Lauren Takes Leave (30 page)

“Cubix! How you been?” Tommy gives Tim a handshake–arm
bump. His muscular arms are covered in tattoos and several earrings pierce both
ears. He reaches for something from a packet on the counter and puts it in his
mouth.

Tim laughs. “Still sucking toothpicks, my friend?”

“Not sucking them.
Chewing
,” Tommy clarifies. “Like
twenty, thirty a day. Only thing that keeps me sober.”

“Amen.” Tim nods. “Good for you.”

“So?” Tommy waits.

“Long story. Bottom line is, I bonded with this fine group
here, and now we’re kind of on the lam from some paparazzi at the Clevelander.”

The rest of the group has joined us. We line up and make
our introductions, sounding like some warped von Trapp family siblings.

“Hi. I’m Lauren, and I’m pretending to be sequestered on
jury duty.”

“I’m Kat, and I just told my employers to go fuck
themselves.”

“I’m MC Lenny, and I got on a plane for her—” he points to
me—“only now I’m going to have to heal my broken heart in a rap song and
broadcast it for the enjoyment of the masses.”

“And I’m Jodi,” she purrs. “My grandmother is not really
dying.”

“Super,” Tommy says, clapping his hands together like he’s
heard it all before. “Now, who wants some ink?”

It’s just a pretty little one. It didn’t even hurt that
much. Jodi, Kat and I all got them. But I’m not showing you where, so just drop
it.

“I hate to say this, but I think we have to go top shelf
or go home,” Tim says as we exit out the back of Tommy’s shop. We’re standing
in a deserted alley, waiting for a ride from Tommy’s friend. It’s close to two
a.m. and although I should feel tired, I don’t.

“What do you mean?” Lenny asks.

“Well, I know a few exclusive clubs that will let us in no
problem. They offer all types of security for…people like me. No cameras, no
reporters, no worries. Either that, or back to the hotel directly, so we won’t
be spotted or followed.”

“I’m not going back to the hotel!” Jodi protests, speaking
for all of us.

“I’d like to watch the sun rise,” Kat adds.

Lenny nods. “I’m down with that.”

“So, okay, then. We’ll have Tommy’s friend take us to a
place I know.”

“What’s it called?” I ask.

“I just told you. A Place I Know.”

“Celebrities are so cool!” Jodi says, as a soccer mom–style
minivan flashes its lights at us and comes up the alley.

“
This
is our ride?’ Lenny wonders aloud.

The driver’s side window rolls down, revealing a
gorgeously sultry woman with pouty red lips and cascading black hair. She looks
familiar. She winks a blue eye at Tim.

“Oh, c’mon!” Tim scoffs. “Tommy!” he calls. “Where the
fuck are you? You did this on purpose, right?”

“Hi, babe.” The woman smiles, her voice thick and low.
“You coming or what?”

A second-floor window opens and Tommy’s head appears,
toothpick stuck between his lips.

“Funny, no?” he calls down to Tim. “I had to do it. Great
gag. When I saw her act about a month ago, I thought, if I ever run into Cubix
again, I’ll have to make introductions
.
Just didn’t know I’d get lucky
so soon!”

“You are an asshole, you know that?” Tim yells back. But I
can see his smile as he shakes his head back and forth.

“See ya round, Rubix Cube!” Tommy calls before slamming
the window shut.

Now I get it! The driver looks just like Ruby Richmond.

“Climb aboard,” she instructs in that very low voice.
“Nice to meet you all. I’m Dixie. Dixie Normous.”

A Place I Know is hidden between a bodega and a shoe
store a few blocks from the beach.

“It’s like Hernado’s Hideaway!” I decide.

“Olé!” Kat adds.

“Wait one minute, there, darlings,” Dixie scoffs, when we
thank her and make our good-byes. “I’m not leaving you; I’m just parking the
van. I have to spend some more time with my delectable husband!” She throws her
head back, revealing humongous tonsils. She leaves us on the curb, her laughter
carrying down the street like pebbles tossed into in the gutter, reverberating
hard and deep.

“That was fucking scary.” Tim shudders.

“Yeah. Freaky-deaky.” Jodi makes a face.

“It’s not the fact that she’s packing balls,” Tim
clarifies. “It’s just…she looks so much like Ruby.”

