Love on the Rocks (with Salt) (8 page)

“
Thanks, Dandy. I don’t know what
I’d do without you.”

~~~~

I’ve called in sick for the fourth
day in a row and am eating potato chips from the bag while lying on
the bed in my childhood bedroom when the phone rings. Blocked
number. I decide to risk it as I’m waiting to hear about that
apartment in West Hollywood.

“
Hello?”

“
Please give me two minutes. Don’t
hang up.”

Fuck. Not the apartment manager. I say nothing
so he presses on.

“
It’s just… she…”

“
One minute, fifty seconds. Are
you this eloquent in court?”

“
See, that’s what I’m talking
about. She never treated me like that.”

“
Like what?”

“
Like she was disappointed in
me.”

“
Maybe she never walked in on you
fucking someone on her kitchen counter.”

He takes a deep breath. I can picture him
running his fingers through his hair. Did he think I would make
this easy for him?

“
What I mean is looking at me like
I sold out when I went to Hartman & Fine.”

“
That was five years ago! I do not
look at you like I’m disappointed in you.”

“
You do, Laney.”

“
So this
is
my
fault?!”

“
No! No. That’s not what I’m
saying. I take one hundred percent responsibility—”

“
Good!” I jump up out of bed and
start to pace, unable to sit still any longer.

Another deep breath on his
end of the phone. “What I mean is, I know you thought I sold out
when I left Mother Nature, but I really did do it for
us.
And when
Michelle—”

“
Don’t say her name to
me.”

“
What do you want me to call
her?”

“
I don’t know. Whore.”

“
She’s not a
whore, Laney. But this isn’t about her. It’s about me. About
us
.” I can tell he’s
pacing too, and for some reason it pisses me off, so I plop back
down on the bed.

“
There is
no
us
any
more.”

“
Please, Laney. What I’m trying to
say is that she was never disappointed in me. She was a little bit
in awe of me, like you used to be. And I guess I needed that. I
know that’s not an excuse, but that’s the reason. And it was stupid
and selfish, and I’m so sorry. Please, let’s try to work this out.
I’ll do anything.”

“
If that’s the way you felt, you
should have talked to me about it instead of just sticking your
dick inside the first pretty girl who made goo-goo eyes at you. The
only thing I was ever disappointed in was the fact that your stupid
job was more important to you than me.”

“
That’s not true.”

“
Will you quit the
firm?”

“
What?”

“
You said you’d do anything. Will
you quit?”

“
I… uh…”

“
Or fire Miss
She-Thinks-I’m-Wonderful?”

“
I don’t have the power to do
that.”

“
So when you say
you’ll do
anything
, you mean you’ll keep working twelve hours a day at a job
that keeps you too busy to plan our wedding alongside an incredibly
flexible paraslut? But you sure are sorry!”

“
Laney,
listen,
please
…”

“
I’m done listening, Kyle. Your
two minutes are up.” I press END. This call—and this
relationship—is over!

My dad pulls the small U-Haul into
the parking lot and double parks. He takes the sign he made at home
that says “Please call my cell if you need me to move” with his
phone number and sticks it in the window. My dad is nothing if not
prepared.

“
So this is it, huh?”

I force a smile. “This is it.”

“
Tell me again how you’re able to
afford this place.”

I take a deep breath. I know he
knows, but I humor him anyway. “Julie from work is following her
boyfriend, Dan, to Chicago. I’m subleasing this place from
them.”

“
And it’s rent
controlled?”

“
Yes, Dad. For the thousandth time
it’s rent controlled. You looked over the lease. Why do you keep
doubting me?”

“
I’m not doubting you, Laney. But
you know me, I tend to question things when they seem too good to
be true. I want to make sure you’re not getting in over your
head.”

“
I’m not. I promise.”

We each grab a box and head
into the courtyard. A gorgeous blond in a bikini and aviator
sunglasses sits in a lounge chair by the pool, flanked by two edgy
looking guys with multiple tattoos. It’s only ten o’clock, but they
all have red plastic cups and I have a feeling they’re not filled
with orange juice. The girl looks vaguely familiar. Maybe she’s an
actress. Then I notice the book in her hand.
East of Eden.
The guy to her right
with the short dark hair has a bass tattoo on his left forearm.
Huh. Small world.

“
This building reminds me of that
show you used to watch in high school. The one with Heather
Locklear.”

I smile. My dad has always had a
thing for Heather Locklear. “Melrose Place,” I say. I thought the
same thing when I first saw it.

We head up the stairs, and I can
feel three sets of eyes on me. When we get to the door I balance
the box on my hip and fish the key out of my pocket. I open the
door to the small apartment and say, “This is it.”

The front door opens into a living room on the
left that flows into a small dining room on the right. A breakfast
bar separates the dining room from the kitchen. A door at the back
of the living room leads into the bedroom and bathroom. It’s
cozy.

“
People will have to go into your
bedroom to use the bathroom,” my dad observes after I give him the
five-second tour.

I shrug. “I’ll make my bed when company comes
over. Ready to unload?”

“
Is there an elevator?”

“
Yes, the stairs are just closer.
We’ll get out the dolly and use the elevator for the rest. Not that
I have much.”

As we head out the door the blond
in the bikini is walking up the stairs. I notice she didn’t throw
on a cover-up. Of course if I had a body like hers maybe I wouldn’t
either.

“
Are you Laney?” she
asks.

“
Yes,” I say somewhat surprised. I
wonder how she could know my name from the short interaction at the
Rose Bowl.

“
I’m Natalie. Julie and Dan told
me to look out for you. I live in the apartment directly below
yours.”

“
Oh, cool,” I say, feeling
anything but cool. She doesn’t recognize me, but why would she? Her
beauty is breathtaking. Does everyone in Hollywood look like
this?

“
I’m George, Laney’s dad,” my
father says, extending his hand. I can tell he’s trying very hard
to concentrate on her face and not her black bikini.

“
Do you need some help unloading?”
she asks.

“
Oh no, that’s fine, I don’t have
much,” I say, not wanting to impose.

“
We’re just hanging out. That’s
what neighbors are for, right?” She leans over the railing and
calls down to the guys below. “Hey Nick, Joe. Put your shoes on and
come help Laney and George.”

I don’t have much furniture so it
doesn’t take us long. I have my old bedroom set that Kyle and I
used in our guest room, along with two bookshelves, the smaller of
our two televisions, and my great aunt’s pine farm table with six
mismatched chairs. The rest of the furniture was Kyle’s or things
we bought when we were together, but who knows what he’d been doing
on it—and with whom.

“
Thanks so much for your help,” I
tell them when we finish. “You guys were lifesavers.”

“
You certainly saved my back,” my
dad chimes in.

“
Give us a shout when you get here
with the next load, and we’ll be happy to help you
again.”

“
Oh, there’s no second load. This
is it.”

Nick and Joe look relieved. Hanging by the
pool with hot bikini girl beats moving furniture any
day.

“
You don’t have a
couch?”

“
No, the couch
was his,” I say even though it’s not true. I push down the memory
of scouring Koreatown for a replica of the sectional I coveted from
Pottery Barn. When we finally found it I insisted on paying for
half even though Kyle makes more than twice as much money as me. I
wanted it to be
ours
. It was our first joint purchase. “I figured I’d just go to
IKEA.”

“
Or Salvation Army,” my practical
father offers.

“
There’s a Salvation Army on
Hollywood,” says Natalie. “I can go with you, if you
like.”

“
Oh, that’s not necessary,” I tell
her. “I’ve already taken over your morning. I’m sure this is not
how you were planning on spending your day.”

“
It’s fine. I love thrifting. And
it makes sense for you to do it now while you have the
truck.”

“
She does have a point,” my dad
says.

“
OK.” I give in, avoiding eye
contact with Nick and Joe. “But at least let me buy you guys some
pizza first.”

