30 I’m Calling You

30

i’m calling you

Danielle

“One of the producers asked about you,” Mirabel says to me as we wait for an Uber outside of the studio.

“What do you mean? What did they ask?”

“He,” she says. “He asked if you were dating.”

“Oh, weird.” I scrunch up my nose. “Which producer?”

“He has a unique name. I think it’s Tré.”

I know who she’s talking about. “He’s an associate producer,” I say. “And he’s young.”

“Well, he asked about you.”

I ignore her and continue staring at my phone. The little cartoon Uber car is going in circles two blocks away. “We’re gonna be late.”

A text comes in from Alex…

Alex: Congratulations! I watched the show and it was fantastic. About the wedding, Dani…

It’s been six weeks and this is the first time he’s mentioned it.I see bubbles on the screen. He’s contemplating what to say, so I beat him to the punch.

Me: Don’t worry about it. It happens. It’s common and we were drunk.

Alex: Right. Well, congrats on the show.

Me: Thank you.

“It’s your party. You can be late.”

“Huh?” I’m sidetracked, thinking about me and Alex in the hotel kitchen. I can feel a grin plastered to my face.

“Where’d you go? Who are you thinking about?”

“Nothing. Alex was texting me.”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting reaction to one of Alex’s texts,” she says.

“Oh, forget it, he was just saying the show was good.”

The show premiered today. A few of us got together and watched it at the office, and now we’re headed to a bar Eli rented out in Hollywood for the after-party. I’d already seen the pilot, I watched it last week, completely alone because I didn’t want anyone to see me reacting to it. I was not overjoyed, but not totally disappointed either. The acting seemed disjointed and clunky to me. I know it’s impossible to be objective about something you’ve written that has been brought to life by other people, but I do hope that, as the episodes grow, the acting becomes more fluid. I have to remind myself that most pilot episodes are shot when the actors barely know each other, and it takes time to develop an easy rhythm.

Finally, the Uber driver pulls up in a large black SUV with tinted windows. We hop in, and within a minute Maribel says, “So, do you want me to introduce you to Tré? ”

“Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to thank everyone, have a couple of drinks, and stick a fork in it. I’m wiped.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right, well in that case, definitely no. Why don’t you go out with him?”

She shrugs. “He’s not my type. Too young.”

After two hours of thank-mingling, Maribel comes up to me and says, “I’m heading home. I just ordered an Uber. Do you want to go right now? Eli left with that hot young PA dude, and none of the other writers are here anymore. I don’t know any of these people.”

“Of course Eli left with that guy.” I roll my eyes.

“How come Lars was a no-show?” she says.

“It’s just not his style. He doesn’t like building too much hype around something before the big reviews have all come out.”

“I get that.” She juts her thumb back toward the door. “So, you ready to leave?”

“My house is in the other direction. Go ahead and go. I’m gonna grab one last sip and then use the restroom before I head out.”

“Okay.” We hug each other. “See you tomorrow.”

I go to the bar, order a whiskey neat, down it in one gulp, then head for the restrooms. There’s a line. The woman in front of me turns around.

What? No! Beth Zinn.

“What are you doing here?!” I groan. She’s trying to tortureme.

“As far as I know, this place is public. What are you doing here?” she fires back.

“Celebrating. But you know that. There’s a freakin’ sign out front! ”

“Right. By the way, bummer you got that terrible review in EW .”

I intentionally avoid reviews for this reason. My hands are sweating and my stomach has dropped like I’ve ingested a cinder block.

“I don’t read reviews,” I tell her. “Sorry Graceless got canceled.”

“It didn’t get canceled, it just didn’t get re-upped.”

“It’s the same thing…it’s today’s version of getting canceled. Why do you want to keep intruding on my life anyway, Beth? Like, what have I ever done to you?”

“I just don’t get the hype around you. You got this show because of your connections. No one sees the coincidence that Eli was the one who put this together for you?”

“Wait, what? It was my pilot. Here you go again…trying to take something away from me. You’ve got problems, serious issues.”

“That’s what people say about you.”

“Really?” I take a deep breath in through my nose and let itout slowly through my mouth. I really am done with this woman…and the whiskey is kicking in. “Do you know what they say in Eastern philosophy? They say to love your enemy. Your enemy will teach you more than your friends. Guess what? I love you, Beth Zinn! ” I say, and a second later my fist is connecting with her face.

There’s a scuffle of arms and legs and shouting, a little hair pulling, and the next thing I know I am being handcuffed outside of the bar. I’m not even sure how I got from the bathroom to the street, but I vaguely remember a giant bouncer calling me a bulldog as he was carrying me over his shoulder.

“I’m getting arrested? ”

The female cop looks up to the sky for a moment and back down to where I am sitting on the curb in handcuffs. “What exactly did you think was happening?”

“Where is Beth Zinn?”

