揟hat sounds reasonable and fun. I抦 in. Do you think you can swing it, My??Farley asks.
Not just comedy clubs, but brainstorming and hanging with other comedians, constantly laughing and being challenged, shenanigans highly likely. Things I haven抰 immersed myself in since before Hazel was born.
A tour bus. Sharing a tiny space together on wheels between hotel rooms. No breaks to escape and collect myself. Consistently being expected to be affectionate, and in all likelihood, share a room. And then, even when we come home I know she抣l want to see Hazel almost as much as I will, so we抣l have to transition right back into not being affectionate. Which will only get more difficult, seeing as I抦 already dying to grab her hand right now.
揙f course.?
NOW
揑t抯 a helluva start, being able to recognize what makes you happy.?- Lucille Ball
FARLEY
揙kay. Where did Clay say they抎 be again??
揝omewhere outside,?Meyer replies with a beleaguered sigh.
揢h, it抯 an outdoor mall. So??I start scanning the perimeter, looking for the photographers Clay said would be around.
揌e didn抰 exactly draw me a map, Jones,?Meyer shakes his head before muttering, 揝hockingly.?
I roll my lips and nod, confirming that the last of Meyer抯 patience is already slipping with this charade. And we抮e only three days in.
Only a day after finalizing paperwork with Clay and 憈he team? we met with him again for a social media consult. To summarize how that meeting went: He spent half of the time telling Meyer and I what to do, how to act, and what to post, and the other half of the time convincing us that just by injecting and circulating photos梥o, just flashing our faces?people would be convinced to care.
揝o essentially, you persuade people to take an interest in us?in Fee抯 work?by circulating uninteresting pictures of us doing innocuous things, but then you want us to fire up this interest with more carefully curated photos that require maximum effort in order to look, in fact, effortless. Got it. Makes sense,?he抎 spat.
揥ell, My, we抮e here. And I抦 so棓
揇on抰 apologize. I抦 sorry I抦 being a dick.?He scrubs a palm down his jaw and the sound of it makes my own skin feel like it抯 being scratched in the process, tingling. 揑 just?don抰 like knowing I抦 being watched, is all.?
揑 know. I抦棓 he glares at me and I hold up my palms in surrender, 揑 know.?I gesture to the arm attached to the hand shoved in his pocket. 揗ay I??He nods in response, and I loop my arm through his.
揧ou have anything you need to shop for or anything? May as well knock out some to-do抯 if we can??I ask, cheerfully. 揕ow on your supply of aspercreme or war memorabilia??
揥ar memorabilia??
揑 dunno. Old guy things? I know I抦 reaching here.?
But the comedy gods are smiling on me today, despite my sad joke, and with perfect timing, we pass a store for orthotics. I make to drag him in before he hip checks me.
揘eed to get a shingles shot??I try next.
揌a,?he says, but his smile twitches up. 揘o, but speaking of that, I got another calendar alert for your birth control shot appointment tomorrow. If you could please put those on your personal calendar that would be ideal. Explaining to Hazel what a series of knife, eggplant, and babyface emojis meant together was not a conversation I was totally prepared for yet.?
I wince, 揝orry. I swear I thought I did this time.?His reply is a rueful smirk.
揇oes my hair look stupid, by the way??I ask, eager to keep him distracted.
He scrunches his nose with a shrug as he looks over my braids. 揥hy would it look stupid??
揑 don抰 know. Kara looked cute with hers. Edgy, even. But I think with this face and this long hair that I might just be toeing the sister-wife line.?This makes him laugh immediately, a full, rich sound that makes me want to dig in more. 揙r at least makes me look like I have two first names, for sure.?I grin, and he reaches across his chest to tug on one.
揑 think you抮e one of my top three wives, at least,?he teases.
I抦 near giddy that he抯 playing along. 揙h, come on now. I put out the most. I抦 your favorite.?
揃ut you also stir up the most trouble.?
揑 do,?I lament. 揑 do stir up the most trouble.?
揥e should get you an umbrella while we抮e here,?he pivots, and my face falls into a frown. 揥hat? You抮e always saying you need to get one whenever you borrow mine.?
