’ Then Alistair says…”
They took their places, and Merritt spoke her lines. After three more takes, Venner let the cameras turn toward Avery. She walked through the Elysium’s arched entryway, carrying—for no discernible reason—a wicker basket full of glitter confetti. She tossed a handful on Alistair’s head.
“Avery.” Alistair knelt and reached into the pocket of his blazer. “When I’m with you, everything sparkles.”
It was so corny…and it was exactly how Merritt had felt before Avery had told her she was marrying Alistair.
Venner called cut. “Goddamn it, Avery, look happier!” He clamped his hand on the back of Avery’s neck. She flicked it off with speed worthy of Iliana’s self-defense classes. “Alistair King just asked you to marry him! And, Merritt,” Venner added, “you’ve got to read joy and jealousy. This is the Holy Grail of wedding proposals. You’re excited but at the same time you’re so jealous you could die.”
That was true.
“Avery’s so lucky.” Venner affected a fake soprano. “And you’re the one who’s supposed to get the guy. How did this happen? Where did you go wrong? But the ring is so big! But you’re so jealous. But the ring is so big.”
He muscled Avery back toward the archway. Alistair knelt in the cascade of white flowers. Avery came in again.
“Make me the happiest man on earth.” Alistair held up the ring.
Avery covered her mouth. She looked like someone witnessing a car crash. She can’t do it in front of me, Merritt thought.
“Maybe it would work better without me,” she said.
“No. You’re the whole reason we’re here,” Venner said. “Every chubby housewife in Ohio is going to see Avery getting the guy and gorgeous Merritt Lessing out in the cold. That’s a fucking portrait of hope right there.”
Merritt wished she could escape. She was witnessing Avery Crown’s wedding engagement over and over again like Groundhog Day. It was high school prom all over again, except this time she was right in the fray, squealing with glee like some coked-up housewife.
“We are not leaving here until I get ecstasy on camera,” Venner said. “Go again.”
Merritt couldn’t watch Avery suffer anymore. She strode across the courtyard and put her arm around Avery’s shoulders. Avery looked up at her with hope in her eyes.
“I wanted to go to you,” Avery whispered. “But Alistair asked me to wait. He said Ponza would just follow us, and he’d harass you, and Al just wanted me to think.”
“You can’t talk about that here,” Merritt said, her lips turned toward Avery’s ear so that only Avery could hear her.
“I don’t care.”
She guided Avery as far away from Venner as she could, which wasn’t far since they were hemmed in by crew members and hydrangeas.
“Look at me,” Merritt whispered. “Let’s just get this next take right so we can get out of here.”
Avery looked down into her basket of glitter, her lips tightening like she was holding back tears. She hugged the basket to her chest. And Merritt felt a wave of sympathy so deep she felt her throat constrict. The old Merritt would have said something glib. The new Merritt only saw Avery’s tears fall, one by one, into her basket, and she knew that nothing in the world was worse than Avery being sad. Even if Avery was leaving. Even if nothing was possible.
They shot the scene again, and Venner said it was perfect, which seemed strange since Avery’s voice quavered with every word and Merritt felt her face set in a grim facade that cracked only for the ten-second bursts between “action” and “cut.” But Venner said it looked like a joy-orgasm (proving once again how unreal reality television was), and the crew nodded, although whether they agreed or were simply hot and tired of packing and unpacking their equipment Merritt could not tell.
As soon as Greg said, “That’s a wrap,” Avery grabbed Merritt’s hand.
“Please come with me.”
Merritt had to go. Avery hurried them up the stairs to the master bedroom of Uncle Oli’s apartment, closed the door, and locked it. She ran to the shimmery curtains and pulled them closed. The room sank into shadows.
“I didn’t kiss him.” Avery was out of breath. “It wasn’t a real kiss. I’ll show you. I’ll kiss you like Alistair kissed me, and you’ll see it was like…like shaking hands or CPR. And I didn’t mean to run away. It all happened so fast. Then Alistair pulled me outside, and he said if I went back to look for you, I’d ruin King and Crown, but I don’t want to do this marriage, and I don’t want you to think that there’s anything between us.”
