CHAPTER 29
“Where are we going at three in the morning? We could just stay in bed and sleep. Or not sleep. I could use a little more of not sleeping.”
“How is that possible?” Dana asked as she pulled her car out of the lot.
“What? That I want more sex with you? Give me a break. I just started having sex with women. It’s really, really good, and I want more.”
“Women or woman?” Dana asked.
“Woman, smart-ass,” she said and reached over to take Dana’s hand. “We’re in the car. We can hold hands in here.”
“You don’t have your wig on, so we should be careful about where we go,” Dana noted, entwining their fingers.
“As long as it’s not a crowded bar, I should be okay,” she replied. “It’s not a huge deal. Most people are cool. They just want pictures and stuff. But when you’re on a first date with a girl you like, you don’t really want to have to stop and take pictures with strangers.”
“Well, not everything is the French Quarter or Jackson Square around here. If you want, we can just walk around. Canal Street will be busy, but not nearly as busy as the Quarter, and it’s not that bad this time of year.
There aren’t any big events in town right now that I know of, so we can meander and talk. ”
“You’d rather meander and talk than take me to bed?” she teased, placing Dana’s hand high up on her inner thigh.
Dana laughed and replied, “It’s a first date, Samara. I’m trying to behave.”
Samara smiled at her and moved her hand to the back of Dana’s neck.
“I really do like this haircut on you. I liked it when it was long, too, but this just seems more you, and I like it when you are you.”
“I like it when you’re you, you know?” Dana said.
“Even though I’m high-maintenance?”
“I don’t know. I guess it kind of works for me. Hey, I have a weird idea.”
“Um… Weird idea?”
“You know how Maisie owns a bookstore?”
“I remember that, yeah,” Samara replied.
“Well, I have the key and the alarm code. Want to go?”
“To a bookstore at three in the morning?”
“It will be three-thirty by the time we get there. It could be fun. We can walk around from there, too. There’s usually a taco truck down the street that’s open late.”
“Tacos again?” Samara asked.
“I can’t help what they serve, or that it’s the only place that’s open right now over there, but we can skip it. I doubt they have vegan stuff. Maybe just a tortilla and some beans.”
“I’ve eaten that before,” she said. “It’s not bad. Lacking flavor, but most salsas are vegan, so I can always add that. Do they have avocado?”
“I have no idea.” Dana laughed.
“What will we do in a bookstore in the middle of the night?”
“Look at books. Talk about books we like, ones we hate, just hang out in a place where no one will recognize you.”
“Won’t Maisie be mad?” she asked.
“I doubt it. Lainey used to work there, and I’ve covered for her a few times. That’s why I have the key and code. We’re not going to tear the place up. We can’t, anyway. It’s a historic landmark.”
“It is?” Samara asked.
◆◆◆
“It was built before the Louisiana Purchase,” Dana said as she ushered Samara through the back door and turned off the alarm. “It’s been in Maisie’s family ever since, and it’s the oldest continuously operated independent bookstore in the country.”
“Have you practiced that speech before?” she teased, taking Dana’s hand.
“Yes. I said it to customers when I covered for Lainey.”
“So, where are all the good books?”
“Everywhere. What are you into?”
“Well, you,” Samara replied and pulled Dana into her by the hips.
“There aren’t any books about me in here,” Dana joked.
Samara wrapped her arms around Dana’s neck then and asked, “Any security cameras?”
“Yes. So, keep your hands to yourself,” Dana told her before kissing her.
“Bummer. I was kind of hoping you and I could make out in the aisles.”
“Oh, we can still do that. Just no getting naked,” Dana said with a wink. “I don’t want Maisie to roll back the tape and see us rolling around on the floor.”
“As if I’d have sex on this floor,” she stated.
Dana laughed and moved out of her grasp but kept Samara’s hand in her own.
“So, what are you in the mood for? History? Fiction? New Orleans? Biographies?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Really, nothing. I just want to be with you. I don’t care where we are.”
“Okay. Well, can I recommend something?”
“I guess.”
“Hold on a second,” Dana replied and disappeared into an office or something because Samara was left standing in the middle of one of the aisles of a bookstore at three-thirty in the morning.
