Chapter 20
The next day, Lily’s thoughts kept returning to the mansion.
She was more troubled by Stacy Black than she felt she ought to be and she struggled to get to the bottom of it.
Was it that Stacy was a creature of the movie business, somehow magically skilled at capturing attention, holding it, and subverting a person’s sense of the way of things?
Lily knew she wasn’t dazzled by wealth and power.
Was she just seduced by the superficial glitter of this desert town, as Nicola was?
Had she fallen victim to it herself? She winced as she thought of herself playing the ukulele, laughing and talking about Pippi Beach with people who would never understand what it meant to her.
Nicola was not bothered by any such reflections. The only impressions she took from the pool party, Stacy Black, and LA life in general were favorable ones. Nicola adored the way everything looked and felt and refused to be bothered by troublesome details like where all the water came from.
“I think Stacy Black is magnificent,” Nicola declared. “Don’t you? You know she went to a state school, just like me. Grew up without a dad. Just like me. And she’s a Scorpio.”
“Fierce work ethic, steely ambition,” teased Lily. “You’re practically twins.”
“Oh, ha ha. Omigosh, that reminds me, I have to get to the mall.”
“Why?”
“Manicure.”
“You got one yesterday!”
“Yes, but Stacy says with my skin tone, this is all wrong.”
“But you love that color.”
“Stacy says no.”
“Stacy’s not wearing it.”
“But I said I’d change it and I booked it right in front of her yesterday! With her favorite technician!”
“You could cancel.”
“Are you insane? She’d find out! Wow, Lily. Rude. I’m wearing your hat. Thanks. Bye.” And she was gone.
Lily was happy enough to have a morning to herself. She made a cup of coffee and wandered out to the pool deck, where she spied Wilson through the kitchen window and made an abrupt about-face. It was too late. He had seen her.
“Hey! What a beautiful morning! I’ll be right there!” he called. And while Lily would have much preferred him not to join her, the sun was too nice to retreat, and after all, it was his pool deck, not hers.
Wilson emerged from the house in a colorful floral print shirt buttoned way too low, bearing a large oblong box, which he placed in front of her with a flourish.
“My lady.”
“What’s this?”
“A present.”
“Wilson, really—”
“I know, I know, you have some weird aversion to gifts, but honestly, I can afford it. So. Go ahead.”
Lily steeled herself and opened the box. Inside, nestled among clouds of orange tissue paper, she found a very pretty ukulele and a pair of satin high-heeled pumps.
“Wilson!”
“Try them on! They fit. I know they do, I got your size.”
Lily slipped them on and had to admit that they were supercool and made her legs look fabulous. Then she stood up and remembered why fabulous-looking legs were not worth the price.
“I can’t wear these!”
“Yes you can. It’s practice, that’s all it is.”
“But I don’t need them!”
“This is LA. You need heels.”
“I’ve already been to the Sunset Room.”
“Are you kidding? Nobody goes just once. And there are so many cool places—”
“I don’t go to those places.”
“I’m gonna take you.”
“And I already have a ukulele at home. It’s really sweet of you, Wilson, I’m touched. But it’s too much. I couldn’t fit them in my luggage anyway.” She started to pack the gifts away. “You should return them. Or save them, give them to someone who can use them.”
“You can use them while you’re here.”
Lily laughed. “I’m not here for that much longer.”
“But I want you to stay.”
Lily paused and checked Wilson’s face. Yes.
This was it, for real this time. She knew what he wanted of her, he was making it clear, and she needed to make it equally clear that it wasn’t going to happen.
But before she could draw breath on a firm but kind speech—he had, after all, put some thought into these very nice gifts—Wilson leaned forward and pressed his open mouth onto hers, tongue first. Lily backed away with such urgency that the lovely box on her lap slid to the deck and one heel bounced off into the pool, causing her to reflexively lunge after it as Wilson called her name and lunged after her.
Somehow they both ended up at the edge of the pool, Lily with her hands on a dripping shoe and Wilson with his hands clasped dramatically around Lily’s face.
“I love you,” he declared solemnly. “I always have and I always will. Lily. We are going to be magnificent together!” And he leaned in for another kiss.
But Lily was ready this time and jumped to her feet.
“No. Wilson, stop!” She fended him off with the heel. “I said no.”
At which, horrifyingly, he smiled. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do.”
Tense pause. Then he turned and sat down on a deck chair with the air of a professor patiently waiting for a student to grasp the obvious.
“So it’s like this, is it? After all we’ve been through?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You want to keep on playing some weird friend-zone-type game?”
“It’s not a game.”
