Unscripted

by Natalie Aaron

  “Well, I’m glad you asked. I’m going to this amazing party and I think you should come.”

  “I’m not up for a party.”

  “Party isn’t the right word. It’s small. A dozen people at most. It will be a healing experience.”

  “Oh, God, what is it now?”

  “Be quiet.” Nancy laughs. “My friend Isabelle is hosting. You remember, she used to be a model, now she’s studying to be a healer. Anyway, one of her mentors is coming over and bringing ionic footbaths for us to…”

  “No.”

  “You don’t even know what they are! Can’t you even try to have an open mind?”

  “I can try.”

  “Okay, so I don’t fully understand it yet. But apparently, you place your feet in this bath…”

  “No.”

  “Come on, hear me out.” She laughs. “You place your feet in this bath and something happens that causes toxins to pour out of your feet.”

  And with that, the last tiny crack of open mind space slams shut.

  “No way, but it’s cute that you think you could talk me into going.”

  “Please? I’ll pay.”

  “Pay? It costs money? Nance, I love you, but no way in hell will I go to that thing. Ooh, but call me tomorrow and tell me all about it.”

  “You’re hopeless.”

  “Tell you what, if you can convince Stephanie to go, I’ll go.”

  “Well, now you’re just being mean,” Nancy says, her terse lips breaking into a grin at the absurdity of that suggestion. “Fine, fine, you can just be closed off to all new experiences, never meet anyone new and stay here with your boxes.”

  “Promise?”

  We walk into Stephanie’s gym and are immediately assaulted by blaring disco music. No bigger than my parents’ living room, the gym’s walls are bright pink and are decorated with motivational quotes painted in purple calligraphy.

  In the middle of the room are eight machines arranged in a circle, separated by small square floor pads. The women working out are smiling and chatting to one another. I can’t believe how cheerful the place is. It’s the antithesis of Stephanie.

  “Hey, guys, what do you think?” Stephanie asks from behind the front desk.

  “It’s fabulous,” says Nancy. “I love it.”

  “Yeah, it’s great, Steph. You’ve done a really nice job.”

  Stephanie walks out from behind the desk wearing a cute, pink sweat suit. Her hair is in a bun, and she’s barely wearing an ounce of makeup. She looks fresh, relaxed and stress-free.

  I wave my hand over her outfit. “You look, uh, comfortable.”

  “I am, after you leave I’m going to go in the back and take a nap on the mats,” she jokes. “Anyway, let’s get started. It’s so easy, even you can do it.”

  “Nice, this from someone who works in her jammies. You have no idea what I’m capable of. Prepare to be impressed.”

  Stephanie gives me the okay sign with her fingers and laughs.

  For the next half hour, Stephanie demonstrates how to use the circuit machines. Each one is hydraulic, but she assures us that they’re just as effective as regular gym machines and that every muscle group will get a terrific workout (as if this is really important to me). The rubber pads in between each machine are what Steph calls “cardio stations.” This is where we’re supposed to jog in place until moving over to the next machine.

  I look around the room. We’re the youngest people in here. What was I so worried about? This is going to be easy.

  “Just hop on a machine and follow the prompts in between the breaks in the music. It’ll tell you when to move over to the next station. And don’t worry, Abby. It’s only a half an hour workout.”

  I smile my best fuck-you smile and step on the cardio station and jog in place for thirty seconds. I can’t remember the last time I jogged, but this is surprisingly easy. Afterward, I climb onto my first machine, which is the leg curl. Steph told me to try to do as many repetitions as possible, so I begin to pump away to the beat of Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuff.” I look over at Nancy doing squats. “This isn’t so bad,” I say with a throw of my hand.

  “See,” she says with an “I told you so” head-tilt.

  Just as the music is about to change, a woman gets on the running pad next to me. She turns and smiles. “Hi, dear. This your first time?”

  This woman is like ninety years old. If I’m the youngest one in the room, she’s clearly the oldest. She can’t be any taller than 4’10” and probably weighs less than eighty-five pounds. Her hands are tiny and crooked from arthritis and the wrinkles around her neck and face make her look a little like a Shar Pei dog. It’s amazing she’s working out, or even moving for that matter.