The inside is a bit of a shit hole, which I find
disappointing. But then Tim leads us out back, to a lush, overgrown garden lit
by lanterns. Ambient music fills the air. I can hear muffled chatter from
different corners that I can’t quite see.

“See? Discreet,” Tim explains. “There are these pockets of
seating areas that kind of wind their way through here and down to the beach.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Jodi smiles, taking a seat on a
swinging bench tucked to our right. “I think I could fall asleep right here,”
she adds.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done that,” Tim
notes. “There are blankets and lounge chairs for serious crashing. Great big
hammocks and tiki torches perched on the beach.”

“Beach looks awesome,” I say, yawning and settling down
next to Jodi.

“I think I’ll head down there,” Lenny says, like it’s some
sort of invitation. I start to formulate all those same excuses in my mind,
upset that I’ll have to explain it all again to him. Why I can’t go to the
beach with him, how I’m trying to make things right again with Doug. But then I
see him looking toward Tim and feel really dumb.

“Len and I still have to work out a few deets on that deal
I mentioned to him earlier, back at the Clevelander. It’s still kind of
hush-hush. You guys don’t mind if we leave the party?”

Kat waves them away with a tired hand and curls up on the
bench next to Jodi’s and mine.

The guys head down the path lit with flickering candles,
Tim giving a little wave to us in the darkness.

Then I pass out.

“What? Hello? Are you there? Is anybody there?” Jodi
emerges from the trees and heads toward me, cell phone in hand. “Can you hear
me now, fucker?” she yells into the phone before disconnecting.

“Could that phone be any more annoying?” I ask, struggling
to sit up against a beanbag. “Ugh, my mouth tastes like vomit.”

“Yeah?” Jodi asks, staring at me, unamused. “Do you know
why that is, Lauren? That’s because you threw up for, like, twenty minutes last
night.”

“Oh. Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t apologize to me. Dixie was the one who coached you
through, holding back your hair and singing to you and shit before she had to
go to her performance at the Roxy.”

I stretch and look around the deserted courtyard that we
have camped out in, noticing the gray early morning light as it softens the
edges of everything. The reasons for having slept outside on this lounge chair
are not immediately clear to me, but the stiffness in my shoulder blades
announces quite distinctly that I shouldn’t have.

I realize that I’m shivering and grab a fleece blanket
near my feet, wrapping it around my shoulders and tucking my hands safely
underneath. I must have used this same blanket last night, because it smells
faintly of my vomit.

At least, I hope it’s my vomit.

I try to warm up, but the blanket is wet with dew. I’m
suddenly filled with this jetlagged, homesick feeling reminiscent of summers
spent camping in Maine.

I’ve always hated camping.

My gaze finally rests on Jodi, who looks completely pissed
off. “Why so bitchy this morning, Jo?”

“Because of this call!” She shakes the phone in the air
over her head. “I’m here to rest, goddammit, to sleep late. At home, my kids
wake me up at this exact time every day. I needed to
skip
sunrise this
morning, thank you very much!”

Just as she completes her tirade, her phone rings again.
“Jesus!” she exclaims into the microphone.

“I don’t think it’s him,” I joke. My head feels like it’s
floating above me somewhere, slightly disconnected from the rest of me, and I
wonder if perhaps I am still a little bit drunk. It’s certainly possible. I
could use some Visine, a cup or four of coffee, and a toothbrush.

My body stings and I remember the tattoo. My head stings
and I remember the Botox. My eyeballs sting and I remember the Jägermeister.

When this trip is done, I’m going to have to plan a real
vacation.

I begin making elaborate plans for the day. First order of
business: go back to the hotel and take a long, steamy shower; then call down
for an extravagant feast from room service and, lastly, indulge in a nice
afternoon siesta on the beach. I don’t think we’ll go out tonight; maybe just
head to Nobu or something for a sophisticated meal and then rent a movie and
hang out in bed. Like an old-fashioned, girls-only sleepover. No drinking for
me tonight, thank you very much, and no MC anybodies or famous movie stars to
derail the status quo.

I’m thinking about trying to stand up.

I’m thinking about trying to stand up and go over to Jodi,
who is now crying into the phone.

“But, that can’t be! It’s…impossible! This wasn’t supposed
to happen!” she’s yelling amidst her sobs. “I
am
calm! I’m fucking calm,
Mom!”

