Chapter Ten Chloe #3
“Chlo, I feel very strongly that you shouldn’t post any pictures of yourself flying private. It isn’t relatable.”
“Well it’s relatable to me!” she peevishly retorted.
“But not to all your followers in the flyover states, Chlo.”
“They’re called ‘followers’ for a reason! They won’t even know what they are looking at!”
“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what you have to do—”
“Yet that is exactly what you are doing right now—”
“No, it’s up to you, but if you don’t take it down, be aware there may be ramifications.”
“Okay, I hear you. Loud and clear.” Then Chloe instantaneously pivoted from petulance to imperiousness. “Momsy, would you get me a kombucha?”
“They’re in the kitchen, you know where to find them,” she replied tartly, then briskly walked off.
Jane pondered the meaning of Lisa’s threat, which was vague yet ominous. Chloe, brow furrowed, considered for a moment, then poked at her phone and tossed it on the bed.
“I guess she’s right. God, I mean, whatever. Moms are a lot, right?”
Chloe’s bathroom was about the size of Jane’s bedroom.
The mirrors above the sink and on the facing wall created a dizzying multiplier effect.
On the wall above the toilet and bidet were shelves holding bins of makeup, hair products, and beauty miscellany.
This could prove to be a quagmire, but Chloe was brisk and decisive.
Even if she was only fifteen, she was, above all, a businesswoman.
Chloe sat at the bathroom vanity and applied a shade of lipstick, a coral pink that Jane grudgingly admired, then looked at her image endlessly refracted in the infinity of the mirrors.
“Ugh. I get so fucking sick of looking at myself sometimes.”
Chloe was sick of looking at herself. This could turn out to be the most authentic moment all day. Now Jane saw in this slick, processed, packaged teenager, a flash of real, aching vulnerability, and felt a tightness, a sorrow, ball up in her chest.
“That shade is really pretty on you, Chloe. I think you should keep it.”
It felt like the middle of the night when she got to her car, though it was only five thirty. It got dark so early in December, and there was a bracing chill in the air. People who claimed there were no seasons in LA weren’t paying attention.
As she drove off, specters of those cloned dogs with their eerie button eyes haunted Jane.
It was a monstrous exercise of wealth as a means of control, as a means of denial, as an attempt to cheat death.
And a cheat is all it was: even though Lisa’s dog had come back to life two times over, it was also still dead.
Maybe Lisa was hoping she could eventually clone herself and be immortal. Beverly Hills hubris.
Jane wondered if Chloe felt trapped by her influencer business. Was she the engine of the whole enterprise, or was Lisa the latest iteration of a stage mother, funneling her desire for fame through her daughter?
Jane felt like her own mother, burdened by caring for her son and with few resources left for her daughter, had never shown much interest in what Jane did, let alone offered her any encouragement.
Jane wavered, then reached for her phone. Stuck in traffic on Sunset Boulevard was as good a time as any. The phone rang two times.
“Oh, Jane, hello.” Her mother sounded distracted. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. How is John?”
“He’s the same.” It was a well of pain for her.
“Oh, I wish I could visit....”
“Yes, we’ll miss you at Christmas.”
“It’s a very busy time for work.”
“Of course.”
Jane’s mother didn’t ask about Teddy.
“I’m thinking about getting a dog,” Jane blurted. What?
“Oh, but won’t it be alone all day? You couldn’t take it to work, could you?” Jane’s mother’s superpower was the ability to problematize everything.
“I could figure it out.”
“Try to get one that doesn’t shed.” Her mother sighed. “Your father claims he wants one, but we have too much going on, and they make so much mess.”
“Yeah.”
“But if he really wanted one, he would get one. You know your father.”
“Ha! Yes I do. Alright, well—let’s talk soon....” Jane steeled herself. Why was this so hard?
“I love you, Mom.”
Even if she wasn’t sure she meant it, she had said it.
There was a long pause.
“Oh. Thank you... I, uh, sorry, your brother’s hollering, I have to go.”
Jane shook her head. Her mother was stunted in so many ways. Maybe, Jane thought, this was why the concept of unconditional love felt so foreign to her. She was only familiar with the conditional kind. This could explain why she wanted a dog; they were fonts of unconditional love.
The traffic light had turned green and the driver behind Jane laid on the horn. Startled out of her reverie, she looked up and hit the gas. The only way to go was forward.
The doorbell rang. Jane took a quick glance in the mirror before opening the door.
“You didn’t have to ring, Teddy, you still technically live here.”
“Well, yeah, but... I figured I should.” Teddy shrugged. “I mean, it’s been a minute.”
