Me: No. Sorry.
Seth: I thought for sure you were there.
Me: Why? Because of the home run?
Seth: So you watched?
Me: I saw the highlights.
Seth: Oh.
I don’t know why I lied.
Me: Congrats.
Seth: Thanks. I’ll let you get back to bed.
Me: Ok. Night.
Seth: Night.
Rejection would be hard, even for Seth Taylor, but I was selfishly too concerned about being rejected myself to think about his feelings. And I was annoyed that I hadn’t heard from Stacy.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY I had to work a double. By the dinner shift I was ready to kill Jon-Jon. A customer found a roach crawling up the hostess stand, and when I told Jon-Jon, he killed it but wouldn’t comp her meal. Of course I got no tip. There are roaches in every restaurant. You just hope they don’t end up in the food. But still, people don’t want to see them when they’re eating.
When I got home late that night, I finally checked my phone. There was a text from Seth.
Seth: Missed you tonight. Went 0 for 4.
I didn’t respond. I checked my voicemails. Surprisingly, I had two messages. No one ever called me, but my fingers were crossed that it was Stacy. The first one was from Helen. “Dude, what have you been up to? I miss you. Call me.”
The next message was from my mom. “What in the hell do I have to do to get my children to call me?” She was missing Chucky.
I yelled from my bedroom, “Chuck, did you call Mom back?”
He came and stood in the doorway of my room. Through a yawn, he said, “Yeah, she’s having empty-nester pains.”
“That’s pathetic. I figured it was more about you than me.”
“Your boy had a shitty game.”
“I heard,” I said.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
“No, I don’t work on Sundays. It’s a holy day.”
Chucky choked on his Kombucha. “You are the poster child of goodness and virtue.”
I was brushing out my hair and inspecting the balayage I had done on it the day before.
“I thought you were gonna start being nicer to your landlord?” I said.
“Your hair looks good, Charlotte. Seriously. You kind of look like Lily Aldridge now.”
“Who’s that?”
“Some famous chick.”
When Chucky left the room, I immediately Googled Lily Aldridge. She was a model and married to a rock star. I walked over to Chucky’s room, where I found him dozing off in bed. I walked right up to him and smacked him in the head.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
“You can’t call me Fatbutt and then say I look like freakin’ Lily Aldridge.”
“Okay,” he whined. “I take it back. You look like you ate Lily Aldridge.”
“Fuck you, Chucky.”
As I walked back to my room he called out, “Love you, Fatbutt!”
I plopped on my bed and called Helen back. “What up?”
“Hey. How are you?” I said.
“Good. Roddy just came back into town so we’re making up for lost time. By the way, I think I want to go back to a natural color now that the chartreuse has faded. Can you come here and color it for me before Seth’s game? Roddy has four tickets in the section where all the family members and wives sit. Wanna go?”
I hesitated.
“Don’t say no,” she pleaded.
“I’ll come down tomorrow morning around nine and do your hair.”
“And you’ll go to the game?”
She wasn’t gonna stop. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
I’ve got nothing else to do.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, when I arrived at Roddy and Helen’s condo in San Diego, I was surprised to see a complete vision of domestic bliss. I knew they were in love, but I fully expected Helen to be living in Roddy’s bachelor pad in transition. Instead, it was actually a really nice place, and I could see all of Helen’s warm touches.
I followed her around the house as she pointed things out to me. “And I got those throw pillows at Home Goods. Aren’t they cute?”
“Yep.”
“Come, I’ll show you our room.”
“I don’t think I need to see your room, Helen.” Helen was wearing a robe in preparation for having her hair dyed and Roddy hadn’t come down the stairs yet.
“Come on, it’s nice.”
“Isn’t Roddy up there?”
“He’s fine. Babe!” she yelled. “I’m bringing Charlie up. Are you decent?”
“Come on up,” he yelled.
Their bedroom was sprawling, with large glass doors leading to a balcony and a vast view of an unadulterated landscape. The bathroom was the size of my room in our LA apartment. I caught a view of Roddy in his boxer briefs, leaning over the sink, shaving. I quickly looked down at my feet.
“It’s okay, they’re basically shorts,” Helen said.
“No, they’re not.” His back and butt were thick and muscular.
Roddy looked up at me through the mirror and smiled. “Hey, Charlotte.”
“Hi, Roddy.” I waved and then headed for the bedroom door, flushed all the way to my ears.
I dyed Helen’s hair in the downstairs bathroom and blew it out into soft waves. When I was almost finished, Roddy came and stood in the doorway, gazing at Helen with such reverence that it actually made me emotional.
“I like it,” he said. “This is the real you.”
Helen nodded and then her eyes started watering. Her hair was back to how I remembered it growing up—a light, natural blond, her eyebrows just a shade darker, framing her green eyes.
“You look great,” I said. “I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”
She stood and went closer to the mirror. “Jesus, Charlie, you’re a miracle worker. I never thought I’d see this hair again.” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t fucked it up.
I was feeling good about myself, and feeling good about where Helen was with Roddy. But still, how in the world could two people know they’d be compatible after spending a few hours with each other?
When Roddy left the bathroom, I said, “How do you know, Helen? About Roddy?”
She shrugged. “I think I just finally figured myself out. I’m a fucking goofball and I was tired of being fake around guys.” She shut the door to the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat. “When I first saw Roddy . . . well, you know, he wasn’t really my type.”
I moved to the other side of the bathroom, leaned against the sink, and crossed my arms over my chest. “So you decided to move in with him?”
“No. I was just fucking around, being myself. I thought nothing would come of it. But it was awesome, being myself with him. He just totally let his guard down, too. We goofed off that first night and we had crazy sex and then goofed off some more. I just kept wanting to relive it.”
“Yeah, but that happens for a lot of people, Helen. They don’t go moving in with each other.”
“No, I’ve never been able to be myself around a guy and still love myself afterward.”
“Hmm. I get it, I guess.”
“Seth is genuinely a good guy, Charlotte. Why don’t you give him a chance?”
“I know nothing about him.”
“Try to get to know him.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I will.”
But the person I really wanted to get to know was nowhere to be found.
* * *