Page 10 of The Second Chance Cinema
“Because you look like you’re going to have a heart attack,” she said. “And because, something incredible just happened, and
I want to enjoy it.”
Drake stopped for a moment and hinged forward at the waist. He was studying her; he prided himself in being an expert in all things Ellie. Finally, he sat and took her hands. “Look,” he said. “I understand why this meant something to you. It must have felt great to see yourself as a kid. Your dad. Ben. But I’m just … freaked-out by this whole thing, to be honest.”
“I understand,” Ellie said, because she did. She was so quick to shut out his doubt that she hadn’t noted it was a reasonable reaction. “I can see how it would be spooky. It’s unknown. But it’s also amazing, right? The cinema is this ode to nostalgia. It’s everything I love in one setting. Movies. Old things. Memories. It’s a place that helps us remember what we’ve forgotten, and that’s basically my life’s work, Drake. We have to go back.”
Everything she’d told him was technically true.
But there was something else drawing her there. Something she wasn’t ready to say just yet.
“I hear you,” Drake said. “But, Ellie …” His words were calm,but his posture stayed tense. “Something is telling me that we should forget this ever happened.”
The statement sounded an alarm in her.
Ellie pulled herself together and spoke Drake’s language. “Beach vacations don’t last forever.”
Drake shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
“Why don’t we go there next Saturday night when the manager is back?” Ellie pressed on, trying to navigate his doubt. “Then, we’ll get answers.” If they did that, they would know they hadn’t hallucinated, she explained. They would learn how it worked. “Come on,” she prodded, her fingers creeping up his arm. “Don’t you want to figure this out? Just a little bit?” Yes, this would work. Seated next to her was the man who loathed unsolved mysteries.
Much to her relief, Drake reluctantly agreed. “Okay. Just to ask a few questions. That’s it, though.” The sun was more energetic now, spilling light onto the neat green lawns outside. “But, Ellie,” he warned, “promise me something.” He turned her chin in his direction. “Don’t go back there without me. It’s …it could be dangerous.”
“I won’t do that,” Ellie said. She didn’t think the cinema was dangerous, but she agreed that she probably shouldn’t return without backup. “Next week, then.” She nodded. “It’s a date.”
When Drake finally went to bed that morning, Ellie stayed up and watched a movie. She was too energized by what had happened to sleep.Heatherswas iconic, but it paled compared to the magic of watching their real lives projected on the screen. The comparison wasn’t fair. Ellie’s focus on Winona and friends drifted as she recalled seeing herself so young and innocent. But those early experiences were only the tip of the iceberg. Under the surface of the memory was something more complicated.
When they went back, the cinema would play everything she’d been hiding from Drake.
And from herself.
Ellie pulled the blanket up around her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t have described what happened that night in college to Drake; she only knew the bare bones. Her memory had blocked out the sequence of things and evenhowthe horrific event began. The how part—not being able to remember those details—had haunted her for fifteen years.
Ellie had done her best to leave that night in her past. First, she threw herself into other people’s stories. She rebelled against what was expected of her. She ran from people before they could get close enough to discover an awful truth about her that she couldn’t pinpoint herself. She tried to make friends with the forgetting, to convince herself it was better that way. But none of those strategies removed the guilt that hovered above her head.
So, lately, Ellie had done something different: she tried to remember her past instead. If she could only recall exactly what happened, maybe she could absolve herself. Time had turned her into an amateur sleuth, chasing down details that were slippery at best. How fitting, she thought, that Drake once compared her to a teen detective. Still, she’d come up with nothing. And in lieu of the truth, she assumed the worst. A voice would forever whisper in her ear, a mean little lark:You did this. Everything that went wrong, so very wrong, was your fault.
Earlier that night, Ellie was presented with an opportunity to piece the story together. To finally confront her past. She would need to watch the worst moments of her own life all over again— with Drake at her side.
A chance to know the truth was irresistible. She wouldn’t let it go. But if what she suspected was true, could he ever see her the same way again?
6
Ellie had been trying to forget about their engagement party for weeks. On her last visit to her mom’s house, they silently languished over dinner like two women in a dreary oil painting. Their conflict had a long lineage; Ellie could never quite squeeze into whatever box her mother tried to place her in. She was never going to be amodestdresser whonetworkedand married someonewell-off. But maybe the party was a peace offering. After all, Sandra Marshall best expressed herself by way of expensive catering.
“Your mom’s place is beautiful,” Drake said. He’d visited the giant white house only twice; first for one of the aforementioned dinners, and again for a cookie exchange where her mom’s friends had tried to pass the work of gourmet bakeries off as their own.
“It is beautiful,” she agreed. While Ellie’s personal style was more whimsical than her mother’s, she had to admit that Drake was right. Sandra Marshall was an expert at tacking on cheer for the outside world. Today, the home’s exterior was embellished with fall decorations. Tasteful autumn wreaths dotted each window, gourds in a restrained fall palate huddled together on the porch, and two hunky designer scarecrows flanked the black front door.
Ellie checked the time as they exited the car. It was five exactly. She had wanted to arrive fashionably late so they didn’t have to stand there awkwardly and wait while her mom fussed around the foyer, but Drake felt that would be inconsiderate of them.He set a timer to make sure they left with enough wiggle room to pick up flowers from the grocery store. Ellie warned him this gesture wasn’t necessary. It was, after all, their party.
What she was thinking, though, was that her mom already had a florist on staff.
As they rang the doorbell, Ellie began an invisible countdown in her mind: two hours. Her mom was making a rare effort. Ellie wanted to meet her halfway. Weddings brought people together sometimes. She doubted it would work for her own family, but it was worth a try. She could do anything for two hours.
The door swung open. Much like the house itself, her mom looked perfect without showing the exhaustive effort that went into that perfection. The lines of her silver linen top and navy silk skirt complemented her lean frame, especially when met with the posture of a politician’s wife. “You’re here!” she said. Then, “Finally.”
Ellie wasn’t sure what thefinallywas supposed to mean. They were right on time. It was the handful of guests who had already arrived—early—who were the rude ones. Ellie’s confidence dwindled as she surveyed the formal scene her mom had arranged. Maybe an hour and a half was enough time for their visit.