~~~~

At nine o’clock I make
myself a margarita, pop
Letters to
Juliet
into my DVD player, and settle onto
my new couch with an open carton of Chinese food. Just as I’m about
to take a bite, there’s a knock at the door. I hit pause, look
through the peephole and see Natalie standing there wearing a
western shirt and skinny jeans that are tucked into cowboy
boots.

“
Hey, c’mon in,” I say, opening
the door and motioning her inside. “I usually don’t eat this late,
but it’s been a crazy day. Want some Chinese food?”

She comes through the threshold. “I was
actually coming up to try one more time to convince you to come out
with us tonight.”

“
I’m exhausted,” I tell her. “I
don’t know how you can go out after the day we had.”

“
I took a nap at six,” she says.
“Come on, Black Bart’s is really fun. Lots of cute guys and they
have a drink called Frosted Cowboy that will change your
life.”

I smile and look around my apartment. “I think
I have enough life changes for one day. Besides, I’m not quite
ready to hit the bars yet.”

“
Are you sure?”

“
I’m sure. Thanks again for today.
I’d be watching my movie on the floor if it wasn’t for
you.”

She hugs me. “The guys are
waiting.” Then she looks at the movie paused on the TV. “Are you
sure that’s what you should be watching?”

“
What? A chick
flick? It gives me hope I’ll have my own happy ending one day.
Besides,
The Devil Wears Prada
seems to have gotten lost in the
move.”

“
I didn’t peg you as such a
romantic.”

“
A cynical one—but yes. At least I
hope he didn’t take that away from me.”

“
OK, Laney. Black Bart’s and
Frosted Cowboys soon.”

“
Soon,” I promise her as I shut
the door.

I return to the couch, hit play
and bring the chopsticks full of noodles to my mouth. I chew a
little too long to make sure I can swallow. “Laney,” I say out
loud, “this is your favorite food.” I wash the noodles down with a
swig of my margarita that no longer reminds me of Andy. I rub my
ringless ring finger, wipe away a tear and take another bite. One
day lo mein will not remind me of Kyle. Not today. But one
day.

Maybe the day I go out with
Natalie for Frosted Cowboys. She did say they will change my
life.

There are many ways to make
margaritas. This no frills recipe is how Laney likes them (when
she’s not drinking the pre-made ones from Costco). This recipe
serves two. (Or one, depending on the size of your
glass.)

4 ounces silver tequila (please
for the love of all that is holy do not use gold!)

2 ounces triple sec

4 ounces fresh-squeezed lime
juice

1 teaspoon agave nectar or
sugar

ice

margarita salt

1 lime, cut into wedges

Pour the tequila, triple sec, lime
juice and agave nectar (or sugar) into a cocktail shaker with ice.
Shake for 30 seconds.

Run a lime wedge around the rim of
the glass, then press the rim of the glass into the margarita salt.
Set the glass aside. (If making this recipe for two,
repeat.)

Give the cocktail shaker three
more shakes. Pour the margarita and ice into the salt-rimmed
glasses and stick a wedge of lime on each glass. If sharing with a
friend, don’t forget to look each other in the eye when you
toast.