by Ayers, Ava
“What?”
“Will I find the guy whose shoulder I rest my head on while we wait for a flight? Will I stroke his scarf?”
“Beth, are you drunk?” she said.
“No. Sober. Maybe that’s the problem. I don’t know. I wanted it to be Nicolas, that’s all.”
“We always want what we can’t have,” she said.
“I wanted him when I had him,” I said and glanced around the airport. “Maybe it’s all this new stuff I’m seeing. I feel out of sorts.”
“I am thinking about changing my name,” Mazie Goodnight said.
“Changing your name, why? I love your name.”
“I’ve been seriously thinking about changing my name,” she said.
“Okay, to what?” I said.
“Matthew.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I want to change my name to Matthew, Beth.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No, sober. Maybe that’s the problem,” Mazie said and chuckled.
“Um, why do you want to change your name to Matthew?”
“Okay,” she said and sighed, “I have been questioning my...identity.”
“Oh my God!”
“Do not go off the rails on me, Beth!”
“Mazie Goodnight! You cannot, you absolutely cannot! You have the best hair, dammit!”
“Beth, don’t worry.”
“Mazie!” I said and gasped as I pictured my beautiful sister with a moustache.
“Beth, I love you. I want you to have fun. Call me when you get home,” she said and hung up.
As I boarded the plane to New York, I stared at a handsome guy with curly hair sitting in first-class and pictured him with Mazie’s face. I found my seat next to a long-haired, metal-looking guy and I thought how ironic it would be if he was Mickey Sexual.
He looked at me and smiled as the plane backed away from the airport.
“I am going to listen to Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
“Whoa, Skynyrd? You know the story, I mean--”
“Yep,” I said.
“Um, why?”
“Because, fuck it. That’s why,” I said.
He looked at me and nodded as he smiled.
“Right on, I like that. I’m going to listen to it too,” he said.
He put his head phones in and I moved closer to him and tapped his arm.
“Don’t let them catch you,” I said and pointed at the flight attendant a few rows ahead of us.
“Right on,” he said.
He moved his finger to press play and I put my hand over his.
“Not yet,” I said.
As the plane picked up speed, he stared at me and I nodded.
“Now,” I said as the music began. “Right now.”
We both leaned our heads back as the plane lifted off and we smiled as we stared at one another while we listened to Tuesday’s Gone at the same time.
As I walked out into JFK Airport to the Arrival area the man sitting next to me ran up and walked beside me.
“Hey, what’s your name?” he said.
“I’m Beth.”
“Hey, Beth, I’m Curt. I just wanted to thank you for a fun flight. Take it easy,” he said and walked ahead of me.
I smiled as I looked ahead to the Arrival section and I saw the families standing in front waiting in anticipation for their loved ones. I suddenly felt very nervous and sort of lonely. And then I heard the music and saw India as I stepped around the corner.
She stood out among a sea of people...a beautiful girl wearing an exquisite dress holding a big boom box over her head with Tuesday’s Gone blasting out through the big speakers.
“Beth!” she said as she spotted me.
I ran up to her and threw my arms around her neck and wanted to cry.
“I told you, didn’t I?” she said as she put the boom box on the ground. “The universe got you here.”
“You were right,” I said.
“So, what should we do? The driver is waiting in the pickup lane.”
“What can we do?” I said as we walked toward the exit.
“Anything you want. We can see the city now or wait until tomorrow, we can go to my house...they’ve been preparing for your arrival. Lucia is in full-on hostess mode. Not only for you, we have some friends in from Zurich. And of course, Tyson and his lover from Berlin. Lucia’s friends, Anna and Harry from Woodstock came down, too. Oh, Althea and Charlie from San Francisco. I don’t know. A ton of people.”
“Let’s go to your house,” I said and waved at Curt who stood at the taxi stop.
When the chauffeur helped us into the car, India pulled a bottle of champagne out of a mini refrigerator and poured two glasses.
“To Beth Munroe’s first adventure in a very long list of adventures. Cheers!”
The two hour drive from the airport to India’s house flew by. There was so much to talk about and so much to see.
“You have no idea how lucky you are, India,” I said and smiled as I touched my nose to the window and studied everything that passed me by.
And as we drove through the gates to the entrance of her house I tried not to act like a total hick and gasp, but I really could not help myself.
“Jesus, India,” I said as I looked at the mansion as the car drove us down the driveway toward the house, “this is not a house, it’s a compound.”
“It’s a house like any other, Beth.”
“It’s not like any other, India. It’s certainly not like anything I’ve ever seen up close.”
“Maybe in your old life, Beth, but this is your new life. Starting, now, okay?”
We walked up five marble steps toward the stone house and a butler opened the heavy, wooden front door and we walked inside. A woman in a maid’s outfit trotted up to us as I looked around the living area with my mouth hanging open.
“Your bags,” the maid said.
“Oh, no, I can--”
“Yes, Margo. Take Miss Munroe’s bags to my room.”
Margo took my bags and trotted off the same way she trotted up.
“I could have carried them, India.”
“No, Beth. You must let them do what they want and what is required of them. It’s cruel not to, really. It is very disorienting to the staff when you do not let them do their jobs. Allow them to operate from that place.”
