Nora Goes Off Script(45)

He took the sunrise. He took the tea house. Now he’s going to take my million bucks. I think of Leo puttering around in his Bel Air mansion with Naomi, maybe planning a post-shoot trip someplace tropical. I think of my credit card balance and the ugly fact that Arthur’s definitely going to need braces. “Okay,” I tell her. “How about this? Keep this shiny cupcake version in case we need it. Let me see if I can come up with an ending to the other one.”

“Really? I’m so happy!” I can hear the cash register ringing in her mind. I can also see the cash advance I’m going to have to take on my eighteen percent APR credit card to make my October mortgage payment. “Let’s try for mid-October. The film opens October third, so that’s when the buzz will start and we’ll have some idea how it’s going to do. And you’ll be expected at the New York opening. I forget where it is, but I’ll send that to you.”

“I’m not going to that.”

“Nora. This is your time. You’ve written a really powerful script and you deserve to walk the red carpet and enjoy it. Don’t let him take that from you.”

I resolve not to decide. Tomorrow I’ll start reworking the true script, the version called Sunrise, not the one called Country Love. I like the idea of being a serious writer and making real money. I like the idea of flying out to Hollywood to, well, I don’t even know what they do out there. I’d need highlights and different clothes, and that feels good too. As long as I can keep getting men to leave me, I’ll be a huge success. Shouldn’t be a problem.

My kids are arguing in the living room. There’s an issue with the Xbox, and I decide not to engage. “Let’s all go up and brush teeth,” I say.

“Fine,” they say together, scowling.

When I’ve tucked Bernadette in, I find Arthur in bed. At the squeak of his bedroom door, he’s a frenzy of sheets and something is hidden under the covers. “Oh hey, Mom,” he says in a voice I don’t know.

It’s porn, I think. How can this be happening? He’s in the sixth grade, he barely has hair on his legs. I have no man in the house to talk with him about this, and I certainly don’t know where to start. For the actual first time, I kind of wish Ben was here.

I sit down on the side of his bed and give him a hug. “What’s under the covers?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You had something. This is nothing to be ashamed about but we do need to talk about it. Where did you get it?”

Arthur looks at his hands. He looks at me. He starts to say something but can’t.

“Sweetie, it’s okay to be curious. But this isn’t the way. Where’d you get it?”

“Leo,” he says, and my heart stops.

Rage is beginning to spread through my chest when he pulls “it” out from under his covers and hands it to me. It’s a first edition copy of Oliver Twist. “Oh,” I say with a laugh. “Well, that’s nice. Wait, when did he give you this?”

“He sent it. In the mail. At the beginning of the summer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Arthur waits an eternity before answering. “Because I thought it would make you sad.”

“Oh, sweetie.” I run my hands over his too-long hair. I touch his too-young-for-porn face. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m happy you got such a nice present.”

“There was a note.” He thinks before asking, “Do you want to read it?”

I think before answering, “Yes.”


Dear Arthur,


Mrs. Sasaki sent me the DVD of opening night, and I’ve watched it twice already. You nailed it, every single line, every single song. I don’t think that I could have had such command of the stage at your age. In everything you do, I hope you can own it like you did that night.


I hope you have a chance to read this book. It’ll be easy, you know all the lines already. Have a fun summer and please say hi to everybody.


Love,

Leo



What the actual fuck.



* * *



? ? ?

The endings to Sunrise are coming at me in full force. Leo is on his way back to me but gets hit by a train. Maybe it’s a slow train so it doesn’t kill him right away and he’s in agony living in a dirty third world hospital. He has lice. So much lice.

I want Leo to have lice and a bladder infection in the worst way. I google “can men get bladder infections?” They can! “. . . say hi to everybody.” It wasn’t even its own sentence. I shared half a sentence with my eight-year-old daughter, Mrs. Sasaki, Kate. Hell, everybody. We had a romance. Or at least we slept together. I should go back to Sunrise and read it, because I swear I’m getting confused.

No, it was a romance. At night, when he was in the tea house and I was in my room, he’d text me Miss you and all of the cells in my body would start moving at triple speed. We’d text back and forth for hours some nights, until finally I’d tell him that the sun was coming up in four hours, and that maybe we should get some sleep. He’d reply, Can’t wait.

I barely slept those two weeks, except for the afternoons in the tea house. Even some of those days, I’d stay awake and watch him sleep. Isn’t this how you brainwash someone? Deprive them of sleep and feed them a lot of lies? I decide I’ve been brainwashed and wonder how many other women have fallen for this nonsense.