“Who is Beth Zinn?” the officer says.

“The woman I punched.”

“Oh, her? Yeah, they’re taking her to the hospital. For sure a broken nose. She was bleeding like a pig.”

“What a gross way to describe it. But are you going to arrest her, is what I really want to know?”

“Ma’am, we have witnesses that saw you punch her.”

I’m suddenly very sober. Sober me would never physically hurt another person. Beth has pushed me to the brink. I’ve never been arrested or even been inside of a jail before. I’m picturing something from The Andy Griffith Show . Actually, I’m hoping for that, but picturing something more like Orange Is the New Black .

I’m a criminal. I look down at my two-hundred-dollar jeans. I’m gonna get shanked .

“Is there any way out of this?” I say to the officer.

“Uh…no,” she says as she pulls me to my feet and maneuvers me over to the police cruiser. She pushes down on my head, basically forcing me into the back of the car. I’ve seen this a million times on TV, but would never imagine it hurts thisbad.

“Easy, my god.”

“No more talking.” She slams the door and then walks over to converse with another officer. They’re getting statements from bystanders, as well as the burly bouncer. I’m done for.

There are a million things running through my head right now. One is, How am I going to keep this quiet? The officer gets into the car and we drive away in silence .

When we pull up to the Hollywood police station, I say, “Can you take me in a back entrance? Something a little less conspicuous?”

She looks at me in the rearview mirror. Her eyes are crinkled at the sides. I can tell she’s smiling. “You’re not that famous.”

“That’s not why! I just know a lot of people in this town.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go around breaking noses, then.”

“Listen, you don’t know that woman. I bet you would have punched her ages ago. Anyway, she’ll probably get a better nose after this. Her old nose was too pointy,” I say.

“You should probably stop talking,” the cop tells me.

The inside doesn’t look like The Andy Griffith Show jailhouse or Orange Is the New Black . It’s more like a hospital with bars. After they take my mug shot—for which I accidentally smiled—my fingerprints and basic information, they put me in a cell with no one else, thank god.

A few minutes later, a guard comes up and asks if I want to make a call. I nod and she takes me to the hallway where there is a phone attached to the wall. “Go ahead. You get one.”

“Can I have my phone?”

“No.”

It hits me that I don’t know a single phone number by heart except for Alex’s. This day just keeps getting better. There’s a clock on the wall. It’s 11:30 p.m. Brenda is watching the boys at the house because it’s Alex’s days at the apartment. He’s probably at Kate’s, lying in bed…naked…I’m so annoyed that I have to call him.

I dial the number. He answers in one ring. “Hello?” he says groggily.

“Hey. I got arrested. I need you to come and bail me out.”

“What? Is this a joke?”

“Really, Alex? You think I would joke about this? ”

“You got arrested?” he says, and now he’s actually laughing. “For what?”

“I punched Beth Zinn in the face. Can you please just come and get me?”

The deputy guard is rolling her eyes and shaking her head atme.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says.

“Call a bail bondsman. They’ll figure it out. Have you never watched TV in your life?”

“Well, I don’t know how to find a good one. Is there like a section on Yelp with reviews?” He’s teasing me.

“Call the one where that sexy Jesus spins a sign on the corner that says, ‘Let God Free You!’ I think it’s on Highland. Look it up…Jesus Christ Bail Bonds.”

Alex is laughing so hard he can barely speak. “How are you not laughing right now, Dani?”

“Maybe because I’m hungover, in jail, and there is a very tall and strong-looking deputy hovering over me. Just hurry up, please. I have to go. I’m at the Hollywood police station,” I say quickly as the deputy is reaching to hang up the phone. I look at her and glare. “Wow, you guys are tough. It’s like I’m being treated like a freakin’—”

“Criminal?” she says.

“Hey, wait a minute…innocent until proven guilty. I watch Law & Order, okay?”

She’s smiling as she pulls me along toward the cell. “Did you get someone to take care of things for you?” she asks.

“Yeah, my husband. I mean ex-husband.” She looks at me peculiarly. “It was the only phone number I knew by heart.”

She laughs. “Well, I guess you can’t call him ‘good for nothin’’ anymore, can you?”

“Funny.”

—

It’s been hours, I’ve been sitting here on a concrete bench staring at my hands. I don’t think I regret punching Beth, which makes me sad about the whole situation. I’ve never disliked anyone so much.

The deputy comes to unlock the bars. “Come on. Your ex is here.”

“Never thought I’d be so happy to hear those words.”

We both laugh. “By the way, the charges were dropped. I guess no broken nose and no hard feelings. It was all a big misunderstanding.” She lowers her voice. “Boy, oh boy, did you get lucky.”

I don’t think I would call it “luck,” but I’ll take it for now. As soon as we turn the corner, I see Alex. I sometimes forget how handsome he is. I realize more now that every once-in-a-while, you have to move away from a person to see why you were attracted to them to begin with. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall.