  “Yep, first time here.” I smile politely.

  “I’m Edna, and if you have any questions, don’t be shy to ask.”

  “Thanks, Edna.” The woman is on death’s door and she’s telling me to come to her for exercise advice? Lady, please. I’ve got this covered.

  Change stations, announces the recorded prompt. I hop off my machine feeling slightly shaky from all of the leg curls and step onto the rubber pad next to me.

  After jogging for another thirty seconds I begin to feel a bit winded and welcome the prompt to move over to the next machine.

  I’m now on Nancy’s squat machine and I’m beginning to wish I were back home, opening up cardboard. My legs are like jelly and when it’s time to move over on to the next station, I stumble off slowly, causing a small traffic jam. Edna the Hobbit shoots me a dirty look as she waits to get on to the machine after me.

  “Dear, you need to move a little faster so the person next to you can get the full thirty seconds on that machine,” she says, crossing her mini skeletal arms.

  “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” I say.

  “That’s all right, you’ll get the hang of it.”

  Easy for you to say. You only have arthritis. I have years of being a catatonic sloth under my belt.

  Three machines later I step onto the rubber pad and realize that jogging is no longer an option. A sluggish hobble will have to do.

  “Abby, you okay?” asks Stephanie from the middle of the circle.

  “Yeah,” I huff. “Fine.”

  “Okay, well your face is kinda red.”

  “How long have I been doing this for?” I ask, panting.

  Stephanie looks over at the clock on the wall. “Eight minutes.”

  Sweet Jesus! I look over to my right and notice Nancy hasn’t even broken a sweat yet. Bitch. But even more shocking is Edna, who’s now directly across the circle from me. I didn’t even see her move. Did she move because I slowed her down? Now that’s a depressing thought. She’s on the pad now herself, but looks like she’s competing in a forty-yard dash. If we were racing, she’d be miles ahead of me while I’d be grasping at the stitch in my side, spitting out dust.

  Twenty-two agonizing minutes later Stephanie taps me on the shoulder letting me know the nightmare is finally over.

  “Can I go home now?” I ask between short gasps.

  “Jesus, you’re out of shape. Even Grandma Time was kicking your ass,” she mutters out of the side of her mouth, nodding toward Edna.

  “I hate you.” I laugh.

  Stephanie’s face takes on a serious look. “So how are you doing?” she asks.

  “Do you mean with the workout or life in general?”

  “Life in general.”

  “I wanted to ask you too,” adds Nancy as she hops off her machine and follows us to the front desk, “but wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it.”

  “No, it’s fine. I guess I’ve been feeling a little flat lately.” Not to mention a stabbing impulse to throw myself off the highest building I can find.

  “Is it just the whole Zoë situation?” asks Stephanie.

  I take several large gulps of my bottled water and decide to tell them the whole pathetic truth about Will Harper.

  “It’s just a crush
. I’ll get over it. I feel so stupid. So high school.”

  Nancy gasps. “It’s not stupid. Love isn’t stupid. You can’t help how you feel.”

  “Who said anything about love?” I ask defensively. I look over at Stephanie who is shrugging her shoulders as if to say You did.

  “Maybe you should call him. Test the waters or something?” adds Stephanie.

  I shake my head. “I told you guys I emailed him.”

  “You were asking him about job leads, and it was a mass email,” Stephanie annoyingly points out. “I think you should call.”

  “I told you, I think he’s with Lisa.”

  “And, how do you know he’s together with Lisa?” Nancy asks.

  “I can just tell. I’ve seen the way they are together.”

  “You can’t know for sure unless you ask. Do you want to live your whole life wondering if Will was the one who got away?” asks Nancy.

  “I’m not calling. I’m not emailing. It’s so not a big deal,” I say, lying more to myself than to them. “It is what it is.”

  Nancy takes her hand and points to one of the purple quotes above Stephanie’s head. “Look at that. It’s totally true.”

