Monsters (25 page)

O
MAHA HAS
this little film festival in November, and Tommy wants to come. The movie won't be released until December, but he says he'll bring a trailer, and we'll do some kind of Q&A.

“You don't want to come to Omaha,” I'd said when he first brought it up. I mean, it's more of an arts town. It's nothing like L.A.

He didn't listen of course, and now I have an envelope in my hands with extra passes for Jenny and Todd, and I feel like this is a collision I can't let happen. I can already see everything spiraling out.
What about Phillip?
she'll say.
Why don't we bring Phillip?

“I just got the schedule,” I say when I call her, “for this festival thing. I don't think you want to come.”

“What?”

“I'm going to have to be there for like ten hours and Tommy's actually got all these press calls scheduled that he'll be doing from the hotel room, so I'm just going to be hanging around waiting and then there's a short little Q&A and I don't know if we'll even have time for dinner or anything. I mean, you might get to meet Tommy, but probably not.”

Bring your sister,
he said.
I have a lot of questions.

“I'm not coming for Tommy. I'm coming for you.”

“Okay, but I won't even see you. I mean, I won't even know you're there.”

“You sound like you don't want me there.”

“No. That's not . . . I mean, I have the passes right here, and if you think it would be fun, then totally, you should go to the festival. I'm just saying, it doesn't really seem like something Todd would enjoy, but I'll give you the passes and if there's anything that sounds cool, you should go to it. You just probably won't get to see me much, so don't go as a favor to me. It's fine though. I can get a babysitter.”

She sighs. “Don't get a sitter,” she says. “They can spend the night at our house.”

•   •   •

I walk into the hotel just after noon, and Daniel's waiting for me in the lobby. He's sitting on the couch, and he's got a pile of things stacked beside him. He jumps to his feet and hugs me, gripping my shoulders, pressing his cheek against my cheek. “Look what I have!” he says, pointing back. “Posters!”

He picks one up and unrolls it, turning it toward me. “This one is my favorite.” It's Sarah, surrounded by shadows, and behind her is Tommy, but his eyes look cruel. “Someone from the festival is meeting me to get them. I should have sent them ahead, but the first batch were a mess. Fucking printers.” He throws his hands up. “Anyway, I'll text Tommy. Tell him to meet us in the bar.”

I glance over at the entrance, and it's not packed, but it's not exactly empty. I feel like it's a bad idea. I feel like Tommy appearing is
going to cause a scene. But my nerves are on edge already and a drink sounds good.

Daniel seems to guess what I'm thinking. He pats my arm. “We can always leave. It's tonight you're gonna have to get ready for. Tonight's going to be a mob.”

•   •   •

The trailer is spectacular. I haven't seen a clip since the rough cut, and this is completely new. It is not my book. It's something bigger, something more.

“How did you do that?” I whisper to Tommy, and he says, “Don't insult me. I promised you, didn't I?”

He's leaning close as he says this, his hand high on my back, tucked under my hair. I want to turn toward him, to ask,
Did you make that for me?
But then the lights come up, and I remember who I am and where we are. I remember everything.

I shift away. “I know people here,” I say, under my breath.

•   •   •

It's late for dinner, but Tommy's hungry, and I haven't eaten all day. Daniel slips into a pub not far from the hotel and makes arrangements for a table in the back. It barely matters. Tommy is coming off six straight hours of adoration, and he can't seem to wipe it off. It's impossible not to look at him.

It's hard to order because the waitress is so busy fussing over Tommy. She's apparently seen everything he's ever done, even some seriously obscure shit, but we finally get our order in, and of course she comps it. I know Tommy's going to leave her some ridiculous tip.

I order a carrot dog, with no bun, and when she brings it, Daniel says, “Jesus, honey, what is that?” and Tommy wrinkles his nose.

“It's like a hot dog,” I say. “They brine it.” It comes with sauerkraut, which I like, and it goes well with vodka.

Tommy reaches across with his fork and takes a bite. He makes a face. He says, “That's not a hot dog.”

I say, “Jesus, help yourself.” And he says, “What? It's not like you were going to finish it.”

And then we both look up because it's like we can feel someone walking toward us, and Tommy puts on his
I'd love to give you an autograph
face, but this time, it is not a pretty twenty-year-old girl. This time it's Phillip. Of course. He lives three blocks from here. It makes sense.

He says, “Stacey?” and I stand up and hug him. “Phillip,” I say, and I try to sound happy. “Hi!”

Tommy says, “Oh shit, you're Phillip?” and he stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Hey, I've heard so much about you, man, good to meet you.” He smiles a little wider than I'd like.

“And this is Daniel,” I say, pointing to Daniel because I want him to not look at Tommy. Daniel waves. “And they are both in town for the film festival I was telling you about,” I say, “which is totally exciting.” I did tell him. I just neglected to mention Tommy.

Then our waitress comes back, and she's found someone to take a picture of her with Tommy, and Tommy says, “Of course,” and steps away.

“I didn't realize you two were close,” Phillip says kind of quietly.

I cross my arms over my chest. I say, “Tommy? Oh yeah, we're friends,” and I give Phillip this really nice smile like,
Didn't I mention
that
? But then Tommy comes back and as he walks behind me, he rests his hand on my back, and I can see that Phillip notices.

“Sorry,” Tommy says. “It's like you really don't have any fucking celebrities around here.”

“Just Buffett,” I say, and Tommy laughs. He sits back down and says to Phillip, “Pull up a chair.”

What do you think you're doing?
I think, but I can't say anything. I can't even say it with my eyes. Phillip is watching me way too closely.