“Okay?” I said and shrugged.
We walked through a huge formal dining room. The walls were covered in dark burgundy velvet fabric and the long, rectangular table sat at least forty people.
We continued into another living room. A group of men sat in various chairs around the fireplace and were laughing.
“Everyone, this is my friend Beth Munroe. Beth is staying for a couple of days.”
All of the men walked over and kissed me on both cheeks and shook my hand.
We walked through another door into another sitting area. A handsome man sat on a long window seat playing guitar while a pretty woman lay on an oriental carpet reading a book. India introduced us and there were more handshakes and double-cheek kissing.
A tall, cold-looking man came into the room from outside through a glass paned door. He was dressed in an elegant suit and he looked very tired.
“Baron,” India said, “this is Beth.”
“Hello, Beth,” he said as he looked me up and down. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Thank you for having me,” I said as he shook my hand.
“As you will see, we have many guests. Have a wonderful time,” he said and walked away.
India threaded her arm through mine and rolled her eyes.
“Ignore him. He’s very intense. Germans, you know.”
“Yes,” I said.
She led me into a huge open kitchen. Five staff members stood around a huge wooden table preparing food.
“Lucia, Beth’s here,” India said.
Lucia turned around fr
om the refrigerator and smiled. She wore a long, red and gold caftan and her hair was braided.
“Oh, Beth,” she said as she walked toward me, “so happy you made it. Tilda, bring Beth one of those special beers Tyson brought. Wait! Are you in recovery, Beth?”
“Recovery?” I said.
“Lucia thinks everyone is in recovery at one point or another,” India said.
“Oh, no. Never been,” I said.
“Perfect! You must have one. Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Please don’t go to any trouble for me.”
Lucia looked at me and tilted her head.
“But that’s what we do here, dear one. And it’s not trouble. Everyone deserves to be waited on, don’t they?”
Tilda trotted up and handed me a big glass of dark beer. I looked out the kitchen window at the sea as I sipped the bittersweet drink.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said. “You’re very lucky.”
Tilda nodded and trotted away.
“So,” Lucia said, “dinner is at ten...formal dining room. Tonight’s theme is Pajama Masquerade. Maria brought a trunkful of costumes to your room, India. Oh, did you girls make other plans?”
“Whatever Beth wants to do,” India said. “When will you be able to help with Beth’s relationship?”
“Um, what?” I said to India.
“Lucia is perfect at this, Beth. We’ll have her go over the emails and texts. Beth’s in a lot of pain, Lucia,” India said.
“Oh, Beth,” Lucia said, “I can sense that. Why don’t you show Beth the grounds and we can meet back at your room in an hour.”
“Perfect, Lucia,” India said. “Bring your iPad.”
India led me through a large mud room the size of Merry-Bell’s entire house and we walked outside.
“India, your mother doesn’t have to analyze my relationship,” I said as we walked through a beautiful rose garden.
“Don’t be silly. She loves it,” India said.
“Have you always called her by her first name?”
“Yes, wild, right? Lucia doesn’t like labels.”
We walked past a large, rectangular pool and through an apple orchard. A couple lay on a large red blanket making out and they stopped as we walked up to a gate next to them.
“Aren’t we the luckiest humans alive,” the woman said and smiled. “The weather is so mild.”
“Yes, lucky,” I said and inhaled. “India, the ocean, it smells...”
“Oceany?” she said and giggled. “Yes, the Atlantic. Have you never dipped your toes in the Atlantic? Come on!”
She opened a stone gate and we walked down a narrow sand path surrounded by sea grass toward the beach. The waves crashed and there was a fine mist in the cool air. We walked down toward the shore and people on chaise loungers were bundled up and having drinks. A man built a fire inside a large circle of rocks.
I sat down in the cool sand next to India and we took our shoes off.
“I have to get some pictures,” I said as I looked down the shore and took a deep breath. “I never want to forget it.”
I walked to the shore and the waves came in. The water covered my feet and ankles. It was so cold it shocked me, but I forced myself to stay in until my feet were numb as I stared into the water.
I turned and looked at India and she took a picture of me with her phone.
“Beautiful,” she said as she looked at the picture. “Want to see?”
“No,” I said. “I hate looking at myself in pictures.”
“You’re crazy, Beth. I’m Instagramming. Maybe Nicolas will see it and die of jealousy.”
“One can only hope,” I said.
CHAPTER TEN
When we walked back into her house, India led me up three flights of dark, wooden stairs that creaked as we climbed. We stood at the entrance of a long, dark hallway that was covered with framed pictures on both sides.
“Wow,” I said as we walked down the hall.
“Yep,” she said. “Welcome to the Hallway of Failed Relationships.”
“Oh, God, these are all your mother’s husbands?” I said as I studied the pictures.
“Yes, and their kids. Some of the pictures have the new husband’s ex-wife in them and there are a few with Lucia with the new husband and the ex-husband. It’s weird.”
“It’s Declan White!” I said as I looked at a photo of Declan, Lucia, India and Kenneth. “Man, he is so hot. Luckless is one of Stephanie’s favorite bands.”