“Everyone knows. And everyone’s happy for us.”
“Us?”
“You and me. Our relationship.”
“What do you mean, everyone?”
“Stacy. Mom. Nicola.” He smiled indulgently at her frown. “We can stop playing. Finally. And be together.” The emotion moved him to approach again. He took her hand and Lily was too confused to stop him.
“Stacy?” was all she managed to say, but Wilson barely heard her.
He was already waxing lyrical about their future together as boyfriend and girlfriend.
Everything was all planned. Nicola was happy to fly home alone, Lily could stay for several months more on a tourist visa, which would give them plenty of time to apply for another one, and in any case, Stacy and the entire production office were moving to Sydney later in the year to make a couple of movies in Australia, wasn’t that great?
Not that it mattered that much; it wasn’t as if Lily was committed to going to college there or anywhere else.
If she continued to build on the good impression she had already made, Stacy might just straight-out give her a job.
“I know you might want to stay on in the guesthouse at first,” he went on.
“I can see you want slow, I can go slow. You know that about me, I’m sensitive.
But with the housing market the way it is, and the money we could both be earning, we can look at getting our own place within a few years.
” She stared at him with incomprehension.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in. But imagine it. Our own place in West Hollywood.”
“West Hollywood?”
“Only for the first couple of years, babe; we would be back in Beverly Hills so quick and if Mom lends us—”
“No!”
“Okay, we can make it on our own if—”
“NO!” Lily screamed. “You’re not listening to me!”
“You don’t need to say anything. I understand.”
“No you don’t!” She snatched her hand out of his grasp. “I’m not into you, Wilson. I have never been into you.”
“Ah—well, that’s a lie.”
“It’s the truth.”
“The way you look at me—”
“I’ve been polite!”
“And smile at me, it’s pretty clear.”
“Polite! Nothing more! And if you’ve misunderstood that, I’m really sorry, but I want to make it perfectly clear, right here and now. I don’t want to be with you, Wilson. Not now. And not ever.”
Wilson finally seemed to hear her. He paused to think, which was a little frightening, and then he started to smile, which was much worse.
“I don’t think you can say that.”
“I am saying it.”
“You’re forgetting one thing.”
“No, I think I’ve covered it.”
“You’re forgetting the power of love, Lily.
Love does not give up on people. Love does not die.
And I love you, enough to look past whatever game this is, whatever feminist statement you feel you need to make by denying what is obvious.
To everyone. And when you fully understand that, I will be here. Waiting for you.”
Lily gave up. She returned to the unlucky box of gifts, shoved the sodden shoe back in among the tissue paper, well away from the ukulele, jammed the lid back on, and dumped it in Wilson’s hands.
“Thank you, but no.”
“These will be here for you,” he replied. “Whenever you’re ready.”
But Lily had already disappeared back into the guesthouse, cursing herself for letting this whole situation slide for so long, and cursing Wilson more for creating it in the first place.
The next week was tense. Lily avoided Wilson as much as she could, which was relatively easy when he was working, but he kept up a steady stream of texts that walked the line between apologetic and creepy.
Nicola found the whole thing hilarious and reassured Lily that Wilson would get over her soon enough, but when they opened their door to a massive delivery of flowers on Friday morning and a card featuring nothing but a question mark, Lily declared that something definitive must be done.
She marched the elaborate floral arrangement and its card straight back into the main house and placed them in front of Wilson’s mother.
“Wow! Someone has an admirer.”
“Yes,” said Lily. “I think you know who it is.”
“Oh, honey, Wilson is such a romantic boy, always was, and if it’s too much, you just tell him.”
“Actually, I did tell him, but he doesn’t seem to be listening.”
“You want him to slow down?”
“I want him to stop.”
Charlotte’s face fell. Lily felt sorry to disappoint her, but she had to stand her ground. “I’m not his girlfriend. And I don’t want to be.”
“I know he can be a bit intense, but he worships you. Honestly. He will move mountains for you. If there’s anything he can do—or I can do …”
“No.”
“You just want to be friends,” Charlotte confirmed, a little sadly.
“Yes.”
Charlotte sighed. She turned to the flowers and adjusted some of the orchids, which were colored like candy and bigger than her head. “I told him he should have gotten something more delicate. Roses. Pilar?”
Pilar appeared from nowhere.
“You want these? They just don’t go in here. Take them with you when you leave. Actually, pop them in your car now.”
Within seconds the offending flowers were gone and Lily had Charlotte’s word that Wilson would not bother her again.
“But you might want to keep your distance from him this weekend. I can get him to leave you alone. But I can’t get him to like it.”