Chapter 19
The Fate of Chrissy Jenkins
Rebecca took a car to my place the next night.
In a perfect world I could have hung out in the Jaffe’s lobby until she’d finished with her team, bought her an espresso she’d deem mediocre from the stand in the courtyard, and brought her home so we could get ready together.
I reminded myself that even in the perfect world where I could date openly, I wouldn’t be openly going out with my director while we were in rehearsals.
No shade intended to Ashlee and her indie film boy, but Rebecca and I had truly found ourselves the worst situationship possible.
Though when I opened the side door as Rebecca let herself through the gate it was difficult to use the word worst about anything.
She was in a sheer black top, buttoned all the way up with nothing underneath but a black bra, over jeans and Nikes that I was certain cost more than the rest of the look combined.
“Wow,” I said, and laughed at myself. “Sorry. Sometimes I feel like you’re just messing with me.”
“How so?” she asked, reaching me and pulling me into her arms to kiss me. “Are you ready to go?”
“Well, I was,” I said, taking a step back from her and glancing down at my standard don’t-look-at-me outfit. “I need to switch out my contacts for my glasses but otherwise … your tone says you didn’t think I was actually ready to go.”
Rebecca’s eyes surveyed me in her calm, neutral, trust-her-she’s-the-director manner. “Could I see your closet?”
I agreed, even though I wished I was like Rebecca, wished I could knock her off of her feet. I wanted to show up looking like her exact fantasies.
“Oh my god,” Rebecca called, from deep within my walk-in closet. “This is my dream.”
“Which part?” I asked. “Going back in the closet?”
She laughed. “For this storage space, maybe. You have so much! And it’s so organized.”
“It’s all boring, too,” I admitted, though I tried to remember if I cared about that before Rebecca rolled into town. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“What are you talking about? This is a dream,” she said in a revering tone. “OK, take those off.”
“Take what off?” I asked, as Rosie dashed through the room and barked into the closet.
Rebecca emerged with a pile of clothes and shifted them onto one arm so she could pet Rosie with her other. “All of it. Strip, Gardner.”
I stepped out of my jeans, pulled the lightweight sweater off over my head. “You know I dress to blend in.”
“Trust me?” she asked, and I found myself nodding and letting her hand off items to me.
A different pair of jeans, a sleeveless top cropped right at my waist—“Aren’t I too old to wear this?
”—a slouchy leather jacket, and a pair of shiny gold loafers I’d been gifted and worried were too ridiculous for real life.
“You aren’t too old,” Rebecca said, sitting on the floor with Rosie to watch me dress. “On IMDb or in real life.”
I glanced in the mirror, ready to see someone who could never fade into a crowded bar, but the truth was that I looked the same level of nothing-to-see-here-move-along and yet … better. More myself. Even with a narrow strip of my midriff showing, even with the loafers.
“Hang on.” Rebecca stood up and pulled a thin gold chain from under her shirt. She unclasped it and leaned in to fasten it around my neck. “Perfect.”
“Was this your grandmother’s?” I asked, pressing my fingertips against the metal, still warm from Rebecca’s body.
“No, that one I gifted myself,” she said. “It was in a vintage shop and I’d just gotten the Tony nom, and I thought, yeah, Frisch, it’s yours. Ready to go?”
“Now that you approve of me, sure.”
“Oh my god,” she said with a laugh. “I always approve of you, Gardner. This is just how I have fun, and you’re very sweet to indulge me.”
She kissed me while Rosie barked, and we broke apart laughing and said goodbye to her before I led Rebecca to the garage.
Since Max had saved a parking spot for us behind the bar, I took the Audi instead of the Porsche, even though Rebecca had looked longingly in its direction as I backed out.
The bar, Johnny’s, was a short drive away in Silver Lake’s Sunset Junction district, near hipster brunch cafés and an Erewhon.
While I prided myself on my parallel-parking abilities, even on Silver Lake’s twisty hills and busy boulevards, it was nice to swing into an open space tonight, just for us.
“This is such a cute neighborhood,” Rebecca said, craning her neck around as we walked to the back door and I texted Max. “Why does everyone in New York complain about LA so much? Do you think they’re just jealous?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
An industrial-style door popped open, and Max leaned out, casual in a patterned short-sleeved button-down over jeans and Dr. Martens. “You found it.”