When he looks up and sees me, he smiles. In the beginning, Alex and I were like two opposite magnets in a drawer. My north to his south. We grew closer and closer together…until we fused. It was then that we became the same, too alike…too close. We were so close, so similar, we started to repel one another. We lost our identities and surrendered to being a couple. To being a mom and dad with no singular identities, no separateness, no autonomy. Now I’m seeing him again from the other side of the drawer and there are so many things I want to tell him.

“Hey, slugger,” he says.

“Hi,” I say with a mock frown.

The deputy hands me my things and I’m free. I follow Alex outside and it feels natural to be with him. It’s calming .

We get in his car and start driving out of the parking lot. I turn my body toward him from the passenger seat. “Thank you,” I say.

“Of course, Dani. Do you mind if I stop at the Mobil gas station by the freeway? I’m on empty.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Thanks for asking.”

“Sooo, Rocky Balboa, I guess we’re making this a family thing? We’re like an organized crime family now…minus the organized part.”

“Ha, ha, ha! I thought you’d be mad.”

“I’m not mad. Are you kidding? This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. I mean, bailing your ex-wife out of jail on Valentine’s Day? It doesn’t get better than that.”

“I’m not amused.”

“Why was Beth at the premier party anyway?” he says.

“I don’t know, probably to torture me. She must have come to her senses, though, because she dropped the charges. God, I don’t know why I let her get to me. Beth is like Comic Sans, you know? No one really takes her seriously…why should I?”

“Comic Sans? The font?” he says.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“What font am I?”

“You’re definitely Wingdings, impossible to read,” I tell him.

Alex laughs once and then begins fidgeting with the air conditioner. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to take you to the house? My mom will probably ask a million questions.”

“No, can we go to the apartment? I have some clothes there.”

“Of course. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

When we get to the apartment, we go in separate directions. I take a shower, put on sweats, and head back into the living room, where Alex is sipping red wine and sitting in the leather chair. The record player is spinning a Miles Davis album. “Wine?” I ask, surprised that he’s drinking this late.

“I’m tired, but wired,” he says.

“Me too.”

He stands. “I’ll get you some.”

I sit on the couch. He comes back and hands me a glass, then sits in the chair directly across from me. “Was Kate mad that you had to leave?”

He squints. “I broke up with Kate weeks ago, Dani. I thought the boys would have told you.”

I’m not surprised, but I do wonder why he didn’t tell me himself. “How did she take it?”

He shakes his head. “It was…sort of mutual. Ended up being…unemotional. We both agreed that our time together was nice, but we were looking for different things.”

“What were you looking for, exactly?”

“You.” He blinks. I really can’t read him right now. “Or maybe the opposite of you.”

We’re staring at each other. There is a subtle nuance about marriage that he’s touching on right now. It’s like the things that annoy you the most about your partner are also the things that make up what you love about them. He loved that I was spontaneous, creative, passionate, and intense, but he also hated it. And for me, it was Alex’s loyalty, his steadfastness, and passiveness that drew me to him. But sometimes that passivity looked too much like indifference and I hated that about him.

“I get what you’re saying. It was too soon for a serious relationship,” I say.

“Something like that. Why didn’t you tell me you were a poet?”

“What are you talking about? ”

“Let’s do something. For one hour, let’s answer each other’s questions with total honesty and agree we can never bring up the topic again if we don’t like the answer?”

This is not typical Alex. Typical Alex does not like talking about his feelings. “Okay,” I say.

“I snooped on your desk and was reading one of your yellow legal pads. I saw a poem on it. Was it about me?”

I deliver the same canned response when anyone close to me asks if a fictional character is based on them. “Everything I write comes from the people I know. The characters are amalgamations of many people.”

“Was that poem about me, Dani?”

He knows it was different, not a characterization. It was more a question and a plea to him that I thought he would never read. It didn’t matter to me if he read it because it wouldn’t have changed the outcome of us getting divorced. I take a deep breath. “Yes, it was about you, Alex. Sometimes I write poems…just scribble them down on the yellow notepad, and they all eventually end up in the trash.” God, that felt good.

“Why would you throw them away?”

“Because they’re just for me…no one else.”

“I’m sorry I snooped. But if you’re still wondering, the answer is yes, I still love you.” The room is quiet with the exception of the softly playing jazz. I don’t know how to respond. “Your turn,” he says.

I know Alex still loves me. That was never in question. It was more, does he like me? “Why did it take you twenty-something years and a divorce to be curious about me?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment before answering. “That’s fair. I regret that I didn’t ask questions about your writing…and about your feelings. As far as the snooping, in all honesty, I thought I was respecting your space. You said yourself the stuff you scribble on the notepads is just for you.”

