by Roxy Harte
I reread the letter. She wants to see me again, but there is no clue as to how long she will be away. A day? A week? I leave for Tokyo in two weeks. If she was going to be gone that long, her note would have said so, right?
Friday finds me watching the clock and counting down the minutes until it’s time to go to O’Leary’s. Although I’m miffed that Geri still hasn’t called, it hasn’t kept me from trying to call her—several times a day. She’s out of the calling area. Still.
I convince myself that she will be at O’Leary’s and I’m not prepared to find her seat empty. I have so much I need to tell her. But then I keep thinking that I shouldn’t spring everything at once…
I walk cautiously to the table and Tina pulls me into a hug, telling Meg, “See, I told you she’d come. She wouldn’t leave me solely to your company a second Friday in a row!”
I smile and hug both women, trying to act surprised, but not too surprised when I ask, “Geri isn’t coming?”
They look at each other then back at me. Meg manages to ask, “Didn’t she tell you? Last-minute deal. The owner of a huge eco-friendly tourism group in British Columbia is about to lose his shirt and everything else of any importance to him and he’s asked Geri to bring her company in as a partner. So, right now, I’d say she’s whale watching off the coast of British Columbia.”
Tina adds, “We’ll be lucky to see her before Labor Day.”
“Wow.” Labor Day? For a second I get lost in the misery of not knowing when I will see her again, but then the businesswoman in my head charges to the front of my brain and suddenly I’m asking, “Is that a wise choice? Has she really thought this through? If he’s about to lose his shirt, she’d be insane to bail him out!”
Tina nods and Meg supplies the details. “We told her the same thing. She’s already two jumps ahead in the game. Seems he made some really bad investments, totally unrelated to the business, but using the business’s assets as collateral. His business is sound, actually from what Geri learned, it’s better than sound.”
“But, if he screwed up once, she really shouldn’t partner with him.”
“She has no intention of partnering. She went up there to buy him out,” Meg whispers and I’m not sure who we’re keeping the secret from. “Give me your cell, I’ll program in the landline number we can call if there are any emergencies here.”
I hand her my cell, wondering if missing Geri constitutes an emergency and also why Meg has an emergency number and I don’t. “But have you talked to her recently?”
“Not since early in the week. She called to say she was leaving and gave us quick details,” Meg says. “Didn’t she call you? I was under the impression you two were an item.”
“I keep missing her calls,” I admit, not volunteering that all thirteen of her attempts happened over the course of a couple of hours.
Tina lifts her glass. “So here we sit, not risking our necks on an adventure. Cheers to us. And cheers to her since she’s too busy having the time of her life to be here with us.”
Meg clinks her glass. “Cheers.”
It becomes evident that I don’t have a drink in hand and a waitress is flagged down to bring another round plus one. I hurriedly correct, saying, “Can you just bring me an O.J. on ice?”
“Orange juice?” Meg asks. “Really? Aren’t you taking your health kick a little too seriously?”
I smile and I know that my face is giving away more than I want it to.
“What?” Tina asks, picking up that a secret might be involved. “You’re up to something.”
“Well, I do have news.” I have a moment’s pause, thinking that Geri should be the first one to hear, but then I just as quickly remind myself that if she could go on an extended business trip without talking to me about it, I’ve wasted way too much time worrying what her reaction would be to a baby.
I sigh, weighing the decision of telling them everything with a lot of internal pros and cons. I decide that there is no sense waiting. “I’m seeing a fertility specialist. I’ve decided I want to try to have a baby.”
Both women’s jaws drop. Stunned silence is the reaction. I guess by now I shouldn’t be surprised that stunned silence seems to be the only reaction I’m going to get, though Meg finally manages to murmur, “Holy cow,” before taking a long swallow of beer, and Tina’s “Wow,” is totally inaudible.
Meg recovers first. “My God, did you swear Geri to secrecy, or what? I can’t believe she didn’t say anything about this.”