“I’m good with directions,” I said, giving her a hug as we stepped into the back room of the bar. A mild din sounded just beyond the wall. “Why do you think I’m always having them negotiate car service out of my deals?”
She laughed, hugging me back. “Joyce definitely thinks you do that just to fuck with her, like all-green-M&M’S riders or whatever. So please never stop doing it.”
“This is Rebecca Frisch,” I said, stepping back from Max. “Rebecca, this is Max Van Doren, the very coolest member of my whole team.”
“Oh my god, no.” Max laughed as she gazed up at Rebecca, who was nearly a literal foot taller than Max. “I’m just the youngest and it confuses people. It’s great to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca said, shaking her hand. “And thanks for setting this up for us. And for being young and cool.”
“Please, no,” Max said, blushing. “OK, you can just go through that door there, and the booth’s the first one on your left, you’ll see it. Sadie’s working and she’ll do table service for y’all.”
“Ooh,” I said, “I get to meet your girlfriend!”
“She’ll be very professional and would kill me if I told you this,” Max said, “but she’s a huge fan and super excited to meet you. Her calm will be masking a lot.”
Rebecca laughed. “The human condition, huh?”
Max looked like she might literally swoon, so I thanked her and led Rebecca through the door into the bar.
It was pretty standard for an Eastside bar, dim lighting and original hardwood flooring, accent walls with bold wallpapered panels, except that I’d never been anywhere when it was immediately apparent from the clothes and the haircuts and the people holding hands with one another that no one here was straight.
“The booth’s there,” Rebecca said, steering me over because I’d been too stunned by the vibe of the room to do much but stand there and stare. “This is such a great space. No—Gardner, take the other side of the booth, facing the wall. You OK there?”
I sank into the booth and exhaled. “I didn’t know it would feel like this to be here, you know?”
She rested her hand on my leg under the table, squeezed my knee. “We can go if you want—”
I shook my head. “No, I meant in a good way. When I met you—when I found out you—”
“Hey there.” A woman I recognized from Max’s Instagram feed, shaggy brown hair that flopped into her face, a faded Dodgers T-shirt that hugged her curves, vintage jeans, stood at our booth. “Can I get you two some drinks?”
Max popped up next to her. “I just wanted to introduce you. Sadie, this is Tess, who’s my favorite client as long as you don’t tell any of my other clients. And Rebecca, who I just met but—”
“It’s so great to meet you both,” Sadie said, shaking our hands in a casual manner that felt very deliberate. “Should I give you a few minutes or—”
“We’ll have whatever you recommend,” Rebecca said in a smooth tone that said she knew how to talk to women, especially knew how to talk to women in spaces like this. She knew exactly how she looked in that sheer shirt, exactly what she did to people.
“Great, I’ll be back in a few,” she said, and glanced at me quickly before heading back behind the bar.
Rebecca nudged my knee with hers. “That was cute.”
“Oh, like Max wasn’t looking at you like she wanted to climb you,” I said, and Rebecca cracked up. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”
“Yeah, what were you saying?” she asked gently. “Before?”
I leaned in, even though the faint buzz of the bar kept our little corner just ours as it was.
“There was this moment when I felt like—you know, back then, when I found out you were—anyway. I felt like I’d only recently realized I wasn’t from this planet, and for the first time—sorry, no. This is so stupid.”
“Gardner,” she said softly. “I know I made it all seem good and easy back then, but just because I grew up in a more progressive area, have parents who vote the same way I do, it doesn’t mean I didn’t go through it too.
If you think you have to explain how isolating it can feel to be the only queer person in a room … ”
“I’d obviously met gay people before,” I said. “I don’t understand why it felt that way, that after I knew—do you remember that? Cory Pennington was harassing you and you were all, I’m a lesbian in the most badass way possible?”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow. Barely. I doubt it was very badass.”
I shook my head, as Sadie approached us with two shimmering pink drinks in rocks glasses. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome. I’ll check in on you in a bit.”
Rebecca held up her glass, and I mirrored her. “To gay bars.”
“To Cory Pennington.”
“To you in those glasses,” she said, resting her chin on her hand and watching me.
“To you in that shirt,” I said, and grinned before taking a sip of my drink. “I really did feel like we were the only two survivors of that planet. It’s so na?ve, I know. Even then it was na?ve. I’d met other queer people. I’d gone to acting school in New York, for god’s sake.”
“And girls must have hit on you,” Rebecca said. “All the time.”