“It would have been nice to know you cared enough to snoop once in a while. It feels good to know a person is thinking about you when you’re not there, even if they’re being a little intrusive. I had nothing to hide. You would have known that if you looked harder.”

“I’m sorry. I never thought of it that way, but now that you say it, it makes sense. I’ve also looked at some of the album sleeves since I’ve been in the apartment. I know that you named Jane after the Velvet Underground song. It was heartbreaking to read that, Dani. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you then. I’m sorry I wasn’t looking.”

“The first memory we made to that song was good and happy. Do you remember it? It was the first night in our house? I’d rather hold on to that memory.”

“Yeah, I do. It was a great night, Dani. You were so fun and vibrant,” he says.

“I still am. You’re just too close to see it.” I take a deep breath and let out an audible sigh. “It’s impossible to want for something you already have, you know? That’s the irony in marriage.”

“Did you cheat on me when we were married?” he says.

“No. Did you sleep with that doctor woman here?”

“No,” he says. “Why is your password lovelove6 now?”

“It has been that for a long while. You’re becoming a very good detective, Alex. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Well…why six?”

I feel a stabbing pain in my heart. “The two babies, Alex. The babies, the boys, you, and Louie Louie.”

He looks pained by the realization. “Did you name her? The second baby? ”

My breath hitches. Before I even begin to answer, tears are streaming down my face. He grabs a box of tissues off the end table and literally throws it next to me on the couch. “What is it? Tell me.” He’s frustrated. I should have told him all of this. We could have mourned together.

“Lucy,” I squeak out, and now I can’t breathe.

“That’s a good one. Can’t beat the Beatles.” He’s getting choked up. This is the extent of the emotion I’ve seen from Alex. “You know what’s sad, Dani? Every now and then I imagine walking them down the aisle.”

I blink and look closer. Alex is crying. I throw the box back at him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him cry…ever. I’m shocked, which is a useful distraction from the conversation about the babies we lost.

“You should have told me that you were thinking about them too. We should have talked about it. What happened to us, Alex? Why couldn’t we talk like this? What happened ?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I couldn’t contain you, and I couldn’t keep up with you, your emotions, your ups and downs.”

“Why were you trying to?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“You don’t have to keep up, you just have to stay in the right place. A place where I can always find you. That’s what home is.”

“You still scare me sometimes, Dani. It scares me how much you feel and how much passion you put into everything. I was afraid of what you would do when you were so unhappy. I thought I was doing more by being silent. I didn’t ask questions or talk to you about things because I was terrified of the answers. If I brought up the babies, I knew it would send you spiraling.”

“You don’t know everything thing about me. It’s not spiraling, it’s processing. I might lose it for little while, but I always come back stronger. It would have been worth it to me. Instead, you were silent, which made it seem like you didn’t care. Months before my mom died, you went into a hole, Alex. You wouldn’t even make eye contact with me.”

“I couldn’t look at you. I believed that the rumors about Lars were true.”

“Lars took off and moved, and my mother died soon after. All of the bad was fading away, leaving an empty space for us. Why did we fill it with resentment and disdain instead of love and healing? We’re both to blame.” I look down into my wineglass.

“I checked out when I felt like I had lost control of my family, my house, everything. I hung on to things that weren’t even true and I’m sorry. In retrospect, I should have been there for you when all the accusations were swirling and your mother was dying. I’m sorry, I understand how hurt you were. My vision was skewed. I was looking at us like this tangible object that had been broken beyond repair, and I saw you as the one breaking it. Now I realize that you were the one keeping it together, while I looked on in silence.”

I’m surprised by Alex’s introspection. “Alexander, are you waxing philosophical on love? How do you see it all so clearly now?”

“Something fluid surrounding us, something living in the ether. It’s a scent, a sound, a taste, a feel, memories, laughter, it’s an inside joke only you and I can understand.”

“And we did for so long, didn’t we?”

“We still do, Dani.”

I nod. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. I knew I wanted him back. It wasn’t just our past, it was that we grew and changed through everything and even though we were apart, the space made room for a bigger, stronger love. “At the wedding, I realized, out of everyone in the room, I only cared to talk to you. And at the premier party, I wanted to celebrate with you. We were so good at celebrating.”

“We still are, Dani.”

“At Thanksgiving, when you smiled across the table at me, it was like seeing the Alex of twenty years ago. I missed us so much,” I say, and now I’m crying again. “Why do you think we’re in this place now, Alex? Right here where we’ve landed, looking across at each other this way. In this room, finally talking and finally telling the truth?”

“I guess we had to get a little lost to find each other again. I know without a doubt that I am still in love with you, Dani, and I want to be with you more than anything. You are one of a kind and I don’t want to change anything about you.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then laughs. “You are my Times New Roman. The original, bold and classic.”

I’m crying and laughing at the same time. I get up and walk toward Alex. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now.”

We are kissing. Everything is right.