  I lift my head and read the quote, You Don’t Drown by Falling in the Water. You Drown by Staying There. “It’s about weight loss,” I argue.

  Nancy cocks her head to the side and stares at me. “It’s about life.”

  I glance at Stephanie, hoping for a good eye roll, but she’s looking at me in earnest.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.”

  Of course I know Nancy’s right. I’ve stayed in the water too long. I always thought it was safe to tread. But I guess somewhere along the way I stopped treading and started sinking. I’m a fucking mess.

  After my shameful workout, I decide to award myself with a cup of hot chocolate and a little veg-out session in front of the TV. Why not? Hell, I deserve it. Is 4:45 too early for pajamas?

  As I wait for the hiss of the kettle, I check the channel guide on my TV. Absolutely nothing is on. Not even a fantastically bad Lifetime movie. And I don’t feel like watching any of my DVDs. Blah, what to do?

  What is Will doing?

  Okay, none of that. I don’t need TV. I should read a book.

  Nope.

  I should really open some more boxes.

  Nope.

  The kettle calls me to the kitchen and I fill my mug with the steaming water. After I empty the contents of the hot chocolate packet into my cup the phone rings. I ignore it.

  A few seconds go by before I hear Nancy’s voice coming from the answering machine in the living room.

  “Hello, neighbor! I know you’re home, you can’t hide from me, I saw your car in the garage. Hellooooo?”

  I pick up the receiver. “Hello, stalker.”

  “Hi! I’m leaving for the party soon, I wanted to see if you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Nope.”

  “Come on! What are you doing?”

  I look around. I’m hard-pressed to come up with a believable lie. “I’m making hot chocolate.”

  “Perfect. Take a shower, throw on some clothes and let’s go. This will be so good for you.”

  “Nance,” I say as I blow into my cup. “I love you but this sounds like torture. Sticking my feet in some water and watching the toxins pour out? Your goddess friends were lovely, but it’s not my scene, not to mention it sounds like total bullshit.”

  “This is a different crowd, no group hugs I promise. Look, who knows if it works? I’ve heard amazing stories. Why not give it a try? I’m paying. What do you have to lose? Plus, I guarantee there will be cute guys there.”

  “What, so I try to flirt as black goo is oozing out of my feet? No thanks.”

  “Please? They’ll have good food there, what were you going to eat for dinner?”

  I take a mental inventory of my fridge. Most likely toast.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Look, worst case scenario, you rest your feet in warm water for thirty minutes and meet some new people.”

  Ugh, I can feel it. She’s wearing me down. The secret is not to let her know or she’ll go in for the kill.

  “Best case scenario, you lose some nasty toxins and meet some amazing new people.”

  “I, hmm, uh.” No! Don’t show weakness.

  “Come on. We can grab frozen yogurt on the way home,” Nancy cajoles. “With chocolate sprinkles.”

  “Okay fine. I need forty-five minutes.”

  “Yay! I’ll drive.”

  “But I reserve the right of departure if it’s terrible,” I say as I walk into my bedroom.

  “Fine, but you have to give it at least an hour.”

  “One hour.”

  “And a half.”

  “Don’t push it. See you soon.”

  “Bye!”

  Well, I only have myself to blame.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  An hour later, Nancy and I are heading down Pacific Avenue toward her friend Isabelle’s place in Marina del Rey.

  “Look, C&O Trattoria is down there,” I say longingly as we pass Washington Boulevard.

  “Very funny.”

  “Garlic rolls…”

  “Good try, we’re almost there.”

  The temperature is hovering around a perfect seventy degrees and there’s a nice breeze coming from the ocean. Maybe it’s good that I came tonight. I shouldn’t be so closed-minded. But I won’t confess that to Nancy now that we’re neighbors and she has an all-access pass to me.

  Nancy’s friend lives in a cheery yellow-and-white two-story condo just one block from the beach. As we walk toward the front door, a chorus of hellos greets us from the balcony.