Jodi is anything but calm. “Yes. No. Of course! Anything
you need, Ma. Anything at all. I’ll take care of all the arrangements. You
don’t have to come down from New York. That’s why I’m here,” she concludes,
giving a quick, furtive glance my way.

Then Jodi is listening again to her mother’s words, tears
rolling quietly down her cheeks, the remnants of her mascara bleeding in
blue-black lines. “Mom, I know,” she sobs. “I know I was her favorite
grandchild.”

I head down to the beach to wake Kat, Lenny, and Tim with
the news.

“She really
died
?” Kat asks, scratching her head
and sending her curls flying. “No fucking joke?”

“Who died?” Lenny mumbles, eyes still closed.

“Jodi’s grandmother,” Kat answers.

“Ironic!” he coughs out. “Like rain on your wedding day.”

Kat laughs from her hammock and I’m glad. She doesn’t seem
to hate Lenny that much this morning.

“Poor Jodi,” Tim yawns, swinging in a hammock nearby and
finishing a text to someone.

“You’re still here?” I ask, turning to face him. The comment
comes out with more bite than I intended, and it hangs unanswered in the air
between us. I try to backtrack, but now that the thought is there, I can’t stop
wondering about it. “Not to be rude, I mean, we’ve loved your company…but…
why
,
again?”

Tim seems momentarily at a loss for words, adjusting his
hat and looking left, right and over his shoulder like he did when we first met
yesterday on this same beach. “Does every encounter have to have a purpose?” He
smiles. “Can’t it just…be?”

“Is that Scientology?” I ask.

“I don’t know about you, Lauren, but I truly believe he’s
here because
I’m
such awesome company.” Kat tries for her usual sarcasm,
only this time it falls flat.

I look at Kat, who looks back at me. Then we both study
Lenny, who crosses his arms in front of his chest like he, too, is waiting for
an answer.

Because here’s the truth of the matter. Under scrutiny, in
the critical, morning-after light, it’s apparent: We’re cool. But we’re not
Rubix
Cube
cool.

“It’s like I told you yesterday. I needed a break from my
so-called reality,” Tim offers.

“And
we’re
your choice of vacation destinations?
Seriously?” Kat pushes.

For the first time since I’ve met him, Tim looks
uncomfortable. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Complicated how?” Lenny probes.

Tim motions for Lenny to follow him. “Guy to guy?”

Lenny stretches and locates his and Kat’s shoes under a
nearby daybed. “Um, okay,” he agrees, giving a backward glance our way as he
heads toward the surf behind Tim Cubix, slipping on his classic white Adidas
sneakers as he goes.

“Those Superstars?” Tim asks conversationally.

“Yeah,” Lenny says. “I’m a collector.”

“Me, too!” I hear Tim say before their voices disappear
with them around a corner.

Kat and I make our way back up the winding path. “What do
you think that was about?” Kat asks.

“I dunno…maybe Tim and Ruby are having some problems after
all?”

“That might explain the ‘guy to guy’ thing,” Kat agrees.
“But, still, I don’t think he’d confide about something personal like that to a
relative stranger, even if he does like Lenny’s performance art. Tim had this
female stalker once, I remember. Needed to go to court, get a restraining
order, everything. He’s really
not
like us. Something isn’t adding up.”

“Yeah, only, yesterday we were too drunk to notice or
care.” Yesterday, anything was possible. We left our jobs, families, and
responsibilities in the dust and flew down to Florida without much planning,
and without remorse. Yesterday it was possible to bump into one of the most
famous actors of all time and party with him. Today, we find ourselves with a
dead grandmother, several hangovers, and an elusive celebrity with unclear
motives.

At the back entrance to A Place I Know, we find and
immediately begin to console Jodi, who is crying on the phone again. “Lee,” she
mouths, rolling her eyes skyward. She turns back to her husband’s call.

“Of course I saw her yesterday,” Jodi insists while
sobbing into the phone. “She seemed perfectly fine. I mean, fine for someone
ninety-three years old and basically
unconscious.
” She listens to Lee’s
response as we sit on either side of her on a teakwood porch swing.

“No, she didn’t know I was there. I felt like…like I was
sending her love from afar. Like my presence was felt even when I wasn’t in the
room.”

“Which was never,” Kat whispers.

“Be nice,” I answer.

“My sarcasm is worst in times of distress,” she shrugs.
We’re
in for some morning, then,
I think.