“You haven’t told her,” Tina states, not hiding the condemnation in her tone.
“You’re right. I wanted to be absolutely positive of my decision before I told anyone.”
“Huh,” Tina grunts. “So, I guess that means you’re absolutely positive. When are you going to tell Geri?”
I sigh. “I guess when I get a chance to talk to her, but it will be after the fact if she doesn’t get home before Labor Day. The first implantation of eggs will be in about a month.”
“Eggs?” Meg squeaks.
I nod, explaining, “I’ve agreed to being implanted with two eggs each attempt, even though the doctor wanted me to have four embryos implanted to increase the chance that one would implant.”
“Are you rushing things? Maybe you should slow down a little. Summers are always busy for Geri,” Tina defends. “She does run a travel agency. This trip is just a little extra insane—”
I lift my hand, stalling any further forthcoming excuses. “I don’t have all summer to make the decisions I have to make right now.”
“You can’t wait until she gets back?” Meg asks. “I kind of thought from what Geri said that you two are…together.”
“Huh,” I say. News to me. “Honestly, my decision to have a baby has nothing to do with Geri. Our dating has only been casual at best. The fact that the two of you knew she was going to be gone months and I didn’t just illuminates the truth for me. I’m not getting any younger and besides…”
Both women tilt their heads expectantly.
I shake my head and assure them that it’s nothing.
“Simone! You’re killing us,” Meg begs. “What else is going on?”
I’ve never been good at keeping secrets and I usually use my friends to bounce ideas off. “I’m leaving for Tokyo soon to spearhead the start of a new production company.”
Their reaction is predictable. They scream, “What?” at the same time.
I don’t leave them in the dark, I figure I might as well tell them everything. “I’ve decided to retire from acting…” I look at them both, waiting for their reaction, which is quickly ecstatic. Tina bounces quietly in her seat, clapping her hands, but Meg whoops and grabs me in a tight bear hug. “Yeah! Now you can get on with your life!”
Am I the only person on the planet who thought I was living before? I shake off the irritation and take a sip of the orange juice as soon as it is set on the table. Tina realizes the full impact of what I’ve said first. “Wait, this new production company is in the porn industry, isn’t it?”
I nod. “It’s what I know. I’m partnering with Simon to start up an Asia-based adult-film company.”
Meg and Tina share a look and both nod rapidly, like a nervous tic. I worry that they may be having a seizure, but then they are both talking too fast, and I can’t separate who is saying what, but the gist of their message is that I should call the emergency number. Tina reiterates, “Now.”
“Now?” I ask.
They both say together, “Now!”
I get my cell out of my purse and scroll through the numbers to find Geri’s emergency number. I dial and a woman other than Geri answers. I freeze, stunned, and hang up. After several minutes of hyperventilating, I try again and listen to how the phone is answered and breathe a huge sigh of relief when my brain registers that it is probably a secretary answering a business line. “Could I speak to Geri, please?”
“I can take a message, but honestly, unless it’s an emergency, she won’t receive i
t until she gets back from the expedition.”
“How long will that be?”
“Six to eight weeks?”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” Two months?
“Do you want to leave your name?”
Oh shit. Do I? I really don’t know how Geri would feel about her secretary knowing a famous porn star was calling her. “No, that’s okay.”
“You didn’t leave a message?” Tina demands.
“There didn’t seem to be a point. Your Labor Day prediction seemed right on target.”
“So, you’re going through with this…without her opinion.”
I laugh, not finding the humor. “Are we talking about the baby or my career move? Because for one, Geri has yet to discuss her business with me. She comes, she goes—”
Tina interrupts me, emotion rolling off her in waves. “That’s not fair, Simone. Geri has worked very hard to get where she is.”
Meg touches Tina’s shoulder, trying to be a calming force, and even though I see the gesture and know our conversation could escalate into a fight fairly quickly, I can’t hold back. “I’ve worked very hard too.”
