Trouble Me

by Beck Anderson

  “Fine.” I cross my arms over my chest and pout.

  We get in the elevator, and Tucker moves into business mode. They’ve got another location shoot today, outside a diner. “I heard from Aaronson last night. He texted me and said the Dubai boys are on set today. Don’t let him distract you. You do your job and follow the shooting schedule the way McDougal set it up.”

  I don’t understand why Tucker sounds so peeved. “What would Aaronson try to do?”

  Andrew shakes his head. “He’s moved scenes around before, screwed up the shooting schedule, just to shoot something flashy for investors.”

  Tucker rolls his eyes. “Last movie he produced, the second-unit director quit because he meddled so bad. He’s such a—”

  “Dick?” I offer. “That’s his nickname, huh?”

  “Jordan the dick. Sad, but true.” Andrew steps off the elevator in the lobby. “Okay, Kells, we gotta go.” He checks his phone. “She came back in the building right about at this time last couple of days. Keep your eyes peeled.” He kisses me quickly and heads toward the front doors. Tucker whispers into the cuff of his jacket, which means someone else is bringing a car around. Probably Janus.

  Tucker waves. “See you tonight!”

  And then they’re out.

  I stand in the lobby for a minute, feeling sheepish. What’s my plan? I guess I can go sit in one of the chairs by the big fireplace and look at my phone. I should’ve brought a book.

  Just then, Jeremy strolls in. Ugh. I always prefer to have Andrew on hand when I deal with him.

  “Gorgeous! Look at you!” He sweeps over to me, takes my hand.

  “It’s too early in the morning for the sycophant stuff, Jeremy.” I stand, and he gives me little air kisses on both cheeks.

  “Glowing. Positively.” He arches an eyebrow. He loves having that secret.

  “Thank you for keeping an eye on the boys. I need to firm up my plans, and then I’ll be up to get ready. Maybe you could head on up there?” I point to the elevator as encouragement.

  He nods but still grins impishly. “Mum’s the word. Or, maybe I should say mom’s the word. See you upstairs.” He waves over his shoulder and gets on the elevator. I worry for a split second about how he’ll get into our place. Then I remember he’s Jeremy, and he’s always one step ahead of me.

  Back to my reconnaissance mission, I sit and pull out my phone, trying to look engaged and busy. I keep one eye on the front door.

  And then she walks in. She’s clearly been running; she’s wearing the same outfit I saw her in on the High Line. I look up and try to figure out how I’m going to get her attention when she sees me and glides over.

  “It’s Kelly from the South. Hi.” She comes to the chair next to me and sits, like we’ve been friends forever.

  “Hi. Mari, right?”

  “Yeah, and you said it right too. How’s it going?”

  “Good. I was hoping I’d run into you.”

  “Really? I thought I’d see you out on a run.”

  “I’ve been running later in the day.”

  “So, what are you up to today? A run later?”

  “No. Actually, I was planning on hitting the Met.” And now I have to figure how to ask her to come with me. I feel like I’m dating again. And I always sucked at that.

  “Oh, I love the Met. Are you going alone?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Want some company? I don’t have class today.”

  “Yes, yes I do.” Look at that. I didn’t even have to ask her. How perfect was that?

  “Well, I obviously need to shower, and you’re looking like you just rolled out of bed too, so why don’t we get ready and meet down here in an hour and half?”

  “Sounds great.”

  “I can show you how to ride the subway.”

  “Now, just because I’m a newbie, don’t assume. I’ve already done that.”

  “Good for you. And it’s noob. That’s what all the cool kids say nowadays.”

  “Thanks for reminding me I’m not a cool kid.”

  “It’s okay. Cool’s overrated.”

  I smile and get up. “I’ll see you in a little while, then?”

  She nods. “I’m going to get my mail from the concierge’s desk and then head up. Meet you down here.”

  “Just come by my place. Sixty-one twenty-nine.”

  “Okay. I’ll knock.”

