“A line?” The actor shifted in his seat, clearly intrigued. He winked. “I’m guessing it wasn’t from Money City Cha-Cha.”
“Actually, it was something you said in an interview with GQ. My girlfriend was there.” Tom paused, wanting to get the wording right. “She told me you said couples that are together a long time always have the same fight, it just comes out in different ways.”
The actor’s face broke into a grin, dimples faintly visible beneath his scruffy salt-and-pepper beard. “Ah, yes. I’ve said that a lot. Apparently, not only do couples always have the same fight, but old dogs like me always give the same interview.”
Tom chuckled appreciatively.
“My wife and I have been together for, oh, I think it’s going on forty-two years now. Before you get all congratulatory,” he said, waving off the congratulations Tom really was about to offer, “you should know that she and I had a rocky start. But it made me appreciate her more, I think. The difficult things are sometimes the best things, you know?”
Tom nodded. Did he know?
“You still with that girlfriend? Having the same fight?” The man was a well-respected actor, but Tom could instinctively tell he was being sincere.
“I’m supposed to marry her tomorrow.” He tried to toss it off as though it weren’t a big deal, as though the universe weren’t conspiring to keep that day from ever arriving.
“I’d offer you my felicitations, but you qualified that with a supposed to.” He scratched absentmindedly at his chest, looking up at Tom from under bushy eyebrows. “Getting cold feet, son? That’s normal.”
Running a hand over his face, Tom gathered his thoughts, wondering just how much to reveal. He couldn’t very well tell Kenneth Birch he was caught in a time loop. He dug deep until he hit on what he really wanted to know.
No matter what happened in these loops, he kept going back to Megs. And he wanted to make sure it wasn’t out of habit. He wanted to know that what they had was real and worth fighting for. A difficult thing that was also the best thing, as Kenneth had said.
“How do I know if this is right? If I should be with this person or not? Up until recently, it seemed like my whole life had come with an instruction manual. I knew where I was supposed to go, what I was supposed to do. But suddenly it feels like it was the manual for someone else’s life.”
The actor ripped open a sugar packet and dumped it into his coffee, contemplating. “No one’s life has an instruction manual. That’s the best damn thing about it. I choose and you choose and everyone makes choices that have these butterfly effects on everything else—the results are either this exquisite ballet or an avant-garde multimedia melee.”
“Sounds terrifying.”
“I think it sounds beautiful, my friend.”
Tom was, quite literally, on the edge of his seat. He was close to an answer. He knew he was. “So what you’re saying is that committing to someone for the remainder of your existence is either a ballet or chaos?”
“Yes and no.” After shaking salt onto his eggs, Kenneth paused. “The key to a relationship, to a partnership for life, is really quite simple.”
“Oh yeah?” There was no way this could be true. Nothing was simple. That was the one thing Tom knew for sure.
A baritone laugh erupted from the actor’s belly. “Sure it is. All you gotta do is find someone who makes you better and then you’ve got to make her better too. When she tells you something, you evaluate it. ‘Is what she’s saying true? Am I stubborn or flippant or casually cruel?’”
Or a coward, Tom thought.
“And then you try to be better. And when you tell her, ‘You’re being selfish’ or ‘You hurt my feelings’ or ‘You’re prioritizing another relationship and it’s negatively affecting me,’ then she tries to do better. Pretty soon, you get to be my age and the relationship is a hell of a lot easier. Because you’ve done the work.”
Tom ordered a coffee and some toast from the bartender, mulling it all over.
“Mind you,” Kenneth continued, interrupting his thoughts, “if it’s too much work from the beginning, that’s a bad sign. But if things are mostly great, you laugh a lot together, you love a lot together, you genuinely want to spend time together, then the work becomes part of it.”
For the first time in days, Tom’s mind was beginning to clear. He thought about the times he’d assumed he was keeping the peace by outwardly agreeing with his dad when he hated what John was saying. About the dinners with surprise dates his parents orchestrated for him in college. About sticking with law, agreeing to move…every moment he thought he was supposed to maintain these important relationships, even if he suspected it was hurting Megs. And then he tried to imagine what his life would’ve looked like if that trajectory hadn’t existed—or if he’d resisted it.
Would he be a lawyer? Would he still be in New York? Would he sit through unbearable family dinners, buttoned up so tightly he’d forget to breathe?
Of all the things he’d experienced since this loop began, the realization that he’d never been his own person and never would be if he didn’t stand up to his family felt the most important.
Because not making any choices had been a choice all its own.
Even if things were truly over between him and Megs, she’d given him a parting gift—a way he could be better. Braver.
“Thank you,” Tom told Kenneth Birch, meaning it with his whole heart, and he and the actor finished their breakfasts in companionable silence.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Megan
Going for lunch in Friday Harbor was risky. Even though consequences didn’t seem to be a thing anymore, Megan didn’t want to run into Tom. She didn’t want to put Leo through it. However, they had to get out of Roche in order to avoid everyone else, so she’d chosen a small, sexy Mexican restaurant tucked away off the main street.