“I don’t think you kissed him because you’re secretly sleeping together,” Merritt said. “But you’re getting married on September twenty-second in your house in L.A., and your colors are going to be teal and red and you can’t decide whether you want a Delicata Vagrant wedding dress or a Jasmine Culture.”
“Jasmine Culture. And all those dresses make you look like some kind of land-mermaid, and we don’t have a house. They’re renting some model home in this McMansion paradise, and it’s all a publicity stunt, and I tried to call you.” Avery’s words tumbled out like ball bearings spilled across the floor.
Greg had told her they were staying in Portland for an extra week. Venner had cornered her in the Elysium and told her about the marriage proposal. She had to consider it; she owed it to the team. Alistair’s foundation was on the verge of bankruptcy, and this would give him another season or two to get his finances in order. Her fans would love a marriage. The crew needed time to look for work if King & Crown was going off the air. And, yes, getting married to Alistair sounded extreme, but it was really just a simple brand-image solution.
“We’d just be putting a ring on what everyone thinks already. We’re throwing a big party. We can get married, do one or two more seasons, then end it the way it should end. I wanted to wrap it up, not just have it all fall apart. I owe that to Alistair. But if you tell me not to go through with it, I won’t.”
“I think you already are.”
“But we could…” Avery’s face said she knew how hard it would be to turn back now.
“Did you plan this?”
It would be easy to fight with Avery, to make everything her fault, to pretend not to believe her. Merritt sat down with her back against the wall. In that moment she knew: If she were angrier, she could stay with Avery. If she could bring herself to yell at Avery, accuse her of cheating or being a self-involved diva, they might last. If Merritt could throw everything Avery had done back in her face—the prom, the Elysium, the show, Avery’s secrecy, her nomad life—maybe they could be together. They could be one of those couples that bickered and picked on each other and stayed together because nothing better had come along or because all their fussing had worn them out and it didn’t seem worth the effort to find someone new to gripe at. But she didn’t want that with Avery.
“I didn’t plan anything.” Avery knelt before her. “I haven’t planned anything in my life, but I could now. Wait for me to fix this.”
Merritt stared down at her clasped hands. “Waiting? Is that what we were doing for fifteen years?”
She felt only sadness and quiet, like the empty deck of the Astral Reveler. Iliana thought love created more love, but love created loss. No matter what Avery tried to do, they would always end up like this, on opposite sides of their real lives. They would try, and they would apologize, and every time it would get harder until finally their affair ended, and they walked away strangers.
“We forgot this part,” Merritt said. “Those teenage summer romances don’t end with no one getting hurt. They end with a lot of bad poetry and listening to Death Cab for Cutie, and then when you’re grown up you look back and think no one got hurt because you can’t remember who you were before your heart broke.”
<
br /> Merritt heard Avery draw in a sharp breath.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“Sweetie, were we ever going out?”
“I don’t want this to end.” Avery spoke quickly. “I missed you for fifteen years. I don’t want to lose you again. I know that dating me wouldn’t be like dating a regular girl. I know Alistair is worried about us, but he loves me. He and the crew can cover for me. I know it’s going to be weird, but DX can fly you places…fly us places…that no one will find.”
“That sounds like a threat,” Merritt said sadly.
“I know! I don’t think she even talks to the air traffic control tower or whatever, but she can do anything, and she’s been my friend since we were kids. She’ll help us. And I’ll call my mother. I hate her, but I’ll call Marlene and tell her I need to hide a gay affair. She does that. She’s got gay clients. Or I can get things settled with Alistair and the show and I can come out, and we’ll make it work. Please say yes.”
Merritt rose and turned back to the window. “Avery,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to be your second choice.”
“Marrying Alistair doesn’t mean anything. He’s not my choice. None of this is my choice.”