  Inside is quite a departure from other beach houses I’ve seen. The walls are covered in rich Chinese tapestries, and the furniture is an odd mix of modern and antique, but it somehow works. The room is very atmospheric, lit only by candlelight, muted lamps and the light from the fireplace.

  “Hey, darlin’,” Isabelle says to Nancy as she gives her a hug. Not surprisingly, Isabelle is stunningly beautiful. Her sleek black hair is parted simply in the middle and hangs like a curtain over her shoulders. She has vivid blue cat-shaped eyes, and thick black eyelashes. Why are all of Nancy’s friends gorgeous? Sometimes I hate L.A.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” she says warmly to me as she kisses my cheek.

  “Thanks for having me,” I reply. “I can’t wait to give this a try.”

  “I must confess, at first I wasn’t entirely convinced,” Isabelle says as she looks around conspiratorially. “But I’ve been doing the footbath once a week for five months and haven’t been sick a day since.”

  Hmm, I’d wager that her supplements, cleanses, massages, yoga and organic eating has more to do with that than a footbath.

  Stop. You are open-minded Abby tonight.

  “So how does this work?” Nancy asks.

  “Tarina will be here soon, she’s bringing four footbaths,” Isabelle says as she waves over a magnificent piece of man-meat. He has piercing green eyes and curly sun-kissed locks that dangle over his ears. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a white T-shirt that accentuates his very tanned, muscular arms.

  Drool. Will-Schmill.

  Man-meat kisses Nancy hello as Isabelle introduces him to me. His name is Ty. And of course, he’s her husband. Hate her.

  “I was just telling the girls about the footbaths.” Isabelle tucks a lock of hair behind Ty’s beautiful ear. “Each session lasts for thirty minutes and costs forty-five dollars. Tarina is giving us a discount since there are twelve of us.”

  First of all: Tarina? Made-up name, or birth? Secondly: Forty-five dollars? What’s the un-discounted rate?

  “Fantastic,” says Nancy.

  “Help yourself to some little nibbles, and we have a selection of ayurvedic tonics in the kitchen.” Isabelle points to a meager spread of vegetables, cheese cubes and whole-wheat crackers.

&nb
sp; Oh man. We are going to the C&O for some heavy-duty pasta after this.

  “And of course, for those who prefer a cocktail, there’s wine and beer as well,” says Ty.

  “Which,” Isabelle continues, “I suppose is a bit antithetical to the whole detox process, but if we’re having a cleansing party, we need something to cleanse, don’t we?”

  Bah. Fine. I like her.

  “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Nancy whispers as we head over to the dining room table.

  “Good Lord. Did he bring friends?” I ask, looking around. I see some women wearing maxi dresses but no other hot guys. There’s a group milling about on the balcony, but I can’t make out any of their faces.

  “I hope so. Izzy said there would be at least four single guys here.” Nancy glances covertly around the room.

  “Let’s hope the other women don’t all look like Isabelle,” I say as I place a carrot and stick of celery on my plate along with a dollop of spinach dip.

  “Yeah, if that’s the case, we’re screwed.” Nancy pops a square of cheese in her mouth.

  That’s one of the things I love about Nancy: Just when I think she’s going to hit me with a dose of Pollyanna, she makes a crack like that.

  “Have you given any more thought to what we talked about?” Nancy nudges.

  “No, and even if Will and Lisa aren’t together, I think he too is destined for the Isabelles of the world.”

  Nancy puts her plate down and takes my arm. I can tell by the look on her face that I’ve awakened Pollyanna. “Don’t say things like that. Will would be lucky to have you.”

  “What? You just agreed with me two seconds ago that neither of us would have a shot in hell with any of the guys here. What’s the difference?”

  “That comment was based on tonight only. Yes, if I am standing in a room full of Isabelles, based on first impressions alone, the men won’t gravitate to me tonight.”

  “Nance, you’re beautiful…”

  Nancy laughs. “We’re talking in circles. My point is, if I were to talk, really talk to any of these men, they would realize how absolutely fabulous I am and blow all of these women off. But I realize that may be difficult in this setting. And what I’m saying is, now that Will knows you, how could he resist?”