by Tracy Ewens
Reality, at least the one he wanted, was sitting next to him, holding his hand under the table as the groom’s sister tinkled her glass to announce a toast. West didn’t have a whole lot of experience with commitment and he’d never been in love before Meg, but he knew of love. He’d watched his parents navigate bills and deal with his brothers and all their different phases. They raised four boys and still appeared to enjoy one another. They laughed a lot and when they fought, they went hard and made up quickly.
West had not realized he’d been taking notes, but he supposed all kids learned how to love from their family and friends. He’d never thought about a family of his own, and he wasn’t exactly entertaining the idea now, but he did know that he wanted Meg in his life along with the freedom and fun she brought to it.
He needed to bring something to her life if this was ever going to work. The wedding was a start. The guests clapped as the best woman speech ended with laughter. West glanced over at Meg. Her dress was incredible, but honestly he’d missed her so much during the week, he’d have wanted her even in a burlap sack.
“Everything all right?” Meg leaned in, coconut mixing with the champagne on her breath. When he didn’t answer, she stole a tomato off his salad and searched his expression.
“Have I ever taken you on a date?” he asked.
She nodded and took another sip of champagne. “The bridge was the greatest date of all time.” She leaned in closer, her breath on his ear. “And then there was the weekend date on the Tony Bennett bed—that’s a favorite too.”
His whole body went on alert as his mind filled with thoughts he was not able to share with her while several hundred people were around and expecting their best behavior. “I meant a real date. Dinner, a movie.”
“You know, now that you mention it, there is this new movie I want to see next year. Hot guy, fast cars.”
He took her hand, above the table this time. “I’m serious, Meg.”
Her smile dropped and while he was sad to see it go, he was surrounded by her family and friends. His life, the crazy moments they shared so far stood in stark contrast to the abundance of warmth, date nights, and dog walks in the park that swirled around them. West needed to know if he’d given her any of that and if not, he needed to get to work.
“No. We have never been on a real date.”
The truth hit him with a slap, but then again, her honesty usually did.
“Now, if it’s any consolation, I’ve never asked you on a proper date either until this wedding, and you’re here. I think wedding dates count for five regular dates.” She took another tomato. “So, you’re ahead of the game. Best boyfriend ever, in fact.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” She kissed him, held his face, and took more. “No complaints, Mr. McNaughton.”
His name, his family. How did she know what he needed or where his mind was? She was a photographer, used to observing instead of showing and that must include him too.
Maybe she could keep her travel assignments to one week. Maybe this last installment of Full Throttle would be the last. That was a lot of maybe, West thought as he considered the guests who were laughing and enjoying normal.
“So, Westin Drake.” Meg’s oldest sister Hollis switched seats with her husband and assessed the man she thought West was. He was used to getting the “once-over,” as Aunt Margaret liked to say when she first saw him on one of her visits. “Let me look at you, Wes. I need to give you the once-over like in the John Wayne cowboy hat movies.” The fact that his aunt was wearing a flowered party dress and drawling like a western icon might have seemed strange to most people, but she got a kick out of putting things together like that, stuff that didn’t belong. West’s mom said it was how her brain healed after the accident, “kind of jumbled,” as she put it. The whole experience of growing up was jumbled for West too, so he and Aunt Margaret had gone well together.
The woman assessing him now was not Aunt Margaret. Hollis Jeffries was a powerhouse. She had a commanding air, similar to West’s oldest brother. It was the first-in-everything air. But in an arm wrestling match, West had a feeling Hollis would kick Boyd’s ass. And yet with all that attitude, West knew from Meg that Hollis had a soft inside. “She’ll bite you if you ever try to touch it, but it’s in there,” Meg had said one night when she was showing him pictures on her phone.
“Hollis Jeffries Locke,” West replied, hoping his acting skills were masking his need to be liked, especially by Meg’s family. He tried to muster up a John Wayne stare for Aunt Margaret, but she’d been gone awhile now and he couldn’t remember.
“Not a huge fan of the car movies,” she said.
West looked to Meg, who glared as if she were trying to set her sister on fire. Ah, you gotta love siblings, he thought.
“I did, however, love you in that movie you were in before the whole hot and dangerous thing took off.”
“I…” West was at a loss. No one ever talked about that film. Ever.
“You owned a pet store. It took place in Brooklyn and there was something wrong with your character.”
“Schizophrenic.”
“Yes. That was a brilliant film. He made all those weird lists on scraps of paper.”
West nodded.
“Why haven’t I seen that?” Meg asked.
“It was never in theaters. I saw it at Sundance and I remember looking for it, but it never came out. You weren’t Westin Drake back then.”
West’s brow furrowed and he glanced at Meg again. “She does have superpowers.”
Meg’s smile grew wide and she nodded. “I told you.”
“How did you know it was me? That was the first and last film that I was billed as Wes McNaughton. I was picked up for Full Throttle six months later.”
“That’s a shame.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
“Hollis, not today,” Meg said.