Merritt continued as though Avery had not spoken. “You can’t love the person who says, ‘To have me, you can’t have your own life.’ I watch you every minute you’re on set. You and Alistair are great together. This is your life. What kind of person would I be if I asked you to give that up? And there’s no way we can be together without one of us asking for that. I don’t want to pretend to be your trainer, lie to my friends, and sign nondisclosure agreements. You don’t even want to buy a house. You don’t want a mailing address, and I want someone who’ll stay. I want someone I’m not tying down. I want someone whose life I haven’t ruined by saying, ‘Be my girlfriend.’” Tears blurred Merritt’s vision, putting a filter over everything on the street below. “I can’t do this.”
“I wanted to take you to Taha’a,” Avery said to Merritt’s turned back. She sounded so sad, Merritt wanted to say, Of course. I’ll go anywhere. But she could see beyond Taha’a.
“We would go to those exotic places and stay in a hotel room drinking margaritas with the curtains closed. And then one day we’d get caught, and it would be the end of your career. Or we wouldn’t get caught, and one day I would want to go out for a coffee and a scone with you, and you wouldn’t be able to. Then I’d be the woman who broke up with Avery Crown over a coffee and a scone, and you’re worth so much more than that.” Merritt’s voice was rough. “This was the best summer of my life. Let’s not drag it out until we haven’t talked in nine months and we forget how good this was. Let’s keep these memories perfect.” She turned around and held out her hand to Avery.
“Like your locket!” Avery shot back with surprising ferocity. “You want to put us under a glass dome? In a birdcage? And say this was the past so it’s better? I’m not one of your antiques. I have a future, and we could have a future. We could move forward except that you keep your heart in a box. Is it me who’s not worth fighting for? If you’d found someone better, would you open your heart up? Or will no one be good enough? Is your A-list so short, you’re at the top and you’re the only one on it? Maybe those girls are right. You’re cold. It’s cold to say, ‘I care about you, but you’re not worth it.’ It’s cold to say, ‘Bad things might happen, so I’m not even going to try.’ If you do that, you’ll always be alone.”
Avery had seen the truth, as Merritt had always known she would.
“That’s what you signed up for,” Merritt shot back. “You knew. Of everyone in the world, you knew me best.”
Merritt stepped forward. She meant to kiss Avery, to draw her into an embrace that said, I may be cold on the inside, but I made you hot, a kiss that would leave Avery wanting, a kiss that would make all Avery’s other lovers look like sloppy middle schoolers who had learned to kiss by watching animals mating on the Discovery Channel. But she didn’t manage a kiss. She just clutched Avery, holding her to her chest as though they were the last two lovers on the Titanic.
“I’m sorry,” Merritt whispered.
Then she walked out of the room, out of the Elysium, past Venner, and all the way down to the river, where she stared at water that sparkled for everyone else except her.
Chapter 32
Winter rains came early to Portland. The city had expected another month of crisp leaves and Saturday markets full of heirloom squash. Now rain hit the windows of Hellenic Hardware, spattering the entryway as a group of bedraggled customers hurried in.
“Can I help you?” Merritt asked without looking up or listening for their answer.
Through the old glass she could see the shape of Lei-Ling’s dumpling truck. It was the only spot of color on the street. Strains of Chinese pop music tinkled from a speaker. Nothing about Super Junior-M and Jay Chou said buy more vintage hardware, but she didn’t care. Lei-Ling had even shown her a video by Acrush, a Chinese boy band comprised of cross-dressing girls. They were cute, but they were in China, and Avery was in Los Angeles, getting married to Alistair King in a few weeks. And Merritt was here, in her uncle’s shop, hawking fixtures. She took another brass light switch cover from the pile at her elbow and dipped it in mineral oil.
The door flew open, and Iliana and Lei-Ling rushed in, bringing a wave of rain with them.
“The wind!” Iliana held her coat over Lei-Ling’s head.
“The rain!” Lei-Ling exclaimed.
They looked flushed and happy. The rain was an excuse for hot chocolate and impromptu fires in the barrel behind Happy Golden Fortune.
