Page 122 of Reel Love

I explain the costume mix-up and she and I have a good laugh about it. We talk a little longer. I listen as she tells me about an interview she did, and an appearance with members of the cast. I’d listen to her tell me about anything. It’s just good to hear her voice—to be the person she calls at the end of a long day.

She yawns and then she asks, “Can you play for a while?”

“I’ll stay up past my bedtime to play with you.”

“Mmm. Good answer,” she practically coos into the phone. “You’re too far away.”

“Agreed. But I’ll see you when you’re back.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t hang up, okay?” She sounds so sweet, her voice low and drowsy.

“Okay.”

I pull up the game. She already initiated a match.

And her first word stares me in the face: APOLOGY.

“No need,” I say. “I understand.”

“It was unexpected, but I should have introduced you.”

“No. I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t have. I don’t want to be in a fish costume when I first meet your parents.”

I look at my tiles. And, unbelievably, I’m able to play ACCEPT. “I don’t have an E or a D, but your apology is accepted.”

“I’m so sorry, Stevens. I wanted to protect you from all this. My mother … well, I’d rather you never meet her, to be honest. Fish costume or not, she’s going to give you that same appraising look that broadcasts her disapproval. She’s dead set on certain things which are honestly not her business.”

“You can’t protect me, Alana. Your mother is part of the whole package. The press, exposure to the public eye … it’s all part of the whole package.”

Her voice is tentative when she asks, “Are you ready to request a return label and your full refund?”

“Not even close. I’m here. Now. Let’s play.”

We play nearly a full game while we talk about our days and eventually switch to a revealing game of would-you-rather where I learn a lot of idiosyncrasies and fun details about Alana. She keeps yawning, so I finally insist we set all games aside for the night.

“Don’t hang up on me, okay?” she asks.

“You need sleep.”

“I’m going to sleep. I just want you here with me. Leave your phone on, would you?”

“Okay.”

She goes silent, and in a matter of minutes, I can faintly hear the sound of her breathing through the phone … until I drift off too, connected to her across the miles and everything else that separates us.

THIRTY-THREE

Stevens

You had me at hello.

~ Jerry Maguire

I’m dog sitting today. Kalaine went into labor a few hours ago and Kai went with them to the birthing center on the island. Shaka’s curled up next to me on my couch. He goes everywhere I do. If I go into the kitchen, he follows—to the bedroom, he’s there. Try to use the restroom? I’ve got a spectator. I can’t imagine Shaka ever having been a stray. He’s so attached to people. Maybe being homeless taught him to cling to us. It’s hard to say.

---