Chapter 62 Ryan

CHAPTER 62 RYAN

April 2013

Los Angeles

Long-haul flights had become sacred to me. No phone, no internet. Hoodie up, headphones on. A level of anonymity and quiet I was rarely afforded in public spaces. But this return flight from Australia was never-ending. I used the bathroom every hour, just to kill a few minutes. And when the plane finally touched down in Los Angeles, I was delirious. The brightness of the day felt rude.

Normally I’d have a driver, but Janie texted to say she’d collect me. She was waiting curbside in her Range Rover. That car never looked right on her. I thought of her as a Volvo: reliable, safe, a dash of curb appeal. I put my bags in the trunk, climbed into the front seat.

“Bed, please,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. Janie was good at empathy, and I was craving some. I had just finished three months of overnight shoots outside Perth. Another failed fling with a closeted costar. I needed Janie’s tender touch. But she was silent. And why weren’t we moving? After a few seconds, I opened my eyes, looked over. She was turned slightly toward me.

“Ryan,” she said. “I have something to tell you.”

I’d been slouching. I sat up straighter—“You’re scaring me.”

“No, it’s not bad,” she said. “I don’t think it’s bad.”

“What is it?”

She searched my eyes, transmitting something. Priming me, maybe.

“Cass called me,” she said. “She explained what happened.”

“Cass called you,” I repeated.

“Yes, two weeks ago,” she said. “She said she just received some information about that last night she was in LA, and she said it changed everything and she wanted me to tell you—if I thought it would matter to you. And I do think that it would. Matter to you, that is.”

I gave my head a quick shake. One thing at a time. “Two weeks ago!?” This was something I would have wanted to hear, preferably the second after it happened. And she knew that.

“I didn’t tell you because what could you have done? You were in your final days of filming, then a long flight home, it made no sense.”

It wasn’t a point worth arguing, given all the other delicious information on the menu.

“What did she say about Los Angeles?”

“She said, well, the takeaway was that she was wrong to leave like she did—that she had thought one thing had happened and she just learned the truth.”

“Okay,” I said. I leaned against the door, stared out the window. Cass. My ghost. She’d haunted all my relationships. No one had made me feel like she had. What was there to think about?

“So, what’s my play?” I said, clapping my hands.

Janie smiled at me. “Well, I told her you were in Australia and that I’d pass this along when you got home. Why don’t you call her and talk to her?”

I looked at her like she’d lost her mind. I pictured calling Cass, felt the intimacy of it. The pauses and stops and starts. I was out of practice with awkwardness. Being a movie star can really mess with your human-being abilities.

“Yeah, let’s workshop some other ideas,” I said.

“Or,” Janie said, “you could hop on a plane. A grand-gesture moment.”

I gave her the say more look. I’d regretted not taking bolder action all those years ago, relying on something as delicate as a handwritten note.

“Well, we’ve talked a couple times,” Janie said. “She told me where she’s going to be. She said, ‘just in case.’?”

I raised my eyebrows, “Just in case?”

“Yes, ‘just in case.’?”