“It’s the truth. You should appreciate that, goddess of truth. You must see this film. It took everything at Sundance. Why wasn’t it released?”
“The production company folded. They were stretched too thin. Entered it and then by the time Sundance came around, there was no money left to move. A big studio was never going to take a chance on a film like that, so it died.”
“Another shame. Well, I wanted to come over and tell you to be kind to our baby sister. She thinks she’s a badass, but she’s not.”
“Can’t imagine where I get that from,” Meg said.
“Probably Sage.” Hollis stood.
Meg snorted a laugh, a champagne haze filling her beautiful eyes now.
“West, help her with project normal, will you?”
“Project normal?” Hadn’t they just been talking about being normal?
“Yes. We provided the guilt to get her home, to quit her job. Now all that’s left is for you to sweep her off her feet and we won’t have an empty seat at the Thanksgiving table.”
West could feel Meg’s exhale of breath across his neck. Drawing on Mr. Hernandez’s voice and movement training, West smiled, giving the air he knew Meg had quit her job. Knew that she wanted to make a life, a home, in the city. Of course he knew. They were a couple. She loved him. Didn’t she say she never lied to…
West tried to remember where the men’s room was and stood from the table without another word. Hollis had left them and he needed air. They were on an open rooftop and he needed air. Not a good sign.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Meg attempted to justify through the happy bubbles in her head. Leave it to Hollis to drop a bomb at a perfectly magnificent reception. West seemed caught off guard, but that quickly morphed into downright stricken. She couldn’t tell if he was nervous that she wouldn’t be jet-setting off soon and therefore preserving his own schedule, or if the tense shift in his jaw was because she’d lied. Withheld the truth, that sounded better. Meg knew better. No matter how small, no matter how unintentional, lying was never a good idea.
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�d known it the first day in his car when she’d lied to bring her ego on par with his. She’d had fleeting feelings when he made comments about her flying off or when he said, “you’ll be gone soon too.”
It was a power thing, she knew that now. If she still had one foot out the door, real or inferred, she would be willing to throw it all away, throw him away at a moment’s notice. Traveling Meg was safe. Adventure Meg wasn’t thinking of buying a house, wondering if she should drive down to LA and surprise him on set. Exciting Meg wasn’t just a little out of reach and not letting Westin Drake anywhere near her heart.
That’s why she’d withheld the information that she was jobless, sappy over her niece and nephew, and had recently downloaded a copy of Grow Your Own Garden onto her e-reader. Loving West was a nonissue for National Geographic Dynamo Meg. The problem was, she no longer wanted to be that person. She simply hadn’t figured out how to tell him who she was, and now he was gone.
Meg swallowed, looking around as if everyone in the room had read her thoughts. Placing her napkin on the table, she went to find her date.
“He went that way.” Two women Meg didn’t recognize pointed toward the stairs. She nodded and kept walking. Oddly helpful when everyone in the room knew your date, Meg thought with annoyance. Her humor was gone.
She finally reached the lobby and still no sign of West. She slid down into a chair that resembled a big fuzz ball under a mirror next to the bathrooms, prepared to wait, when West took the seat next to her. Meg closed her eyes.
“It wasn’t a lie.”
“But it was.” His voice was steady and a touch cold.
God, she hated lying, and being caught in one, no matter how unintended, sucked.
“I came home to try to make a living with my photography. I wanted to be closer to my family and I was… well, I needed to… buy a toaster.”
West said nothing for what felt like an eternity, so she glanced over at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. First it was to balance out my ego in your backseat and then things became complicated and I… don’t know.”
“Hard to have a toaster in a tent, I’d imagine.”
Humor was a good sign, she thought, nodding.
“Is it that I’m not as exciting anymore? You know the whole idea that I’m making a life and you’re… not wanting that. Is that why you’re pissed?”
“I’m not pissed, and I have a life. It’s a bizarre one, but it’s mine. You had a life when you were gone, too, Meg. You want something different now. That doesn’t make what you had wrong.”
“Different from what you want, though?”
He seemed thrown by the question, and Meg decided that might be an answer.
“I don’t know. I’m still wondering if you love me.”
“What?”
“You said you don’t lie to people you love. So, I’m confused.”
“That’s a little gray.”
“The love or the lie?”
“The lie. It was withholding information and you assumed.”
“Ah, so it’s my fault.” West propped his feet out in front and crossed them at the ankles, as if they were sitting on a park bench in the middle of spring.
She faced him, touched his arm. “I don’t want to be left behind.”
“No one wants to be left behind, Meg.”
“Well, I do things to keep that from happening.”
He said nothing.
“I love you. That’s not a lie. But, I did lie about my job, which I never do, just to clarify, but I lied this time probably because things feel good and I’m scared to change anything. It’s like snowboarding. You and I are on a sweet run and if I change direction, or you realize I was never going in your direction, I’ll fall on my ass.”
“And take me with you?”
“Probably.”
West sat up, faced her, and pulled both of her hands to his lips.