“I’m sure Tina didn’t mean to imply you haven’t,” Meg soothes, but Tina is quick to say exactly what she’s thinking. Head shaking, she demands, “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying so hard to ruin everything when something good is finally happening for you?”
My jaw drops. “Something good?”
Tina and Meg both realize that it’s too late for an apology. The truth of how Tina feels is out and my feelings are hurt.
One week after Geri’s disappearing act, I receive a postcard. It was written, according to the date she wrote on it, the day after she left.
S,
I can’t believe the timing of this trip and I hope that this note doesn’t take forever getting to you. I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you already.
-G
“What?” I flip the card over, looking for more words, and find a picture of a whale leaping out of the ocean and over a kayaker who looks small and fragile in comparison. It’s breathtaking and terrifying to imagine Geri kayaking amongst the whales.
I talk to the postcard. “That’s it, G? Really?”
I poke the picture of the kayaker. “Because it sure would be nice to know what you are thinking! What you are feeling! Or exactly when I can expect to see you again!”
I reread the two sentences again. She wants to see me. She can’t wait to see me.
And I realize that I feel exactly the same way. I’m suddenly glad for the trip to Tokyo. It will take my mind off of missing Geri. I can’t imagine sitting around looking at four walls, waiting for her to get back into town.
Chapter Twelve
Tokyo shouldn’t be such a culture shock, I mean, it is a big, noisy, modern metropolitan city and we have lots of those in the United States, and outside the city is a mountainous landscape similar to what I’ve just left.
Did I mention that Tokyo is the largest city in the world?
The subway lines are color-coded on my map and it should be easy to get around, but every time I face the trains, I feel like I’ve spent ten minutes spinning in circles and still haven’t righted myself yet since the last one hours ago.
It isn’t just the trains making me slightly insane. Cars and people and bicycles. The sudden impact on my brain is the noise level…followed by the fact that it really is a very clean city. But that was all overwhelmed by the number of cars, the vast number of pedestrians who are always walking, walking, walking, and the bicycles lined up outside of buildings.
In the first few days, I found that taking the alleys was so much more preferable to the main, heavily populated sidewalks, and so now, after studio time, I explore the parts of Tokyo that I suspect tourists never see. I find my way around with English maps and a GPS. I’ve gotten lost twice, both times walking, and found myself looking mostly up, probably why I got lost. Delicately painted paper lanterns line the streets, a stark contrast to the flashing neon that is everywhere. It is a clash of two cultures, one ancient, one modern.
There are familiar sights, like a line of Coca-Cola machines, but the other signs, boasting brightly colored calligraphy that is utterly beautiful, are for the most part, unreadable.
Everything and everyone is foreign to me and I find myself homesick.
Most days I’m fine, but at night, after the filming is done, I start thinking too much about the long-term and the commitment I’ll be required to make if this company takes off. I’ll need to relocate. I try to imagine raising a baby here, but honestly, trying to imagine living here even short-term is hard.
The cultural differences are so vast. And so many people. It doesn’t help that I’ve always felt smothered by the crowds. But the hardest part, the worst part, is thinking about being here without Geri. Meg and Tina too, but mostly Geri, even though I’ve convinced myself that a relationship doesn’t seem to fit in with the current reality. Her life is pulled between Seattle and Canada, mine, straddling an entire ocean with one foot firmly in Seattle and the other in Tokyo.
I find myself thinking about Geri. I wonder if it is normal to think about someone so much. I wonder where she is, what she’s doing, and try to forget that there was a whale in the same body of water as that kayaker. God, Geri.
I cannot imagine not seeing her again. At night, I sleep and dream about her kisses. I really feel like if I miss out on this opportunity to be with her, I may never get another chance. I will not say at love.
No email. No phone call. Nothing from Geri. I can’t believe that she is so remotely isolated that she can’t call, or email…or something.
Damn it, she left without telling me she had to leave…
That doesn’t seem to bode well for long term, does it?