Lei-Ling looked at Merritt. “Oh, you’re so sad!” She raced to Merritt and folded her arms on the counter, resting her head on her arms and looking up at Merritt. “I want you to be happy. Can I make you a dumpling? I’ll put anything in it you want. Name your five favorite foods. It can be anything.”
“I’m not sad,” Merritt said.
“Starburst?” Lei-Ling suggested helpfully. “Bacon!”
“I’m fine.”
“But you aren’t,” Lei-Ling said.
Of course Lei-Ling was right. Merritt had said goodbye to Avery and walked all the way down to the river. She had stared at the water. It had sparkled in the late-summer sunlight, but it wasn’t sparkling anymore. If you were not in love, winter in Portland was a long, dismal slog. And Merritt wasn’t in love, she told herself. She didn’t even miss Avery.
“Happy? Happy? Happy?” Lei-Ling said, as though Merritt had just forgotten the word.
“Merritt is depressed,” Iliana said, “because she’s made bad life choices.”
“I have not made bad life choices.”
“Why haven’t you moved into the Elysium?” Iliana asked.
“You said living in my uncle’s old apartment was morbid.”
“You’re living in your uncle’s retrofitted office,” Iliana said. “You have a beautiful, three-bedroom apartment.”
“I’m working on the…” She could not think what she was working on. The apartment was special. Avery had made sure of that.
Merritt was saved by a group of customers. Another group rang the bell outside Lei-Ling’s dumpling truck. Lei-Ling hurried outside to provide dumpling happiness for those still able to find cheer in carbohydrates. Once the customers had spread throughout the shop and Lei-Ling was busy at her steamers, Iliana pulled up a stool next to Merritt.
“You want to go over to the dojo? Practice a little?”
“No,” Merritt said. “Thanks.”
“Discipline is good for you. It’s good for everyone.”
“I am disciplined.”
“Would you please just call her and get it over with?” Iliana said. “Nobody can stand you.”
“Who has to stand me? Go hang some chandeliers if you can’t stand me.”
“I’m serious. You’ve been moping around since you told her to get out of your life.”
“I didn’t t
ell her to get out of my life. You make it sound so bad.”
“I don’t make it sound anything. I can’t even take you to the Mirage. You’re miserable. I’m sure she’s miserable. Just suck it up. You’re not going to be any less happy if you call her.”
Merritt knew from experience that that was not true. Being alone was like the brisk, cold days of autumn. Button up your coat and hold your head up, and it was not that bad. Nothing was worse than the empty ring of an unanswered call or the awkward question on the other end. She remembered her mother picking up. Why are you calling, Merritt?
Because it’s my birthday.
Because it’s Christmas.
Because I’m ten and I’m lonely.
“You know, you think your problems are so bad,” Iliana went on. “I get that. They feel bad. But look at me and Lei-Ling. It’s not always easy. We’re not happy every single minute of the day. When we first met she—”
“I called her!” Merritt shot back. “Okay? I called her.”
“You called her?” Iliana looked surprised.
“Of course I called her.” Merritt slumped over the counter, her chin in her hands. “I’m not a total idiot.”
She had been disciplined for a week. For a week, she had considered deleting Avery’s phone number. But a week after Avery left, Merritt had taken out her phone. If a dour, almost-forty-year-old Russian-American aikido sensei could find love with the world’s most optimistic dumpling waitress, Merritt thought, why couldn’t she hope that there was someone in the world who wouldn’t leave her? Why not me? After all, it was she who had sent Avery away, she who had said never, she who had somehow let her mother and the Astral Reveler and all the girls who had dumped her stand in the way of the woman she loved.
Merritt had called, giddy with the prospect of telling Avery she would make the sacrifice. She would be in the closet. She would pretend to be Avery’s trainer. She would go to Taha’a with Avery (and Alistair as cover for their affair). It would be seductively clandestine. She had thrilled with the thought. Avery’s kisses would replace the dull ache in her body. Avery’s tenderness would make up for everything. Merritt would devour her and worship her and, at some point, they would tumble into laughter and Merritt would feel like she was sixteen again.
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