It wasn’t until they arrived that she made the connection to that Mexican restaurant in Cambridge she and Tom had gone to the night they’d had their first kiss. But maybe the parallel was okay. A way to rewind and press Play on a new story.
In addition to being discreet, the restaurant had the added benefit of meeting both of Leo’s requirements: no franchises, no tourist traps.
Sitting across from each other, they kept grinning broadly, almost laughing, both clearly thinking, I can’t believe we’re here together. She was on a date. With Leo. After twelve years of dating only Tom.
But Megan didn’t want to think about Tom. Not when this beautiful, sun-kissed man was sitting before her.
Their wooden table was one of only a few on an outdoor patio overlooking an alley. If they craned their necks, they could see the marina. A bright umbrella kept the sun from their eyes, which stayed fixed on each other. The setting was romantic in an unexpected way, which was a pretty good metaphor for their whole relationship, Megan thought.
“Tell me more about what’s happening in Belize,” she said once they’d settled in.
“You wanna know what you’re signing up for?” he teased.
“I want to know more about you,” she clarified. “Your life in the present.”
His face lit up as he spoke. Leo wasn’t one to boast and yet it was clear he was proud of how far he’d come. “This whole tours thing started out with me and one other guy—someone I’d met backpacking through Thailand. We started small, just one tour, and now we have a dozen different tours through four different countries.”
“Leo!” Of course, she already knew all this from Tom and her covert late-night googling. Still, it was much more fun hearing it firsthand. “That’s amazing!”
Because it was. Here, sitting across from her, was a shining example of someone who’d decided he didn’t like what his life was looking like and turned it into something entirely new.
“You aren’t doing the actual tours anymore, then?” Her question was innocent on the surface. She wanted to dig a little, to figure out what her life would look like with Leo. As proud as sh
e was of him, Megan worried she might wind up spending days hanging back while he led packs of beautiful twenty-somethings through exotic locations.
His fingers interlaced with hers. “I’m mostly on the business and logistics side right now. But I’m willing to make an exception if there’s somewhere you’d like to see.”
Her stomach fluttered. “I want to see it all,” she answered truthfully.
“You got it.” He took a sip of water and laughed a little into his glass. “Wait, are you still afraid of lizards? Because there’s this water monitor lizard in Thailand that’s, like, six feet long.”
“It’s not weird to be scared of lizards!” Megan fell easily into the conversation they’d had often, what felt like a million lifetimes ago. “They all look invincible with their scaly armor. And like they’re a hundred years old! I don’t mess with anything that won’t die.”
“Hey, hey.” Leo released her fingers to put up his hands, relenting. “We’re all entitled to our irrational fears.”
“I just explained why that fear isn’t irrational,” she said defensively before breaking into laughter.
Their server came by with complimentary chips and salsa. Megan was both ravenous and too overwhelmed—in the best way—to eat. They put in their orders and waited for their server to go inside before turning back to each other, goofy smiles on their faces. Megan’s foot found Leo’s leg and she savored the thrill of being able to touch him whenever she wanted.
“So.” She shrugged and tried not to let her voice get too high or waver with too much excitement. “What happens after Belize?”
He cocked his head; his easy smile still played on his lips. “What do you mean, after Belize?”
“Come on, Leo. I know you love to fly by the seat of your pants, but indulge the planner in me. What happens after we run away to Belize and confirm your tours are going well?”
Possibilities fanned out between them. Megan couldn’t remember the last time she’d had endless days stretched out before her, days not filled by work or obligations or the daily grind. Probably never.
“What do you mean?” he asked again, linking his fingers through hers once more. His hands were rough, scarred by his misadventures. They felt nothing like Tom’s hands. She shook that thought away. “We go to Belize and then…go from there.”
The breeze picked up and they both moved to steady their umbrella, which teetered precariously. A staff member from the restaurant rushed out to adjust and secure it.
When they were alone again, Leo found Megan’s leg with his toes. The tease of contact emboldened her. She wanted to splash in the waves of this new life she was getting. She wanted to plan out their entire future right now.
“Yeah, about that ‘go from there’ business,” she said cheekily, trying to get Leo to give her a more concrete answer. “When we get back from Belize, I’ll obviously need to move out of my apartment…”
“Obviously,” he agreed.
“…and I was wondering where I should put my stuff.”
“Your stuff?”
She shifted in her chair, which tilted on the uneven patio. Spelling it out wasn’t ideal; however, Megan was done with dancing around what she wanted. She didn’t have to skirt issues or play games. This was Leo. Her Leo. “From my apartment. Do I put it in storage or send it directly to your place? Do you still have that apartment in Boston?”
His smile wavered and his eyes widened before he recovered. It happened so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it.
“Yeah. Of course,” Leo assured her. “You can definitely send your stuff to my apartment. We’ll…I’ll make space. Obviously.”
The confidence he’d been exuding had just faltered. She was sure she hadn’t imagined it.
No, that was ridiculous. He came to the island for her. Megan was overthinking things. Leo wanted her to move in with him. He wouldn’t be sitting across from her now if he didn’t.