He sees something in my expression and cocks his head suspiciously. 揥hy are you weirdly evasive about an umbrella??
I sigh. 揑t抯 dumb.?
揧ou抮e many things, Jones. Dumb isn抰 one of them.?
We keep walking at a leisurely pace. The day is gray and cool. The kind where you know the sun is just behind the clouds, even if it never peeks through, shadows shifting and moving on the ground continuously.
揗y mom always liked to remind me of this story of when I was an early teen, and going through a terrible phase. I was awful to her, Meyer, and she was amazing at handling that kind of thing. She never punished me for my outbursts or emotions even though she probably would抳e been justified in it?
揂pparently it抎 been a special week of me slamming doors, crying, screeching at the drop of a hat.?I blow out a sigh. 揗y dad was getting remarried at the time, and even though we weren抰 close I抦 sure that was manifesting in negative ways, and yes, I抦 sure hormones were involved as well.
揂nyway, I guess on this certain morning I was shrieking from the moment I opened my eyes. And I do remember bits of this. I remember feeling like there was a monster living under my skin, like I was going to rip at the seams, you know? And she just kept acting like everything was fine and normal, calm in the wake of my storm, and it kept making me angrier and angrier at her. At the world, at everything, I guess.
"I should add, we were living in Seattle at the time, and in Seattle it抯 really only tourists who use umbrellas. It抯 just, like, a thing. But I always wanted to stand out?I know, crazy, right? So, of course, I always used an umbrella. My mom had given me one for my birthday a few weeks prior to all this, with all these flowers on the underside and tassels. It was bright and moody and I just thought it was the most beautiful thing I owned. But then, on this particular morning, when my Mom wouldn抰 buy in to my wretchedness; I looked outside and saw that it was raining. And it was the excuse I needed to just have an absolute fucking meltdown.
揑 remember looking over at my Mom and noticing how tired she was, but she just shook her head and quietly chuckled at me, told me I was going to miss my bus.?
I think of her face, now, and the tears instantly spill over. How she struggled not to laugh at me, how I made her flinch, shoulders jumping, when I continued my screeching.
Meyer replaces the hand in his pocket with mine梩o keep me secured or contained, I suppose梐nd wipes my face with his sleeve. When he抯 satisfied, he pulls my hand back out, laces our fingers together, and patiently waits for me to continue.
揑, um?I went to leave, and I was so angry I wanted to break something. I remember thinking that. But I didn抰 actually intend to do it, you know?
揃ut, I grabbed my umbrella, and in my tantrum I shoved it open so hard that it went completely inside out. All the spindles on one side poked through, and I tried to right it but?it was already torn. I burst into tears and my Mom was still gentle with me. Gentle, but firm. She calmly walked up to me, turned it the correct way, handed it back to me and said, 慡erves you right for getting mad at the rain, Farley,挃 I exhale a shaky breath. 揥hen I got home that night I cried some more, and apologized. She told me she forgave me, told me that it was okay, to forgive myself. She said that it was going to be one of our favorite stories one day because that was me. I was always going to have big feelings, and it was going to be up to me to make sure they were worth it. She told me I was going to have to learn to wear those feelings proudly, without doing damage to the things or people I love, that I抎 only hurt myself in the process if I did.?I look back up at Meyer and let my eyes slip along my favorite corners of his face. The ripples of his forehead, the jut of his jaw.
揥hat happened to the umbrella??he asks.
揑 used it for years, actually. Up until it basically disintegrated outside of Lance抯梠n the day I met you.?I laugh, remembering. 揃ecause of my many shoddy patch-up jobs over the years, it had become a little sloped in one section and would collect rain. So when it fully broke, it dumped more water on me than if I抎 have not used it in the first place.?I smile as another tear falls.
揝o, yeah. I guess I抳e always had a thing for umbrellas.?
His mouth lifts into a sad smile. 揃ut you don抰 want a new one??
I shrug. It doesn抰 make sense to me either. 揑抣l just keep borrowing yours, if that抯 alright.?
He nods.
揝he sounds like she was pretty great, Fee,?he says, swiping his thumb over the back of my hand.