I’m Losing You (9 page)

“How are you?”

Obie tucked herself into the chair, hunched in a fetal position. “It's been a real shitty week.”

“What happened?”

“Stuff with Cat. Career shit.
Bull
shit.”

She was going to cancel, but had canceled the last three sessions already. She blew her nose and Calliope pushed some Kleenex.

“Are you sick? You don't look like you're feeling well.”

“I think I have a—this sinus infection. And there's…this drug thing, so
stupid
. With Les. It's more a pain in the ass than anything else. Have you read about it?”

“I saw something in the paper.”

“It's like,
enough
. It's so
ridiculous
. Poor Les—he's
really
upset, he's like,
shaken
. You know, he's concerned about his career.”

“As he should be.”

“Has he talked to you about it?”

“You know I wouldn't share something like that.”

“Nothing's going to happen.”

“There are no guarantees. And it can't be much fun.”

“I know—I'm not in denial, I'm not saying it's
nothing
. It's just, I'm so used to—
he's
not. He's never been in the
glare
of the whole whatever. But there's no
way
, that would be
insane
. I mean, for them to—
I'm
the one, if anyone. And it's such a
victimless
crime, if a crime at all. I mean, don't these people have better things to do? I want to talk about something else.”

“Did you take anything today, Oberon?”

“What?”

“Did you take anything today?”

“No! Why?”

“You're slurring some of your words.”

“I
am
?”

“Yes.”

“It's the Zoloft.”

“Zoloft doesn't make you slur.”

Obie blew her nose again, then closed her eyes. “There's something I really need to talk about.”

“In a moment,” she said, sternly. “I don't want to see you in here under the influence.”

“I'm
not
—”

“That's a rule, Oberon.”

“I haven't slept in two days and I have this sinus thing that I took some—what's it called, Atarax?—it's like
unbelievable
, they're like
reds
. I haven't felt this good since high school. I'm kidding. I mean, I could barely drive over here.”

“Just so we're clear on the rule.”

“We're clear on the rule.”

“If you can't drive, we'll call your assistant to pick you up.”

“There's an idea. It's just I've been sneezing for, like,
forty-eight hours
and this is the first time I've stopped. I was freaking out ‘cause I read somewhere about someone who had to be hospitalized because he couldn't stop sneezing and then he
died
.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I've been offered this really interesting role. A remake, for no money. Italian film. Pasolini. But
really
interesting. And I did something—I think—I
know
it was connected to the part and some of it was the
drugs
, which I've now stopped. But I feel weird about it and wanted to talk.”

“Something with Cat?”

“God, I
wish
. Someone I know befriended a homeless woman. I don't want to say who it is. He picked her up on the street and gave her money. Put her up at the St. James—or the place that used to be the St. James. She has a little girl. Anyway, they came to the house and she blew lunch over the whole celebrity thing. Meeting me. I mean, this is a woman who has been living in
weeds
off of
freeways
. We all got loaded and fooled around—I mean, she's clean,
not
your standard homeless person, I know that sounds terrible. But
very
pretty, kind of like Annette Bening. My friend wound up taking her to another room. You could hear them…
fucking
so I took the girl to the other side of the house.”

“How old is she?”

“Around seven. Calliope, it's really awful!”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I just feel so
weird
about this but I
know
why I did it.
God
, sometimes I wish I wasn't an actress—the fucking
burden
. See, in
Teorema
—that's the project I'm going to do for, like
no
money because it's so great—this character I'm supposed to play is totally free, totally uninhibited. She has no…sexual morality. That's what attracted me to the part. She's a
seducer
. She sleeps with a whole
family
: husband, wife, daughter, son, the whole deal.”

“You're saying there are no boundaries.”

Obie closed her eyes and nodded. “We played this game where I made her reach inside me.”

“You what?”

“I'm
not
a monster and I
know
she wasn't…aware—what was happening. She was already sleepy because I think her mother gave her part of a pill, a Valium or something. So she was groggy, whatever, to begin with. My friend said that's what she did, and I remember thinking how weird it was to give your kid a pill. But my mother did that too. So—she was half awake and I—took her to the guest room.”

“And what did you do?”

“I was going to put her to bed—should I…can I
tell
you this?”

“Yes.”

“You won't judge me?”

“I won't judge you.”

