Chapter 34
D eborah stood in the kitchen, staring at Renee with her mouth hanging open. Renee was fresh from the airport, her bags dropped in the living room.
“You quit the movie?” Deborah said.
“I resigned from the film , Mom.”
“You only gave it four months.”
“It wasn’t the right project for me.”
Yesterday, Renee had left Lola’s, gone back to her hotel, and packed.
Anything that belonged to production, she left behind.
Whatever was still at Lola’s house, well, that was a loss, the rust-colored suit especially.
Then she booked a flight home and spent her final hours in L.A.
getting drunk in her room. She ignored her phone in favor of whatever was on TV until she fell asleep.
The next morning, she cleared her notifications without even looking at them.
At the airport, she’d fired off an email to Micah, Gloriana, and Lola officially resigning, and letting them know that everything she’d shot for them had been uploaded to production’s server.
As her plane took off, it was like drifting away from a dream that had gotten tedious. She was ready to wake up now.
Unfortunately, when that dream did end, Renee found herself in her mother’s house in Fellows, Michigan.
“Oh, Renee,” Deborah said in a freighted tone that managed to feel worse than her usual prodding. “Okay.”
Where was the encouraging lecture, the well-meant but vaguely insulting professional advice?
“ Okay? What does that mean?”
Deborah dried her hands on a Hanukkah dish towel. “It means, okay! If that’s what you want to do, okay. It’s your life, sweetie.”
Now it was Renee’s turn to stare.
Deborah continued, “If it’s not going to be film, something else needs to get you on your feet. I don’t want you living in my Airbnb for the rest of your life.”
“I don’t want that either!”
“Then we agree! Let’s give it one month, till New Year’s.”
“Give what one month?”
“Finding your own place to live. I love you like crazy, Ree-Ree, but I don’t want that love to hold you back. Free to fly means free to fall.”
A T P RINCE ’ S, THE winter seasonal drinks were on the menu. Renee packed the grounds for an espresso shot with a little extra force. Kadijah had been promoted to Renee’s old position as shift manager, which meant that when Renee had begged for her job back, Kadijah had been the one hiring.
The machine spewed out a frothy espresso shot. Renee sloshed it into a cup, topped it off with steamed milk, then dropped it on the counter.
The customer looked at it skeptically. “Is this cow milk? I ordered oat.”
Kadijah slid down the bar from the register, a big customer-service smile on their face. “We’ll remake that right away.”
They grabbed a carton of oat milk and practically shoved it into Renee’s chest. “That’s the fourth time this week, and it’s only Wednesday! What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” said Renee, who was pretty sure something was wrong with her.
“Then stop screwing up, because it would suck to have to fire you.”
Zane glared at her from behind his stack of poetry books.
Renee’s friendship with Kadijah still hadn’t settled back into its old rhythm.
Although they were working together again, they hadn’t really caught up.
Renee kept meaning to invite Kadijah for drinks, but moving home again hit her harder than she’d anticipated.
She was never in the mood to do anything anymore.
She struggled to get out of bed, felt sluggish no matter how many red eyes she drank.
Maybe she just needed to reacclimate to Michigan’s brutally cold and dismal December days, or for Kadijah to give her a break, so she wasn’t on eggshells at work, or to finally find a room to rent.
Though maybe moving out would help. She wouldn’t have to see the old Grigorian place every day.
More than once, she found herself staring out the window at the patchy snow in the backyard and thinking of the meteor shower.
Renee couldn’t remember now what the memory used to be, before Lola’s fantasy of it wormed its way into her brain.
She wasn’t upset that Lola wasn’t ready to come out.
Renee would never have manipulated Lola into that for her own sake.
But Lola had assured her, again and again, that it was what she really wanted to do.
Renee, fool that she was, believed her. Now, Lola was convinced Renee had bullied her into it.
Chronic people pleasers were like that. They thought they were putting everyone else first, but Lola had never understood how much energy Renee spent making sure that Lola was okay, because she could barely do it herself.
It had been exhausting, and Renee had done it at the cost of ignoring her own feelings.
If she hadn’t, things probably never would have gotten to this point.
Renee couldn’t believe she’d let herself fall so hard for Lola Gray.
R ENEE IGNORED D RAGAN’S emails.
S HE FOUND A room to rent through one of Zane’s friends.