He handed her the bottle of wine he was holding. As she took it, Jane wondered if the sommelier he was dating had chosen it for him.
“Thanks. Come on in!”
They hugged, a little awkwardly.
“You look really good, Jane.”
“Thanks, but—eh, not really.”
“You’re never one to just accept a compliment, huh?” Teddy chuckled.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Well, I meant it.”
“Thanks, Teddy.” She took him in, willing herself not to be annoyed by the stupid beanie on his head. He had such nice hair; it was one of his best features—why did he hide it under a beanie? “You look good, too. I’m glad we’re finally getting together. It’s been... weird.”
“Yeah, it has.”
When Jane cooked, she was fastidious about her mise en place.
Once all the necessary ingredients were set out on the counter, measured and prepped, she could enjoy the process of cooking.
This dish was rather simple—rib eye steaks, shallots, parsley, red wine, a lot of butter, potatoes and watercress on the side. She could make it quickly and by rote.
Teddy studied her as she plated the food. “So efficient.”
“Well, after all, it’s me, Teddy.”
He laughed. “Smells so good. I’m really glad you asked me over, Jay.”
Jane smiled and set the plates down on the table. “I’m glad you’re here. I miss having someone to eat with, I have to say...”
“You miss having ‘someone’ or do you miss having me?”
“Of course I meant you, Teddy! God!” Jane giggled. She was surprised to hear herself giggling.
“Just making sure.”
Between bites of food, they caught each other up on what each had been up to, while avoiding any discussion about their respective dating lives. Teddy chortled when Jane told him she had spent the day with an influencer.
“Oh, wow, that must’ve been absolute hell for you.”
“The most disturbing part was that her mother cloned her dog—she had two clones! It was some sci-fi horror in real time.”
“Wow, so many levels of wrong there.”
“Oh yeah. The influencer, I guess she wasn’t really that bad. She’s just a teenager. All I know is we’re lucky none of that crap existed when we were that age.”
Teddy told her living with Keith was getting a little exhausting. Keith wanted to go out and do something all the time, making it hard to get him to focus on the projects they were supposed to be collaborating on.
“Which projects?”
“Well, I’ve pretty much given up on the screenplay with him; he never actually wants to sit down and write. Our main effort is trying to score enough followers on Twitch to monetize that.”
“That whole world is alien to me.”
“Well, you’re not a gamer, so it won’t make a lot of sense to you.”
“I’ve tried Fortnite !” Jane protested, adding, “But I know how bad I suck at it.”
“Yeah, you’re like epically bad at it,” Teddy agreed with a wink. “It’s kind of cute.”
“The thing I don’t understand is why anyone would want to sit around watching someone else play...?”
“Gamers do and that’s our audience. I’m sort of the straight man and handle all the tech.” Teddy hesitated. “I know you’ll hate this, but the gimmick is Keith gets drunk, and then plays under the influence.”
“You’re right, I do think I hate that.”
“Sometimes he does it stoned, or, you know, rolling on Molly. It’s sort of a PSA, because we always say he would be doing much better if he weren’t wasted. We tell people this is solid proof you should never drive under the influence of anything.”
Jane laughed. Teddy did have a way of making her laugh, and if he liked the company of a pubescent sommelier, that was his business.
Teddy asked what she was planning for the holidays.
Jane shrugged. “Nothing really. Probably Christmas with Anna. I mean, Christmas is sort of my worst nightmare—all the frantic buying, the awful eggnog everyone pretends to like, and all those gross baked goods, like those humongous tins of butter cookies from Costco which aren’t even made with butter. ”
“You really know how to suck the joy out of things, don’t you?”
“Yes, I excel at it. Thank you. See! I just accepted a compliment.”
Teddy shook his head. “I’m not sure it was really a compliment, but okay.
I’m not trying to bust your chops, Jay. And I do get why all that stuff grosses you out, but the holidays are also a time to hang with family and friends.
And by the way, all the clutter and consumption is what keeps you in business, right? ”
“True,” Jane reluctantly conceded.
“You don’t always have to go to the glass being half empty.”
“I don’t. Sometimes I go to, ‘There is no glass. And even if there were a glass, there’s no table to put it on.’ ” A little bit of self-deprecating humor seemed appropriate.
Teddy shook his head. “You make life so hard for yourself.”
“Maybe. But I get a lot of assistance from the world at large.”
Teddy sighed. “I wish you could relax, allow yourself to be open to the possibility of things going well, the possibility of being happy.”
“That’s really sweet. I wish for that, too. I’ll make it my Christmas wish.”