“This is
exactly
what the
woman
would have done—”

“What woman?”

“The
character
. From
Teorema
. I was
totally
covered by a blanket and she was
more
than half asleep, Calliope, I
know
I was
completely
covered the whole time. I feel weird but I'm not even sure it's wrong—there's
no way
she had any idea. ‘If an arm falls in the forest'—”

“She put her arm inside you?
How
?”

“I said I lost a diamond and if she found it, she could have it. I pushed it in…I mean, there was no way—it was only like ten seconds and that was
all
. She went to bed
immediately
. I mean, she was half-asleep
during
.”

“Simon? It's Mitch.”

“Oh hi, Mitch.”

“Your mother's very upset. She's so upset that she asked me to call.”

“What's up?”

“You know what's up.”

“‘Fraid I don't, Mitch.”

“Did you pay a visit to Hassan DeVore?”

“
Pay a visit
is a bit much, Mitch. I
saw
him, at the
studio
. Did he tell her that?”

“How else would she have found out, Simon?”

“What's the problemo?”

“I think you
know
what the problem is.”

“Frankly, I don't, Mitch. To summarize, why don't you tell me.”

“Come on, Simon. You have a head on your shoulders, though you don't always use it. That man is a
client
of your mother's. Going to see him like that is not only a gross invasion of his privacy, but an act of aggression toward Calliope. I can't believe you would have exploited her in that way.
Or
him.”

“I went to see Mr. DeVore as a
courtesy
, Mitch. I'm a writer! I'm not playing games! I know a
producer
on that show—”

“I can't believe you'd even
defend
—”

“It's
moot
that Sagabond's no longer there, Mitch! The man extended me an
open invitation
—”

“Simon, I
don't care
! Do you understand? Can you imagine her embarrassment? A client confronting her like that? With stories that her son's
soliciting work
—”

“
Confronting
her? What does
that
mean, Mitch? Did
Mister Vorbalid
say he was unhappy I stopped by?”

“Mr. What?”

“He's a fucking
Vorbalid
, Mitch—we're not talking Anthony Hopkins here! We're not even talking Michael Douglas!”

“This is pointless. I'm just calling to convey a message from your mother, okay, Simon?”

“But this is
important
, Mitch, this is
subjective
. Did my mother say DeVore was unhappy about my visit or
didn't
she? Did she actually
hear
DeVore say—”

“This isn't
Court TV
, okay, Simon? What you did was wrong and
you know it! Calliope doesn't want you to call, she doesn't even want you at the house.”

“Oh,
really
. And what does
that
mean?”

“It means what it means. She doesn't feel safe.”

“She doesn't feel
safe
, Mitch?”

“That's right and I can't blame her. You crossed a line, Simon.”

“And now I'm the Unabomber.”

“I didn't say that.”

“Now I'm stalking my own mom, a
moser
! Pursuer of Jews!”

“You're not to come by the house.”

“The house I grew up in. Oh. I see. Great. Wonderful, Mitch. I'm not to come by the house that I grew up in and the house
you've
inhabited for a relatively short while.”

“Don't drag me into this.”

“You've done a pretty good job already.”

“This has nothing to do with me, Simon.”

“Oh. And what
does
it have to do with?”

“Your inappropriate behavior.”

“Oh. Right. To summarize. I see.”

“Let's not belabor this.”

“I know you're pissed off because she's famous and you're not.”

“I won't even dignify that asininity with a comment.”

“You never
will
be, Mitch. I know that must hurt.”

“Goodbye, Simon.”

“Just one more thing. I was just wondering.”

“This conversation is over.
Just stay away
.”

“I only want to know one thing, it's important.”

“What is it?”

“I was just wondering what your clients say when you show them your weasely non-famous little dick.”

When Simon got to Bel Air, Serena wanted to take a drive. The new day nurse was refreshingly indifferent to the announced itinerary. They brought the sheepskin from the couch and laid it on the cracked leather of the old Jag.

“This is a bit unusual for me,” he said as they got under way.

“Being abducted by a sick old woman?”

“But I have to say I like the anarchy quotient.”

“You're a funny young man.” Serena coughed, readjusting herself beneath the strap of the seat belt. “I'm going to take this damn thing off,” she said, trying to undo it. Simon reached over and freed her. “Thank you. Silly for me to wear it. For you, no. But for me…”