And I left Seattle without telling her, not even leaving her a message on her emergency line.
The debate of are we in a relationship or not is an endless one in my mind. Better to not think about it. But then that is easier said than done.
Two weeks into filming, I decide that running the show is much more involved than being the porn star. Being a producer, the work is never-ending, and sometimes monotonous. There are only so many hours of watching back-to-back blowjobs that can actually lay claim to being entertainment value. Still, I’m enjoying myself immensely. I have a hand in everything from script to wardrobe to casting.
My biggest problem with adjusting has been the cultural differences, especially when many of the women, who really are of legal age, but because of their Asian petite stature and unbelievable cuteness, look younger than even the youngest-looking adult actresses back home. It makes me nervous, watching them, thinking that men are going to watch them and want them because they are so frail, so petite, so youthful. And the innocence factor is further pandered to by the many scenes involving knee socks and shiny, patent leather shoes. The knee socks are tough to take, though they seem to be worn regardless of whether meant to complement a schoolgirl’s plaid skirt and white blouse or to strike contrast to the woman’s frail nakedness. It’s cultural, I remind myself. It’s okay. Why do I have to keep telling myself that this is okay, if it is?
That is the grinding part for me. The bondage is fine. I love the rope and the manacles and the stretcher bars, mostly because they aren’t being used on me. I’ve learned a new appreciation while here, especially for the rope bondage. They call it Shibari and it is an art form. And honestly, from a purely aesthetic view, it is lovely to see a naked woman bound. I get it now, here, I didn’t before.
Then there is the sheer workload. Jetlag is killing me, at least that is what I tell myself, because I’m tired and cranky. Production is way off schedule and I know how easily time could get away from me, every day has a new distraction, a new problem. It doesn’t help that nothing has gone right on set all morning.
My email today held two posts from Simon, required appearances and social engagements that I would have to attend to fulfill my con
tractual obligations with Wet City. And there was one post from Dr. Abrams’ office with date confirmations for the necessary appointments to make a baby. The first, for tomorrow, will have to be rescheduled, which frustrates me, because I really thought I’d be home by now. I’m not sure what will happen if I reschedule everything, essentially delaying every step by one month…and will I even be able to keep to the new schedule once it is in play? I really want a baby, the question seems to be how to fit making that baby into my life. Preliminaries should not be taking this long.
I try to remain open-minded during each scene, even when two baby octopuses are carried on to the set. I grab the translator by the collar. “Please tell me that isn’t lunch.”
“Not lunch, for the next scene.”
He points at page four. I look at my page four, seeing nothing about octopuses on my page four. I do have a notation though, manacle play, circled in bright red ink.
“No, Ken.” I call him Ken because his Japanese name is unpronounceable and to keep from repeatedly offending him, we each took nicknames—he Ken, me Barbie. He thought I was hilarious. He assumed our nicknames allude to the fact that I look like Barbie, but no, he really does look like the Ken doll I had when I was twelve, his hair lightened from his natural black to a shade that is an auburn brown, but it is the hacked cut that is wild and messy that makes him uniquely Ken. I was glad when he had the good humor to go along with it, because I couldn’t spend two weeks trying to pronounce his name and doing a horrible job of it.
“Bondage next. Right? Manacles?”
He laughs so hard his cheeks spot red and tears leak out as he doubles over. “Bar-bie! Ha, ha. Not manacles, tentacles.”
One of the models squeals and I turn around in time to see an octopus tentacle wrap around a nipple. My jaw drops. I thought I understood our many cultural differences, but I was wrong. The two models giggle delightedly, each taking a wiggling octopus in hand and I turn away, because I really don’t want to know what they plan to do with them. One of the girls screams and I turn back, imagining the worst, blood and guts, but no, the octopus has merely gotten overly curious and has the suckers from one of its tentacles attached to the back of her neck. When she pulls it free, there is a line of dark red marks on her neck. Octopus hickeys. Great.