“I haven’t been snowboarding in twelve years. Insurance—while I’m under contract—forbids it, but if I remember correctly, the best part is moving down the mountain, through the trees. If you, if we, fall, I think we can simply get back up.”
“I’m sorry.”
He stood, offering his hand, and Meg took it in a way that felt as if she was committing to more than a simple ride in an elevator.
“I know. I love you.” He pulled her hand under his arm as they walked toward the elevator.
“I love you too. I think they took our dinner plates.”
“There’s still cake,” West said as the metal doors closed behind them. He held her from behind and kissed her neck.
“I thought you couldn’t have cake while you’re shooting?”
He switched to the other side of her neck and Meg felt them slide back into their normal rhythm.
“I’ve been thinking that Nick Shot should go through a rough patch for this movie. Pack on some weight, get all fat and happy.”
Meg laughed as the elevator opened on to the rooftop in time for them to see Anna and Dane take to the dance floor.
“Is that a character choice?” Meg pulled him toward the music, ignoring a couple of iPhones strategically pointed in their direction.
“I think so. Nick Shot, normal guy.” He took her in his arms and they danced slow and then fast, silly and serious. Meg held on, felt a soft breeze swoosh past them, and remembered she was a good skier.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Less than three days after sending her sister and Dane off for a surprisingly short honeymoon and kissing West until he almost missed his plane back to LA, Meg stood offstage at the Herbst Theater in downtown San Francisco waiting for her introduction.
Hers was the second TED talk of the evening, so she had some time. She preferred the more intimate setting of the historic theater. No platform, no theme music. Meg smoothed her hands down the cashmere poncho West had surprised her with the Sunday after the wedding. The tag, from some fancy store in Beverly Hills, described it as an “infinity cape,” but when West whipped it out of the shopping bag, he declared that if she was staying put, she needed a California poncho too. Deep purple and so soothingly soft, Meg had a hard time taking it off. Even Amy approved when she met her early at the theater and introduced her to a man in a turtleneck who wanted her to take some photographs of his football players. Meg was gracious and asked him a little more about the project. He told her he was the manager for the USC Trojans and had heard from Dane Sivac that she was looking for a challenge. Amy was practically dancing in her high heels and Meg found she was, in fact, ready for a challenge. They shook hands and Amy walked him up the center aisle of the theater to do what she did best: “close the deal.”
Things were starting to fall into place. Meg could feel it.
She’d gone to Rudolpho for a little polish before her big day and to her surprise, he left her hair wavy. “Suits you,” he’d said. “A little spritz and you’re off to change the world.” It had been five months since she’d walked into R House, intimidated and unsure. She now knew Rudolpho wasn’t some Oz-type figure behind a curtain. He was a man who understood the importance of details, Meg thought as she stood in the darkness watching the small chandeliers casting buttons of light on the audience.
Normal people were no different from actors. No matter where a person came from, they were strangers, veiled under a mask of their choosing. The human part, where people connected, was in the details.
R House was the shiny cover of a man born in Portugal, who moved to the United States alone and learned to cut hair. His salon was luxurious. That’s what made him a success, but Meg counted herself lucky that she knew Rudolpho had a pug named Curly and a fairly unhealthy obsession with the LA Lakers.
Her photographs were often lauded for their connection and the way she managed to make the viewer feel as if they were right there. “They were intimate,” one reviewer said of her gallery exhibit. Despite their mass, Meg found it easy to connect with animals. She res
pected their boundaries and they climbed right up her lens and into her being. Animals didn’t know how to be anything other than what they were and they had a shared respect, a willingness to accept, that Meg had found fascinating.
Humans were a little trickier. One, in particular, allowed brief glimpses behind his mask, but not often, and Meg was starting to think it would never be enough. She couldn’t blame West for being careful. She wasn’t exactly comfortable baring her soul either, and no one was hunting her with a camera or a microphone hoping she’d screw up. She understood why West never told her about the independent film Hollis raved about, and she even pretended not to notice the flash of panic when he realized she wasn’t going away. He loved her, Meg knew that, but love wasn’t the same as intimacy. She needed to know him. That was how she was wired and since returning home, the need to connect had only grown stronger. West would have to let her all the way in and Meg had a sinking feeling he’d been behind his mask for so long, he wasn’t sure how to come out.
Are you wearing underwear?
Meg jumped at the text that came across her phone. She thought she’d turned it off but looked down and was glad she forgot. West. She almost said his name out loud, but instead walked farther into the wings for some privacy.
M: Who wants to know?
W: Your man.
She lost her words and wit for a moment at the thought of West’s body. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel him against her, but that was not a good idea right before a TED talk.
W: I’m having my nipples airbrushed again and I thought of you.
M: That should be on a Hallmark card.
W: Yeah? I’ll have Hannah call them.
Meg chuckled and remembered where she was.
W: So, are you?
M: Yes.
W: That’s a shame.
M: No, it’s really not. I don’t think the older guy that’s introducing me would be as generous as you were.
W: Did you just call me… generous?
Meg shook her head.
M: Don’t celebrities need to worry about people hacking their phones?