Forever, Interrupted(87)
10. Elsie has a very distant relationship with her parents. How do you think their absence from her life affects first her courtship with Ben—and then later, her experience of mourning? Do Elsie’s views on family change over the course of the narrative? Do you think the novel distinguishes between what constitutes friendship and what constitutes family?
11. Ben and Elsie’s relationship is twice likened to a “supernova.” Discuss the two different contexts that this comparison appears in. Ultimately, do you think it is an applicable analogy for their love?
ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB
1. Pretend you are casting the film version of Forever, Interrupted. Who would play Elsie and Ben? Susan and Ana? What about Mr. Callahan?
2. Revisit Susan’s quote in question #6. Do you think this argument could be applied to the institution of marriage more generally? That is to say, if it doesn’t matter whether Elsie and Ben were married for nine days or zero, does marriage matter at all?
3. In The Year of Magical Thinking (the book Ana buys for Elsie), Joan Didion writes: “Marriage is memory, marriage is time. Marriage is not only time: it is also, paradoxically, the denial of time.” What do you think she means by this?
4. The evening of their first date, Ben and Elsie prepare to order Chinese food and quickly discover that they do not agree on their rice preferences. When Elsie suggests that they get two different orders of rice, Ben responds, “Maybe when the romance is gone we can do that, but not tonight”. Can you think of something that has in the past (or would in the future) signify to you that you’re past the early stage of a relationship? How does a concept like “romance” in a relationship change or manifest differently over time?
5. If Ben hadn’t gone out for Fruity Pebbles that night—if he had lived—what do you think would have been in store for Elsie and Ben’s marriage? And do you think Elsie would be as close to Susan?
Read on for a first look at Taylor Jenkins Reid’s compelling new novel
After I Do
part one
WHERE DOES THE GOOD GO?
We are in the parking lot of Dodger Stadium, and once again, Ryan has forgotten where we left the car. I keep telling him that it’s in Lot C, but he doesn’t believe me.
“No,” he says, for the tenth time. “I specifically remember turning right when we got here, not left.”
It’s incredibly dark, the path in front of us lit only by lampposts featuring oversized baseballs. I looked at the sign when we parked.
“You remember wrong,” I say, my tone clipped and pissed-off. We’ve already been here too long, and I hate the chaos of Dodger Stadium. It’s a warm summer night, so I have that to be thankful for, but it’s ten P.M., and the rest of the fans are pouring out of the stands, the two of us fighting through a sea of blue and white jerseys. We’ve been at this for about twenty minutes.
“I don’t remember wrong,” he says, walking ahead and not even bothering to look back at me as he speaks. “You’re the one with the bad memory.”
“Oh, I see,” I say, mocking him. “Just because I lost my keys this morning, suddenly, I’m an idiot?”
He turns and looks at me; I use the moment to try to catch up to him. The parking lot is hilly and steep. I’m slow.
“Yeah, Lauren, that’s exactly what I said. I said you were an idiot.”
“I mean, you basically did. You said that you know what you’re talking about, like I don’t.”
“Just help me find the goddamn car so we can go home.”
I don’t respond. I simply follow him as he moves farther and farther away from Lot C. Why he wants to go home is a mystery to me. None of this will be any better at home. It hasn’t been for months.
He walks around in a long, wide circle, going up and down the hills of the Dodger Stadium parking lot. I follow close behind, waiting with him at the crosswalks, crossing at his pace. We don’t say anything. I think of how much I want to scream at him. I think of how I wanted to scream at him last night, too. I think of how much I’ll probably want to scream at him tomorrow. I can only imagine he’s thinking much of the same. And yet the air between us is perfectly still, uninterrupted by any of our thoughts. So often lately, our nights and weekends are full of tension, a tension that is only relieved by saying good-bye or good night.
After the initial rush of people leaving the parking lot, it becomes a lot easier to see where we are and where we parked.
“There it is,” Ryan says, not bothering to point for further edification. I turn my head to follow his gaze. There it is. Our small black Honda.
Right in Lot C.
I smile at him. It’s not a kind smile.
He smiles back. His isn’t kind, either.
ELEVEN AND A HALF YEARS AGO
It was the middle of my sophomore year of college. My freshman year had been a lonely one. UCLA was not as inviting as I’d thought it might be when I applied. It was hard for me to meet people. I went home a lot on weekends to see my family. Well, really, I went home to see my younger sister, Rachel. My mom and my little brother, Charlie, were secondary. Rachel was the person I told everything to. Rachel was the one I missed when I ate alone in the dining hall, and I ate alone in the dining hall more than I cared to admit.