Chapter 25 Marsh #3
“We eventually got to a place that was normal again. But when I started writing about sex, he was upset. He didn’t think it was appropriate. My mom learned to accept it, but my dad always saw it as a reflection on him, or maybe me getting back at what he did…and I don’t care.”
“Well, he can be uncomfortable with it and that’s his problem,” I say.
“My mom used to ask me why I’m not in a relationship, or why I don’t get married,” she huffs.
“Her and my dad want grandchildren so badly, and every time she asks, I feel like I die a little. They’re never going to get those things, and I don’t know how many more ways to tell them.
You’d think they’d understand why I don’t want to get married. ”
“You are not your parents, Lucy,” I say confidently. It’s the first time I’m really interjecting in this conversation because it’s not my place to tell her how to feel, but she needs to know. “What happened to your parents will not happen to you.”
“Why are you so sure of that?”
“Because things like that don’t happen to everyone, Lucy. That’s like a million in one chance and you can’t go through life anticipating it’s going to happen to you.”
“It doesn’t need to happen to me, Marsh,” Lucy says, and there’s a heavy silence between us. “And don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m this fragile thing that’s gone through so much,” she says. “My heart’s not made of glass.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t treat it like it is,” I say.
She inhales slowly and gives me a flimsy grin. The tiniest look of gratitude brings me more purpose than I’m willing to admit. We’re both heading toward something neither of us expected to go, and I’m already in too deep.
“Have you ever been heartbroken?” I ask.
“No,” she says, and I don’t know if she’s proud or embarrassed. “It sounds cliché, I really know it does. But honestly, it’s so much easier to not get your heart broken if you don’t let anyone touch it.”
Lucy’s words sit with me for the remainder of the drive.
Here I was thinking that someone did this to Lucy.
At some point in her dating history an ex mistreated her, causing her to put a shield around her heart.
But Lucy’s never let it get to that point.
She’s never let anyone even close enough. I had a notion, but now it’s confirmed.
Lucy’s never been in love.
Once we exit Verdugo, Lucy turns the volume on the car radio down. “Okay, nooow can you tell me where we’re going?”
“I told you; it’s a surprise.” I stand my ground. “You’re very impatient.”
“I just want to know what’s going on,” Lucy says. “I like being in control!”
“I can remember a few times where you liked when I was in control.”
She blushes. “That’s different.”
To my luck, I nab a parking spot on the same block as the restaurant I booked a reservation for. Once I parallel park and turn off my car, Lucy freezes.
“Wait…” She looks out the window. “Are we going to Audrey’s?”
Audrey’s is East LA’s newest Italian classic red sauce joint.
Anyone in the greater Los Angeles area has heard of Audrey’s because it’s the newest baby of former chef and owner of Alden, a Michelin-starred restaurant in New York.
It opened late last year and has been notorious for being completely full every night since.
Getting a reservation to this place has been harder than finding a barista in Silver Lake without a tattoo.
“Have you been?” I ask.
“No! Marsh, it’s impossible to get reservations here…Oh my god!” She turns to me, wide-eyed.
“Okay, great,” I say, relieved. “I haven’t been either.”
“How did you get a reservation?”
“Thankfully, I’m friends with a journalist who covered their review in the LA Times.”
“Wow,” she says. “And he just got you a reservation like that?”
“He owed me one,” I say.
She clicks her tongue. “Who you know really pays off, doesn’t it?” We get out of the car, and Lucy stomps in place like a little kid. “I’m really excited.”
“I can tell.” I wrap an arm around her and place a kiss on her head.
“I have seriously been dying to come here. I keep seeing everyone post about it.”
The hostess guides us inside, and the restaurant looks like a traditional Italian joint meets East Coast supper club.
It’s the perfect backdrop for a photo op.
There are gold curtains, floral wallpaper, and a clientele that feels aggressively attractive and cool, but at the same time could not care less about their appearance.
We walk across the checkerboard floor, past the long wooden bar, until we’re at one of the more ideal tables in the restaurant.
It’s a quaint spot, filled with friends gossiping around us and couples on first dates or celebrating anniversaries.
Once we settle and start looking at the menu, Lucy and I decide on garlic bread, arugula salad, lasagna, and veal parmigiana.
“I’m starving,” Lucy says, taking a sip of her red wine. In the dimly lit restaurant, there’s a warm glow to her. She’s like a goddamn painting that I can’t stop staring at, admiring every stroke and detail.
Aside from Lucy’s perfect exterior, there’s a complexity to her way of thinking, a confidence in anything she does, and I’ve barely scratched the surface.
Now that I’ve gotten to see one of her layers peeled back, I only want to know what else there is to discover.
All of it—the dark, hard, and scary parts of her that will still shine so bright.
My phone then vibrates on the table and I flip it over to find a text from Nadia.
Nadia:
Just in—Presidential lawsuit. Can you turn something around in an hour? Emailing you details now.
My heart rate spikes and I panic.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Unless I write something here and now on my phone it would probably take me forty-five minutes alone just to get home. I try to think fast. I can probably pull something together. It won’t be the best story, but it will be what Nadia’s looking for.
“Is everything okay?” Lucy asks.
I take my attention away from my screen, and when I look up, I realize Lucy’s the only thing I want to be looking at tonight.
“Yeah,” I say and adjust my glasses. “Just need to quickly respond to Nadia.”
Marsh:
Hey, I’m sorry but I’m away from my laptop. I won’t be able to turn this around.
I hit send and then immediately regret it. What have I done? Of course I can turn it around. I know Lucy would understand.
I start typing a follow-up message, redacting my text, and Nadia beats me to it.
Nadia:
No worries. I have Ben on it. Have a good evening.
My heart rate immediately slows down. That’s it?
Part of me wonders if Nadia is banking this decline somewhere in her brain to use it against me later, but then I realize I’ve never said no to a story.
I also know how fast things turn around in news and how Nadia is probably already on to the next fire.
Maybe I don’t have to always go above and beyond to be respected. Maybe there isn’t such a thing as being perfect.
Maybe my job isn’t everything.
I put my phone away and bring my attention back to Lucy. “Sorry about that.”
“All good,” she says, smiling. “So, I was thinking, want to come to my boxing class tomorrow night?”
“If I’m welcome.”
“Really?” she says like she wasn’t expecting that answer.
“Yeah.” I take a sip of my beer. “Let’s do it.”
“Yay!” She beams. “I’m excited!”
There’s an earnest look of joy on Lucy’s face. I would do anything and everything to keep her that happy. I was so focused on giving everything to my job and being appreciated at work, I didn’t realize there were other parts of myself left to give. Parts of myself that I want to give.