This Will Only Hurt a Little(75)

I’ve told this story for years, in the hopes that it would somehow get back to him, I think. I always wanted him to know that you can have all the money and success in the world, but when you’re a fucking asshole, you’re a fucking asshole and that’s all there is to it. A year ago, at an Emmy after-party, Marc and I were standing at a table. I was a little tipsy from tequila when Steve Levitan and his girlfriend came up and set their drinks down at the same table. I’ve seen Steve many times over the years, occasionally saying hi but mostly just shooting daggers that he’s completely unaware of in his direction. Such is the joy of being an oblivious super-successful white man in this business. This was a few short months before all the shit hit the fan in terms of #metoo and the Harvey Weinstein articles, but I was already over holding things in to protect myself for future work. Besides, he had already created Modern Family. He wasn’t going to create another one. He couldn’t do anything to me or for me, so fuck it. I looked at Marc. “I’m gonna tell him.”

Marc’s eyes went wide as I turned my attention back to Steve.

“Hey, Steve,” I said brightly. “How are you?”

He barely looked up from his phone. “Oh. Hey, Busy. How are you?”

He introduced me to his girlfriend, who seemed young and sweet. “Oh my God!” she said. “Hi! I LOOOOOVE YOU!”

“Oh, thanks, that’s really nice!” I said, then turned back to him. “So listen, Steve! I’m writing a book—I have a book deal, actually. Like a real book! And you’re gonna be in it. Well, there’s a story with you in it, I should say.”

He looked up, finally interested. “Really? Why?”

“You probably don’t remember this. I mean, I’m sure it was so inconsequential in your life, but you were a real fucking dick to me when I won the Critics’ Choice Award, and it’s always really bugged me. You could have just congratulated me, but you didn’t. You came up to talk to Courteney and then said that everyone from your show didn’t even think the awards were real even though I had just won one, against Julie and Sofía.”

“Oh shit. Did I say that?”

“Yeah. And it sucked. Because it was a really big deal to me, and I enjoyed the moment for like five minutes before you came over and made me feel like an idiot.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. I’m sure it was all about me. I bet I was just insecure or something.”

“Yeah, Steve, that’s kind of how being a dick works. I know it wasn’t about me. But it still sucked. Look, you have your show and your millions of dollars and all the fucking awards. I have one. That one. And you made me feel shitty about it. That’s all. I just think you could have done better. As a person.”

“Well . . . I’m really sorry.”

“Okay. I’m really not looking for an apology. I just wanted you to know.” I turned to his girlfriend, whose mouth was agape, and dare I say, she looked like she was kind of enjoying it. “It was nice to meet you, honey, have a good night.”

And with that, I grabbed my clutch and walked away, with Marc following close behind whispering excitedly, “You are such a fucking badass, Busy. Such a fucking badass.”





GOOD INTENTIONS PAVING COMPANY


(Joanna Newsom)


Birdie was about to turn four. All of a sudden, I had to have another baby. I know I had said “one and done.” I know I had told anyone who would listen that there was no way I was having another baby. But now I had a kid. And I wanted a baby. I had a job, and if we timed it right, I wouldn’t even have to miss an episode. As an actress, you don’t really get maternity leave. Depending on your show, you either miss episodes and they don’t pay you, or they make you come to work no matter how old your newborn is. Marc emphatically did not want another child. Our adjustment to Birdie had been rough, to say the least. He was finally feeling like we had gotten a handle on parenting and then we were going to throw another wrench into it? The wrench being another human child, obviously.

“She wants a baby,” I said. “Ask her. She wants someone else.”

Marc looked at me skeptically, “She’s three. She doesn’t know anything.”

“She’s smart. She told me it’s boring because it’s just her and grown-ups. She wants a baby. I want a baby.”

“Birdie! Come here. Do you want Mommy to have another baby?”

“Yeah. It’s boring for me. It’s just me and you guys.”

We were in Anguilla, on vacation before I had to return to Cougar Town for the fifth season. I looked at Marc. I told you so.

“We’ll see, Buddy.” Birdie jumped back into the shallow water and Marc looked at me seriously. “If we do this, it’s all on you. You have to hire all the help you need. I’ll take care of Birdie, but seriously, I don’t think this is the best idea. I just want to say that.”

I nodded and threw away my pills that day. I had figured out the timing. I needed to be pregnant by the end of October in order to not miss any episodes, and it would put me back at work with a four-or five-week-old baby. I could do that. Also, my friend Ashlee had the best baby nurse for me: I would be fine. I would eat placenta pills and make sure I didn’t have postpartum anxiety again, and if I did I would get medication as soon as I could, even if I had to stop breastfeeding. I would be chill. I could do this. People have more than one kid all the time! We can do this!