“Yes, he is,” India said. “Funny too. Lucia screwed that one up pretty quick though.”
“What happened?”
“Adolfo,” India said and shook her head. “Declan wants his women loyal, even if he is not, and Lucia has never been able to give up Adolfo.”
“Why didn’t she just marry Adolfo?”
“Adolfo has no money, Beth,” India said and shook her head. “And now you know my mother’s flaw.”
“Shit, India, you could fill an encyclopedia with all of my mother’s flaws.”
We walked into her bedroom which was bigger than Ivory-Lou’s living room and kitchen combined and an old trunk sat in the middle of her room. She opened the lid and inside were tons of antique-looking dresses.
“It’s like Alice in Wonderland I said as I pulled a dress out of the trunk. Do you guys do this every night?”
“Pretty much,” India said. “Lucia feels that dinner time should not just be about eating, but about fun.”
“Knock, knock,” Lucia said and walked into the room “I see you found the costumes.”
I held up a long, ivory gauze gown covered in ribbons.
“Oh, yes, Beth!” Lucia said. “Perfect. Hold it up and look at me.”
Lucia took a picture of me with her iPad.
“Want to see?” she said.
“Beth doesn’t like to have her picture taken,” India said.
Lucia looked at me like I was the strangest thing on the planet and at that moment, I was.
“Oh, dear one,” she said as she stroked my hair, “you have nothing to fear. Do you think you were violated in a past life, perhaps? Too bad Johanna isn’t here this weekend, she does the best past-life readings. Anyway, log into Facebook. Let’s see these emails.”
Lucia lay on her stomach on top of India’s bed as we tried on dresses and she dissected the email exchange between me and Nicolas.
“You two have corresponded a lot,” she said as she looked at her iPad.
“Yes,” I said.
“Hmm, I see what India was saying about a lack of connection.”
“You do?” I said and sat on the bed next to her.
“Yes, I do,” she said.
“It seems like it’s going in reverse, right? I mean, he starts with such--” I said.
“Intensity,” she said. “Passion.”
“Yes!” I said.
“Perhaps he lost his fire?” she said.”
“I say she dumps him,” India said. “She’s torturing herself, Lucia. Totally and completely.”
“Hmm,” Lucia said and pouted. “How should she do it though? He seems sensitive. No, I don’t like it, India. This Nicolas could turn into one of her best friends.”
“I don’t want him to be my best friend,” I said. “I want him to be my boyfriend.”
“Tell me,” Lucia said and stared at the email, “how many times have you two had sex?”
“Uh, twice?” I said and looked away from her.
“Only twice? That seems odd. Don’t be uncomfortable.”
“Oh, I mean, we had sex several times over two days.”
“Yes,” she said and smiled. “I thought so. And did you orgasm?”
“Um,” I said and scratched my head, “well, yes.”
“Yes, of course. No, I don’t think you should dump him outright. I sent you a friend request, by the way,” Lucia said and closed the cover on her iPad.
“Okay,” I said, “but how can I stop this obsession? India’s righ
t, it’s torture.”
“Well, you must occupy your mind. Do you craft?”
“Uh, no,” I said.
“Well, you simply must craft. Tomorrow we’re making stained glass dream catchers in the garden. You must join us. Very therapeutic.”
“Lucia,” India said, “I believe we’re doing the city tomorrow, right, Beth? Beth is only here for two days.”
“Two days?” Lucia said and shook her head. “My goodness, our guests usually stay for at least two weeks.”
“Yes,” I said, “but I, uh, lost my job.”
“No,” Lucia said, “you did not lose your job, dear one. You simply did not need it any longer.”
She sat up on the bed and hugged me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“It will get better, Beth,” she said as she stroked my hair and rocked me.
It was everything I could do not to cry as she held me.
“His silence breaks my fucking heart,” I said and sniffled.
Lucia released me and brushed a piece of hair away from my forehead.
“Yes, sweet girl,” she said as she stared into my eyes, “you are an empath. You would never do this to anyone, would you?”
“Never,” I said and shook my head. “Never ever.
At ten o’clock, India and I put on the antique dresses and made our way down the Hallway of Failed Relationships toward the dining room. One of the trotting maids handed us black masks that we had to put on before we entered the room.
Lucia ran up to us as we entered and brought us over to a handsome man sitting in the corner dressed in a white button-down shirt and black pants playing an acoustic guitar.
“This is our Gypsy guitar player,” she said.
He stopped playing and looked at me and smiled as he extended his hand.
“Hi,” I said as I held his hand. “I love Gogol Bordello. Do you like them?”
He looked at me and shook his head and looked at Lucia.
“Oh, no, Beth. Pacho is a real Gypsy, you know, Roma? He escaped Romania last month. Poor dear,” she said and sighed, “he was literally walking down the side of the road. You think you’ll only ever read about this stuff, don’t you?”
“Yes, you do,” I said and looked at Pacho. “I’m sorry.”
“Anyway, we’re nursing him. Let’s get you to your seats.”
Lucia led India and I to our place cards and put her hand on the shoulder of a handsome older man dressed in red silk pajamas.