Nora Goes Off Script(48)
Actual panic is creeping in. I’m not thinking about this film as much as I am about Sunrise. I need to take it back. I don’t care so much about people knowing I had an affair with a movie star, but I do mind them knowing how much it meant to me. I can’t take the chance that Leo ever sees that script, or that, God forbid, it gets made and he’s cast as himself. I imagine him saying everything he ever said to me to some starlet to whom he’s infinitely better suited. I imagine him reading it and thinking, Poor thing, she had it bad.
Heads turn toward the left theater entrance, and I know from the excitement on their faces that Leo and Naomi are walking in. I pull my wrap around me more tightly and try to make myself small. Penny takes in a breath. They make their way down to their seats and greet people as they go. He’s in a tux; she’s in red to match the carpet. I wonder how many haircuts he’s had since I’ve seen him. I’m sure he’s going to turn his head and see me, but instead he motions for Naomi to go first into the row of seats, leading her by the elbow and tossing her a quick smolder.
“He’s about to look over here, sit up,” Penny tells me out of the side of her mouth. “Act like I said something funny.” I have no laugh to give, but he takes his seat without looking our way anyway.
“I have to get out of here,” I say.
The look on Penny’s face tells me I’ve probably gone white. She makes her apologies like Bugs Bunny leaving the opera as we step over people’s feet to get free. She leads me out of the theater to a lobby bench. “Are you going to faint or something?” she asks. “Do you want a Coke?”
“I need to breathe, and I need to rethink everything. Literally everything.” Tears start falling, and I don’t even care. “I feel like I’ve planned a vacation to hell. Like I literally chose every flight and car ride, packed my bags, and now I’m saying, ‘Wait. What am I doing in hell?’?”
Penny puts her arm around me. “You kinda did.”
“What was I thinking falling in love with that guy? What was I thinking writing a movie about my divorce and then showing up here tonight to watch it acted out by my old boyfriend and his girlfriend? Am I seriously supposed to watch them break up in the exact location of the last place I’ll probably ever have sex?”
“You might have sex again,” she says.
“And what was I thinking agreeing to do it all again? Like a whole new movie about my bad taste in men?”
“Nora?” It’s Weezie with a clipboard and a sweet smile. She hands me a tissue. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I say. “This is my sister, Penny.”
She takes a seat on the other side of me. “Too hard?”
“Too hard.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I just wanted you to have that part of the movie where he sees you in your silver dress and realizes what a fool he’s been.”
“Me too!” says Penny. “That’s all I wanted. I could taste it.”
“I sort of imagined their eyes meeting as he got out of the limo,” starts Weezie.
“And he’d smile softly and remember everything they had,” Penny continues.
“And he’d slowly make his way over to her and touch her face. Or take her hand? I don’t know exactly, but you know what I mean.”
“I like that part of the movie too,” I say, and they sigh. “Well, I do, and I don’t. That scene is sort of an insult to both of them. Like all that’s happening there is that he remembers she’s pretty so he loves her again. It’s not like he sees her run into a burning building to rescue an old guy. It’s not like anything’s changed. It’s like he just got distracted by something shiny.”
“Screenwriters,” Weezie says and rolls her eyes.
“You can’t build a life around a guy thinking you’re pretty. It’s not a thing.”
“Okay,” she says.
“It’s just not enough. Don’t ever settle for that.”
Penny’s had enough. “Weezie, we need a plan. Like, she’s going to have to say hello to him at some point. I imagine the after-party’s a pretty small affair. Should she call him out? Play it cool? What’s your take?”
“Tell me those aren’t the only two choices,” I say. “I’m incapable of either of those things.”
Weezie laughs. “Polite’s a safe bet. You could pull that off.”
Polite probably is the best way to save face. I can be polite and wish them both well and they can stop feeling sorry for me and we can all move on. But I know I can’t pull it off, not even in these shoes. If I have to stand right in front of Leo and look in his eyes, I’m going to show my hand. And by “hand,” I mean broken heart.
“I’m not quite there yet,” I tell them. “I think I’m going to get some popcorn and we can head home.”
CHAPTER 18
One day I wake up and I’m a feminist hero. Which is funny because I’m still fantasizing about the really cute guy showing up and rescuing me from myself. The Tea House is being called “a primer on retaining your personal power.” Women are comparing it to both their own life experiences and those of women throughout history. My favorite quote is from one of the women on The View: “The Tea House shows us that victimhood is a choice. We get to decide how we feel.” What a load of crap.