  I get on the elevator, excited. As I press the button, I have one minute of regret. I just told her my condo number. Was I supposed to keep that a secret? I shake it off. She doesn’t know who my boyfriend is. A normal friend, I’d let them know where I live. Actually, the friend’s still normal; it’s me that’s not anymore. Oh, I don’t know—I probably never was. But anyway, I have to check myself more closely. I don’t know what strangers might be wanting with me anymore. Mari’s fine; she doesn’t know who I am, or who Andrew is. But still, my days of no guard up are over.

  I hustle upstairs and walk in the condo to be greeted by Jeremy, who is sitting at my breakfast bar, eating my cereal.

  “So? You have a date or not?”

  “How’d you get in?”

  “I’ve had a key to the place longer than you have, sister. Where are the spawn?”

  “If you’re referring to Hunter and Beau, they’re sleeping.”

  “I’m so excited. I’m trying to figure out what you’re going to owe me for this.”

  “Ever the generous friend, Jeremy. Leave it to you to turn a favor into blackmail.”

  “Naw, I’m kidding. I don’t have much to do today. I’m supposed to take Amanda out for dinner tonight, so this’ll work out.”

  “Amanda Amanda?”

  “Sure. I want her as a client.”

  “Why? I hear she’s awful.”

  “She’s never boring, and she’s making bank. I’d like ten percent of that bank.”

  “I didn’t know you were in need of new clients.”

  Jeremy snorts. “I’m the top agent in the business. My list is long and all grade-A talent. Sure, your Andy sucks up most of my time, but I’d be more than happy to attend to Amanda’s needs. I can always farm her out to one of my junior agents later, but she’d be a good addition. Plus, I know this movie’s going to turn her career dial up to eleven, so now is the time.”

  “Dial to eleven? I didn’t figure you for a Spinal Tap fan.”

  Jeremy waves a hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just an expression.”

  Figures he doesn’t know the reference. Mr. Literal. “Well, you’re here, so feed my children when they get up. I’m off to take a shower.”

  “I could come wash your back.”

  “I could have Andrew kick your ass.”

  He slaps the table. “There’s a little gumption from the missus. I love it.”

  I go to shower, and, yes, I lock the door. He might have been kidding, but he is an agent, and you just never know.

  Two hours later, Mari and I are on the train, headed toward Central Park and the Met.

  “Have you ever been before?” She sits next to me. She’s got her pale hair pulled into a messy topknot, and she smells faintly of jasmine. Her running clothes are gone, and she has a pair of high-waisted shorts matched with a striped blue and white top. She is darn cute. I feel a pang of jealousy. I was never a fashion school contender, that’s for sure. And my widening body looks blobby compared to hers.

  “No. I’m sure it’s typical tourist, but I want to see the Monet exhibit first, if that’s okay.”

  “It’s my favorite. You’ll get no complaints from me.” She pulls The Great Gatsby from her big woven purse.

  “Are you reading that? I love that.”

  “Right now I was looking for my phone buried underneath it, but yeah, I’m reading it. I’ve read it before.”

  “That one’s my favorite. I couldn’t ever get into The Beautiful and the Damned.”

  “Gatsby’s the best. You can’t beat his character. A young, be
autiful man who comes up from nothing and invents this gorgeous, mysterious life. Find me a man like that, and I’ll be in love.” She’s found her phone and pops the book back in her bag. “Sometimes I just re-read a chapter at random. And I draw scenes or copy down lines into my sketchbook, for inspiration.”

  “Like what?”

  “I like the eyes watching over the ash pile.”

  “The all-seeing eyes. Nice and ominous.” The train skids to a halt at our stop. “So, we both like to run, and we both like Gatsby.”

  She leads me off the subway. “And we both like Monet. I wonder what else we have in common.” She looks at me, like she’s looking for another clue, before she chuckles and breaks into a grin.

  “Let’s go.”

  The Metropolitan Museum of Art is a true feast for the eyes. It’s huge, built on a grand scale. Forget other museums; there’s no way to even get a look at all the amazing stuff in just this one museum in under a week.