“I'm with people,” Phillip says. “We were just leaving,” and he leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “I'll call you later.”

When he leaves, Tommy says, “Jesus, that poor bastard.” He smiles though. He seems kind of happy about it.

Daniel shakes his head. “Fucking humiliating.”

I take a big sip of my vodka, and I say, “What?”

“Stace, come on, what are you doing with this guy?”

“What? I like him.”

“Uh-huh. You clearly like him a ton, honey,” Daniel says. “We can tell 'cause you're like super genuine with him, totally at ease.” He rolls his eyes.

“It was painful to watch,” Tommy says. “I mean, I'm all for making friends, honey, but then have the decency to cut them loose.”

“You're worse than Tommy,” Daniel says.

“Yeah.” Tommy nods. “You're worse than me.” He reaches across to my plate again, takes a bite of the sauerkraut. “I can't believe I covered for you. I mean, it would have been a kindness to be like ‘Hey, I'm Tommy. Totally fucking your girlfriend.'”

“Not today,” I say, and Tommy just laughs.

“Look, I get that this guy is like a pet who comes when you call
him and sits and stays and all of that, but that's not what you want, is it? That's not what you need.”

“Fuck you,” I say, and Tommy says, “You always do, baby. You always do.”

“Jesus Christ,” Daniel says. “Would you two stop? I don't know if you realize there's another actual person here, and he doesn't want to hear this shit.”

I don't say anything more. I just look at Tommy and I think,
I hate you
. I know that he can see it, but he doesn't care.

•   •   •

When we get back to the hotel, I gesture toward the parking garage. “It's late,” I say. “I'd better go.”

Tommy laughs. He says, “You're not still pissed about dinner? Come on, I'll make it up to you. Let's get a drink.”

“I've already had enough,” I say.

“So you obviously can't drive,” he says. He holds his hand out. “Come on. At least one.”

The bar in the lobby is packed. I say, “I'm not going in there.”

Tommy takes my arm like he's trying to steady me. I do feel like I'm losing my shit. He says, “It's fine, we'll have something sent up,” and he steers me toward the elevator. People are watching, but he just positions himself a little in front of me, and I duck my head. Once the doors slide closed, I lean back and brace my hands on the rail. I feel like I can almost breathe. Tommy slides his arm around me. “Relax,” he says. “You know I've got you.” It really doesn't help.

When we get to Tommy's suite, Daniel picks up the phone and tells them to send up a bottle of vodka, well chilled. “I've got to head to bed,” he says when he hangs up. “One of us”—he looks at Tommy—“never
gets a day off.” He crosses the room and kisses me on the forehead, and as he pulls back he gives me this worried frown. I smile back at him.

When the vodka comes, Tommy hands me a glass and sits in the chair across from me. He says, “I know you don't love this kind of shit, Stace, but you have to get used to it. It's going to get much bigger. Wait until you get to L.A.”

I just sigh, put my hand over my face. “You don't need me for all of this, Tommy. Really. I don't need to come out.”

“I want you there.” He says it like it's final, like he gets the last say. “This is your baby. You need to see it through.”

I don't answer, and I don't look at him either. Sometimes it's bad enough just knowing he's there.

“How's Sadie?” I say, because I'm interested, but also because I want to change the subject.

“Better. Her mom's got her in New York.” He makes a dismissive face. “She's doing some off-off-Broadway thing, but I think the change is probably good for Sadie.” He shrugs. “She's gained a little weight back anyway.”

“Not that you would ever say that.”

“No! Fuck no. I'm not an idiot.” He laughs, but it's a sad laugh. “I don't say a goddamn word.”

•   •   •

We don't stay up much later. He's got an early flight, and I feel completely frayed. I feel like I'm unraveling. I set our glasses on the bar in the corner, and as I walk back past the chair he's in, he stretches his arm out and catches me by the waist, pulling me onto his lap. He slips one hand up the back of my shirt, unhooking my bra, and I let him, but I say, “Tommy.”

“I fly out early,” he says, and he pulls my mouth against his. “I don't have time for all the sweet talk, but you know how I feel about you.”

I laugh then, turn my head. “Do I?” I say. I drop one foot to the floor and lean my weight into it, standing up.

Tommy grabs my wrist. “Where you going?”

I just shake my head, and Tommy lets go. He drops his head back, stares at the ceiling. “Jesus, Stacey, what is it you want from me?”

“I don't want anything from you,” I say, turning away. I reach back to refasten my bra. “Hasn't that always been the point?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I turn to face him, fold my arms across my chest. “What could I possibly want from you, Tommy? A reputation? Some confused shit I have to explain to my kids? I don't know.” I wave my hand back and forth between us. “I mean, this is fun, but—”

“You leaving then?” he says abruptly, cutting me off.

I nod. I say, “Yes.”

“Good,” he says. “Great. That's just fucking great.” He rubs one hand over his face. He shakes his head and stands up. “Call a cab.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and throws it at me. I turn to dodge it, but it hits my arm.

I hold my hand over the spot and look him straight in the eye. “I'll just walk,” I say slowly because Phillip lives close and Tommy knows that.

He moves toward me, his jaw hard, and I stumble backwards, hitting the wall. Tommy holds me there, one arm around my back, pressing my arms into the wall behind me. “Don't fuck with me,” he says, and he leans into me a little harder, his elbow digging against my
biceps. I feel my eyes starting to burn, and I close them fast. I say, “Tommy, you're hurting me.”

“Not yet,” he says, but he shifts his weight just enough that I can pull my arms free, and he leans down, kissing my neck. He catches at my skin with his teeth.