It was affordable on her wage from Prince’s, but Renee knew the clock was ticking on her barista career.
Deborah was right about that: if Renee wasn’t going back to school, she’d have to find another job.
But the prospect of making a LinkedIn profile and sending out cover letters made Renee cry.
The tears seemed to spring straight from the doomful pit in her stomach.
Actually, she’d been crying a lot since she got back from L.A.
The tiniest things would set her off, like the way Dave looked at her mother or how the contestants on The Great British Bake Off were so brave about making their cakes.
The night before she moved, Deborah checked on Renee while she was packing, only to find her clutching a very high-end button-up shirt.
“That looks fancy,” Deborah said. “Did you get that out in L.A.?”
“It’s Lola’s,” Renee said weakly. “She loaned it to me, the first day of shooting.”
“I don’t want to pry but, Ree-Ree, is something wrong?”
Renee burst into tears.
She told her mom everything. Even though there was nothing Deborah could do to make it better—and Renee wasn’t sure she understood all the nuances of the story—she made Renee feel steadier.
Listening to her mom’s gentle mm-hmm s and Oh, Ree-Ree s as she talked, Renee realized with a pang that Lola didn’t have this, and never had.
The idea of Lola going to someone like Gloriana for reassurance made Renee’s heart ache, and she cried all over again.
“Am I—Am I like Dad?” Renee managed to ask.
“What does this have to do with him?” Deborah asked.
Renee scrubbed at her eyes. “I walked out, just like he did.”
“Oh, Ree-Ree, no! Your father didn’t just walk out.” Her mother squeezed her hand. “Your father and I hadn’t been in a good place for a long, long time. Don’t you remember all the fighting?”
Renee stared at her mother. “No.”
“Well, maybe you wouldn’t. We tried to hide it from you, because you were a kid. Your father and I tried everything to make it work—two years of couples therapy!—and we just couldn’t. I wasn’t surprised that he left.”
“You cut him out of all those pictures.”
Deborah looked like Renee had pressed an old bruise. “Yes. I did, and maybe I shouldn’t have. We’d been together for twenty years and I needed to be able to see my life without him.”
Renee’s eyes stung all over again. All this time, she’d believed there was some core part of her that was built to walk away. But if what her mom was saying was true, her father had made an effort that she’d never allowed herself.
She’d been doing to others the thing that had hurt her most.
“Leaving so abruptly was his decision. He insisted it would be easier on you that way. I knew better, but we weren’t agreeing on anything back then.
I know he hurt you, and I’m so sorry.” Deborah leaned in and brushed a tear from Renee’s cheek.
“I can’t even count how many times I’ve told him that he should reach out to you. ”
Renee’s head jerked up. “You talk to him?”
“Only about you. You’re his daughter, after all. I’m not going to excuse this whatsoever, because I don’t agree with it, but he says he doesn’t think you want to hear from him.”
“I do,” Renee said immediately. She’d spent years being angry with him, forcing herself not to care about a man who didn’t care about her.
Now, all at once, the need for him broke painfully to the surface, all the aching hurt of his absence.
The anger was still there, but it was so clear now that it came from sadness.
Renee buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. Deborah’s arms were warm and heavy around her as she cried.
“I still think he’s a dick,” Renee choked out.
“That’s fair,” Deborah said as she rubbed Renee’s back in soothing circles. “I’ll tell him that you’d like it if he called.”
R ENEE ASKED K ADIJAH to drinks right before Christmas.
“I want to apologize to you,” she said.
Over their teal eye shadow, Kadijah’s eyebrows arched deeply. “Do you now?”
“I know you’re mad at me for ignoring you when I was in L.A. I wasn’t trying to do that. Things got really complicated, and I was so busy filming, and there were the NDAs and Lola’s privacy—”
Kadijah stopped Renee with a hand. “I was told this would be an apology. All I’m hearing is rationalization.”
The impulse to argue woke like a beast in Renee’s brain, but she forced herself to ignore it. “You’re right. Can I start again?”
Kadijah, still dubious, nodded.
“I was ignoring you. It wasn’t an accident. Things were complicated and hectic, and that stuff about the NDAs and privacy is true, but those are excuses. A lot was happening that I didn’t know how to talk about. But instead of trying, I avoided it. That was wrong.”
Kadijah fiddled with the garnish of their cocktail. “And stupid too, because I give really good advice.”