  “You know this is the equivalent of a fly-by. We’re only skimming the surface of all the art in this building.” Mari hands me a map to the exhibits and leads me past gallery after gallery. I crane my neck as we hustle past, trying to catch a glimpse of so many works of art.

  “At least I know I can come back. Another day this summer, I could do a more methodical visit.”

  Mari shakes her head. “No, no, don’t attack it that way. Art is visceral. You let it draw you in. Let it call to you. Let the muses pull you in the right direction.” She closes her eyes for a moment. It looks like she’s listening for something. I stand there, waiting for something to happen. A couple of teenage boys walk by with their skateboards in hand and give Mari a weird look. I shrug, like I’m agreeing that there’s no explaining her.

  She opens an eye and cocks an eyebrow. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “What’s calling to you?”

  Oh. I hadn’t been listening. “Um, the Monet exhibit?”

  She frowns at me. “You’re no fun. We need to work on that intuition of yours. Let the muses in, Kelly from the South.”

  I check the map, and we start down the wide hall to the wing of the museum with the French Impressionists. “I don’t have anything I need inspiration for.”

  She looks at me, worried. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not working on anything. I’m not a creative type.”

  “What do you do?”

  Ugh. I’ve always hated that question. First, I didn’t relish the discussions when I was a teacher. People always commented on “summers off” and “done by three every day,” and that made me want to punch them in the throat. Teachers work hard. Don’t get me started.

  Now, though, since Peter died, I hate it because I don’t have an answer.

  I swallow. “I raise my kids. Right now I hang with my boyfriend.”

  She smiles. “You don’t need to sound defensive. Those are plenty. Unless…” She leaves off.

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless they aren’t enough for you. You know, unless you don’t feel fulfilled. You know what I mean?”

  My heart sinks a little. I do know what she means. She may have struck a tiny tender spot in my ego.

  Always, always, I prided myself on purpose. I was my own person. I finished college, went out on my own before Peter and I were married. I had my own career.

  And now, most days, I am fine with the fact that I’m not a teacher anymore, that I’m concentrating on this new thing with Andrew, and on taking care of my boys.

  But…I look at Mari and wonder what to say about this. She’s unaware, strolling along toward the gallery, looking at the art. She has no clue that I’m chewing on her last comment.

  Now there’s a baby coming. I can’t help but feel a gnawing worry. I’m a mom. I’ll be a mom to a baby, which is all-consuming. And this is a noble profession, raising a child, but I didn’t do a great job of content, peaceful mother when the boys were little. At the end of a day of poopy diapers and spit-up and colicky crying, I always felt stir-crazy, and I had a hard time not fantasizing about night nurses or tropical beaches where little babies slept through the night and never fussed.

  She slows. She’s noticed that I’ve yet to respond. “Kelly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you with me?” She smiles and touches my arm, like she’s shaking me out of my reverie.

  “I was just remembering when my boys were little. No, I’m with you. Yeah, I’m fulfilled. We’re so busy right now, all of this is plenty enough.”

  She nods and walks on. “You don’t need to convince me.”

  I don’t know if I’ve convinced myself, though.

  After a day of art, Mari and I part ways in the condo lobby late in the afternoon.

  “That was fun.” She smiles and sips the last of her tea.

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “We should do more stuff while you’re in town. You’re only here for the summer, right?”

  I can’t remember when I told her that. “That’s right. I was thinking about taking the boys to the zoo, the one in Central Park. Would you want to go do that with us?”

  She smiles. “Sure, I’d be game. Let me know when, and I’m there—if I don’t have class, you know.”

  She takes a step forward and gives me a hug. I’m a little surprised, but it’s sweet—a spontaneous gesture, channeled in my direction.

  “I’m so glad we’re gonna be friends. It’s really good this way.” She gives my shoulder one more pat and turns to the door to the stairs. “See you soon!”

  “Plan on it!” I give her a little wave. She’s gone.

  I smile. I have my own friend in New York. What a nice surprise.