The entrées arrived and they both dug in; the conversation halted while they ate. Between bites, they flirted like teenagers—he’d raise his eyebrow at her, she’d wrinkle her nose at him. And Megan tried very hard to determine the difference between the excitement and the nerves growing within her.
Once Leo had polished off his first taco, he winked. “Hey, Givens. About this whole Boston thing. You know you’ll have to go easy on me, right? I haven’t lived with anyone in years.”
She caught his calf in the crook of her foot under the table. “I promise I’ll be the best roommate you ever had.”
Suddenly, their light banter dipped with the weight of what they hadn’t been saying. The weight of that one person they hadn’t been talking about.
Tom had been Leo’s last roommate. Leo knew it. Megan knew it.
A pause stretched out between them. It was probably only a few seconds at most but it felt like a whole other time loop could’ve squeezed in and out of it. Megan grew more and more eager to change the subject. She just couldn’t think of a safe one right now.
Which was ridiculous. They had so much to talk about, to get caught up on. Why couldn’t she figure out what those unspoken words were?
Seconds bundled together to become minutes, minutes that felt like hours. Apart from taking her hand in his to kiss her knuckles and say, “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Leo was suddenly being quiet. Or perhaps Megan was.
It was a relief when their server showed up to refill their water glasses, giving them something to focus on. Megan fought to regain the levity they’d started lunch with. And she knew just the right approach. They had years of fond memories to wade through and were finally free to do so without any guilt.
She found his leg with her foot again. “Remember when I convinced you to take that class about museums with me? Thinking we’d be learning about all these different galleries and collections?”
Leo laughed. “But it ended up being about docents and curators and how museums actually operate. Tom made those flashcards for us so we’d pass the—”
He stopped himself. They’d once again invoked the name that they’d been avoiding all morning.
It wouldn’t always be this hard, Megan told herself. She wondered if Leo was telling himself the same thing. Just because their history had baggage didn’t change all the good stuff between them. They simply had to learn to move past it. And maybe one day they really could reminisce without being haunted by Tom’s ghost. She quietly searched for a safe topic to broach in the meantime. Leo beat her to it.
“Well, Givens. You’ve heard all about me and my business. Tell me about you. What’s been going on in the highfalutin world of men’s magazines?”
“Highfalutin?” She laughed at his choice of adjective. This was a safe topic. A great topic. Because there was a lot Megan had accomplished over the past few years that she hadn’t been able to share directly with Leo, even though she’d been dying to. “Did I tell you I was promoted to senior visuals editor at GQ last year?”
“Of course you were.” Leo rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and stared at her adoringly. “It’s awesome—even though that stuff doesn’t matter anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, because you’re saved.”
“Saved?” She smiled quizzically at him.
“Yeah. You don’t have to work for that corporate empire anymore.”
She’d somehow forgotten about that detail. About how running off with Leo meant leaving a lot more than Tom and the Prescotts behind. Of course she knew it meant quitting her job. She just hadn’t thought about it in such a definitive way until now. She sat uncomfortably with the realization.
Why was she feeling uncomfortable? This was what she wanted. “I…”
“I can’t wait to see what stories you tell when you get away from all that. You always wanted to be a filmmaker, right?” Leo pressed. “Wasn’t that the plan ever since undergrad?”
“Since before undergrad.” And here was the opportunity to chase that dream again. Funny h
ow ready she’d been to charge ahead as a kid, and now…she didn’t even know where to start. Pursuing a new career at thirty. People did that all the time. Megan could do it too, right?
“Getting back to the thing you love, that’s gotta feel good,” Leo said.
Megan nodded, suddenly needing to clear her throat. “Yeah, I just have to figure out how to get back to it.”
“Hey.” He took her face gently in his hand, cold from the condensation on his water glass, and tilted her chin up. “You don’t have to figure that out alone. We’re in this together, Givens. You and me.”
Megan imagined herself buying new (or, more likely, used) equipment. Waiting in the emptiness she’d always felt before a new idea revealed itself. That could be exciting. And she loved the way Leo said you and me.
“I’ll need funding—once I get the idea,” Megan said, almost to herself.
“You of all people must have some savings,” Leo said. “You were always the responsible one.”
The comment was true, though Tom-adjacent, making it edge the danger zone. Leo was the adventurer, Megan was the responsible one, and Tom had been the optimist, the life preserver when the other two started to drown.
“I live in New York,” Megan reminded him. “The city that eats savings for breakfast.”
“So you’ll figure it out.” Leo waved her concerns off with the ease of someone who’d never met a DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY bumper sticker he didn’t like.
“Yeah, I’ll figure it out,” Megan agreed, tiny fears gathering and rising.
“The important thing is that you’ve got your life back. You get to do what you want to do. To help people. Make an impact. Change the world by changing people’s minds.”
“Yeah…” She nibbled at her bottom lip.
“You can finally jump off that corporate ladder you’ve been chained to.” His tone was teasing, but his words still nagged and she couldn’t figure out why.
He wasn’t wrong. This was what Megan had wanted to do for ages—be adventurous and a little reckless. Say goodbye to all the compromises and concessions she’d made and do what she wanted.
The Rehearsals Page 20