“Are you robbing the place but leaving me here to take the fall?” she joked.
“No, I’m doing this.”
Above her head, Samara noticed there were lights now that danced along the ceiling before they settled and looked like tiny stars.
“Maisie has been hosting these lock-ins for kids once a month.” Dana explained when she reemerged and looked up with her.
“They show up with sleeping bags and flashlights and get to read books for a few hours before their parents pick them up. She installed these about six months ago. I thought they were pretty cool. I know you won’t have sex on the floor, but any chance we can just lie down on it?
I don’t have any sleeping bags with me, unfortunately. ”
When Samara looked at her, Dana had some stars on her face.
She touched one of them softly and nodded.
Dana smiled at her and moved to sit down right in the middle of the aisle.
Samara joined her, and soon, Dana was lying down, with Samara snuggled against her side, resting her head on Dana’s chest.
“So, what was your mom like?” Dana asked.
“Wow. First date, and we’re already going there, huh?”
“We don’t have to.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said and ran her hand under Dana’s shirt, needing to feel her skin before diving into this conversation. “She wasn’t perfect, but she was my mom, you know? I told you that she wasn’t a stage mom, and that’s true, but there were times where it felt like that to me a little bit.”
“Like when?”
“When I was fourteen and wanted to take a break, but I got an offer that she wanted me to take. I argued with her, but she told me that it would get me to the next movie and the next one after that. I gave in.”
“You didn’t want to do it?”
“No, but she was right. It was my first role that wasn’t really a kiddy thing, outside of the show, so it was important, and it was only six weeks of work.
After that, I got to take a full month off, and we went on a fun family vacation to the beach, where she just let me be a teenager.
I kissed my first boy on that vacation.”
“Oh, you did? Should I be jealous?” Dana asked, wrapping an arm tightly around her.
“No,” she replied, chuckling a little as she looked up at their fake night sky. “He tried to use tongue. I shoved him.”
Dana laughed then and said, “Ah. So you were always a pain in the ass?”
“Yes, pretty much. But it was a great vacation. I miss her.”
“What happened to the guy who hit her?”
“He went on trial earlier this year. He’s been held without bail since it happened because he drove on a suspended license. He had three DUIs before that, so they had it taken away. That asshole decided to get into a car after a night out drinking, and he killed my mom.”
“You and your sister were okay?” Dana asked, kissing her forehead.
“I got away with two broken fingers and a few scratches. My sister broke her collarbone and had a nasty cut on her leg, but my mom took the biggest part of the hit, and she didn’t make it.”
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Oh, God.” Samara laughed. “She would’ve loved you.”
“She would have?”
“Yes. You don’t take my crap. She didn’t, either.”
“I guess I don’t, no. Never did, did I? From the moment you complained about the food temperature.” Dana paused. “But I didn’t know about–”
“Hey, it’s okay.” She patted Dana’s stomach. “I get it. To most people, I’m just a pain in the ass.”
“But only because they don’t know.”
“Do I have to tell them?”
“No, that’s up to you. Sometimes, though, even a small explanation helps people understand without thinking you’re being an asshole.
Like, you could tell them that you’re allergic to certain foods instead of revealing the OCD, or you could say that you’re really sensitive to temperature without talking about autism. ”
“I just don’t feel like I owe it to anyone to tell them.”
“You don’t owe anyone, but, babe, if you’re looking for a way to lose that diva rep you’ve built for years, it could help.”
“Diva? Really?”
“What? It’s kind of true. You even ordered a specific trailer.”
“I like my trailer.” She chuckled a little and added, “It’s a nice trailer. And I took way less than I usually make to do this movie. All I asked for was my food and a trailer that I knew I would be comfortable in.”
“I know,” Dana replied, kissing her temple.
“Why does that feel so good?”
“Me kissing you?”
“Specifically, that spot.”
“I don’t know,” Dana said and did it again. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m doing it because I care about you and want to keep you safe.”
“Even though I’m a diva?”
“You’re not with me; not anymore, anyway,” Dana replied. “I like that you’re being more yourself with me now.”
“I am,” she said. “Are you being more yourself with me?”