  10: Chelsea Walls

  AT THE END OF THE WEEK, the boys are ready for a field trip too.

  “Can we do the zoo today, Mom?” Beau calls to me from the kitchen.

  I try to swallow hard, keep the bile down in my throat. So much for running to start the day. Today I can’t walk from the bedroom to the living room without wanting to hurl. I can’t wait to feel human again. My second trimester with both boys was a breeze, so I keep waiting for pregnancy number three to get easier too. I’m almost to four months, but every time I think the morning sickness is easing up, I have a morning like this one.

  Beau has a carton of orange juice in his hand, and he’s waiting for an answer.

  “Sure, love. I think it’s supposed to rain today, and that should bring the animals out. Not so hot.”

  Hunter raises a hand from the couch. “I get to take the camera.”

  “That’s fine.” I can’t talk. Ugh, I have cotton mouth in the worst way. “I need tea desperately.”

  Beau raises the teapot. “I just poured you a cup, Mom.”

  Bless this child. I give him a hug.

  “Okay, guys, I’m going to invite Mari.”

  Hunter stands up and comes into the kitchen. “Who’s she?”

  “She’s the new friend I made.”

  Hunter growls. “Must be nice. I used to have friends.”

  I take a nice cleansing breath. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a time or two thousand.” I hug him and plant a smooch on his cheek, much to his dismay. “Soon we’ll be home in Boise, and your social life can resume.”

  Beau’s lost interest. He changes the subject. “I want to eat somewhere good after the zoo.”

  “Somewhere good. Got it.” Andrew’s going to have to help me out on that one. I make a mental note to text him and ask where we should eat.

  Andrew. That reminds me. “We need to pow-wow for a minute. Come sit.”

  Hunter sits down at the kitchen island. “What?”

  “If Mari can come, we need to keep Andrew a secret.”

  Beau furrows his brows. “What does that mean?”

  “Mari lives in our building. No one knows that Andrew lives here yet. It’s why things are so quiet so far.”

  “Things are always quiet in Boise, Mom,” Hunter offers. I
resist rolling my eyes.

  “It’s different in New York. Lots of photographers here. And the longer they don’t know we’re in town, the longer we have some peace.”

  “So what?” Beau digs through the fridge.

  “So, don’t go telling Mari that my boyfriend is a big movie star. Can you both do that, please?”

  “I thought you were his fiancée.” Hunter points at the bubblegum prize on my finger.

  “Sure, yes. I’m his fiancée. Still needs to be a secret.”

  Beau grabs a drink out of the fridge and heads down the hall. “My lips are sealed. Let’s get this zoo thing figured out before I die of old age.”

  A tween and a teen in my house with gigantic attitudes. I’m doomed.

  Mari’s free in the afternoon, and I’m psyched. The boys’ll be able to run around together, and I can have someone to chat with. After lunch, Andrew calls. He’s worried. “Janus needs to drive you.”

  “No, he doesn’t. And he’s with you and Tucker on set, anyway.”

  “So, how are you getting there?”

  “I think we’re taking the subway.”

  “And this Mari is coming?”

  “Yes, she is. Is that all right with you?”

  “I guess. It’s good to have people to hang out with.”

  I clear my throat. “I wasn’t actually asking your permission. You’re my boyfriend slash fiancé, not my boss.”

  “Slash fiancé, huh? That sounds like a quasi-designation.”

  “You yourself stated that you were campaigning. I don’t want the effort on any of the upcoming proposals to slack. You’ve gotta work for it.” I admire the bubblegum ring on my finger as we talk.

  “I could make a bad comment about last night and working it, but I won’t.”

  “I think you just did. I’m gonna go; we’re meeting Mari downstairs in a minute. Have a good day.”

  “I will. Have fun.”

  “We will.”

  He hangs up, and I marshal the troops.

  The boys are gracious and close-lipped when they meet Mari. The subway ride is without incident. I only feel nauseated twice on the walk to the zoo from the subway, and the weather’s uncharacteristically cool and wet. This has all the makings of a great afternoon.