“I’m always myself.”
Samara shifted to be able to look at her and asked, “Then, why are you talking about going back to catering when you clearly want to be an actor and always have?”
“This again?” Dana asked.
“Yes, this again,” she said. “Dana, I don’t know what’s going to happen when I leave, but if this is going to continue, I live in LA, and you live here.
One of us actually wants to be an actress and move to LA to make it happen.
” She pointed to Dana. “The other already lives there and is a working actress.”
“We could do the distance thing,” Dana suggested.
“What are you so afraid of?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Dana, seriously, why won’t you at least consider–”
“My mom got sick, Samara.”
“I know that.”
“No, she got sick, and I nearly lost her. I was planning on moving to LA when it happened. I turned down NYU because I didn’t want to live in New York, but I was packing my bags for LA, so to speak.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“Well, you don’t know everything about me, but, yeah, that was my plan. I was going to stay with a friend who lived there. She doesn’t anymore.”
“Just a friend?”
“Yes, just a friend,” Dana said, cupping Samara’s cheek.
“She had a couch with my name on it, but then my mom got sick. One day, she was fine, and the next, she was in the hospital, and they said we almost lost her. I was still here, so I ran there, but if I’d been in LA, I would’ve been a flight away, and if she hadn’t made it, I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye. ”
“But she did make it,” Samara replied. “And you told me she’s fine now.”
“She is, but she has regular check-ups still. She goes in at least twice a year; sometimes, more.”
“You’re worried that if it happens again, you won’t be here?”
Dana shrugged and sat up.
“Babe, when was the last time you left New Orleans?”
“It’s been a while.”
“And what happens if your parents decide to move, like you said? Are you going to move with them?”
“No, of course not.”
“You say that like it’s ridiculous, but you’re here now because you’re worried she’ll get–”
“I love it here. My sister is here. She’s getting married, and–”
“And they haven’t even set a date yet,” she said and sat next to Dana, placing her head on Dana’s shoulder. “You can always come back to help them plan and for the ceremony.”
“I know,” Dana replied, sounding sad. “But what if I finally do it, and it doesn’t work out? What if I finally go there, and it’s all for nothing? What if I’m not good enough? Talented enough? Waited too long, so now I’m no longer young enough?”
“So, you want to just sit here and wonder what if for the rest of your life?”
“Easy for you to say there, A-lister,” Dana teased.
“I’m being selfish, I know.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I want you to have what you’ve always wanted.”
“Well, I have always wanted a taco from the truck down the street.”
Samara laughed and asked, “Really? It’s, like, four in the morning.”
“And we were supposed to be out meandering.”
Dana stood and offered Samara her hand.
“Can we maybe grab you those tacos and head back to my hotel or your place? I’m getting tired.”
“You want to go to my place?”
“I haven’t seen it yet,” Samara replied. “I think if we’re talking about more dates and the possibility of distance here, I should at least know if you’re sloppy and messy.”
“I am neither sloppy nor messy. I’m sort of a neat freak, actually. Mild, but I like my stuff orderly.”
“Do you make your bed every morning?”
“No, I’m just going to sleep in it again tonight.”
“Then, you’re not a neat freak.”
“Oh, no. You’re one of those?” Dana asked, entwining their fingers. “You really make your bed every morning?”
“I usually do, yeah. Not hospital corners, but I have a housekeeper, and she does that for me three times a week.”
“Someone cleans your house three times a week?” Dana asked as they walked out the back.
“Yes. When I’m working, I’m not home a lot, and the place would get dusty, so she keeps it clean for me.”
“Damn. I’d love a housekeeper at my place.”
“Well, if it’s not up to my standards, maybe I’ll hire one to clean it for you while I’m here.”
“Not up to your standards?” Dana laughed before setting the alarm and locking the door once they were outside. “Really? What are your standards, exactly?” she asked as she turned and quickly had Samara pressed to the red brick wall.
“Um… This was my exact fantasy,” she shared, wrapping her arms around Dana’s neck. “Can you wait on that food truck?”
“There are security cameras out here, too,” Dana noted and pointed up at one.
“Damn,” Samara replied, disappointed.