Chapter 20
The next day I’m in my apartment still stinging over my exchange with Finn. I hate the way he puts documentaries over other forms of film. He completely dismisses the entire Golden Age of Hollywood. It’s infuriating. Growing up, those films inspired me and gave me comfort. He categorically believes that we need to focus on ‘real’ stories. Well, those stories were real to me. I lived with them in my head most of my life. My phone rings and I hope it’s Finn just so I can tell him how wrong he is.
‘Hey Sammy,’ Paul coos into the phone.
‘Paul, ugh. I am so angry.’
‘Aw, babe. What’s wrong?’ I explain the whole thing, how Finn and I have to pick a film to show and how Finn is so pig-headed about his genre and how important classic films are to me. ‘Can you believe him?’ I ask when I finish my diatribe.
Silence on the other end of the phone.
‘Hello, did you hear all that?’ I ask, assuming he’s driving through an area without a signal.
‘Yeah, Sammy. You guys like different movies,’ he says matter-of-factly. I guess he’s right. It’s not a huge deal, but it feels like a huge deal. Paul has a way of putting things in perspective, I guess. He’s so chill. Nothing bothers him and I like that. I can get overly emotional when I’m feeling vulnerable and I hate that feeling. It reminds me of when I was a kid in school, and I’d cry so easily, making me an instant target for teasing.
‘How are things there?’ I ask. He tells me about a contract that he had to revise with a client and how they kept asking for the smallest changes but he didn’t care because each change meant more billable hours.
I’m not very interested in his job but it’s clear he does it well so I listen and ask questions. I want to find out how the divorce is going but I’m not sure it’s a topic I should approach. He showed me the retainer and I don’t want him to think I doubt him. Paul says he has to head to a client and then tells me how much he misses me and how he can’t wait to come back and be with me and that makes me feel better. I tell him I can’t wait either.
Usually when I hang up with Paul I feel this longing but today I can’t shake my feelings of frustration over Finn. I see my laptop on the table. For a second I think about running over to it and pounding out a scene just to prove my point about how fictional stories with time-honored tropes can have as much emotional depth as anything ‘real’. Why not? Maybe I still have it in me. I open my laptop and think about how to begin, but then I see the submission folder that got rejected on my desktop, and it stops me in my tracks. What makes me think I can write anything better than the stuff I already submitted? My self-doubt takes over and I leave my laptop on the table in my apartment and decide to walk to the next date my mother has scheduled for me. At least her setups are a distraction from facing a blank screen.
I get so used to living in the grid of midtown Manhattan that coming down to the West Village is like visiting another country. The buildings are shorter, with windowed storefronts and instead of numbers the streets here have actual names – Jane, Perry, and even Gay. I enter the Cuddle Cup Cafe past a festive scarecrow wearing an I Heart NY T-shirt and an arrangement of red, green, and yellow apples that look more ornamental than edible. I’m grateful to be forty blocks away from my neighborhood to minimize the risk of running into anyone from Plant Daddy or, worse, Finn.
It’s easy to spot my date, Nathaniel Lee Abernathy IV. He texted me at least a dozen headshots of himself. Not candids. Actual studio lighting and backdrops, each with a different expression, from joyful to serious. Sometimes with props. He’s handsome in a shiny, overly polished way with a well-toned body and perfectly coiffed chestnut brown hair that could be in a shampoo commercial.
‘Hello, I’m Sam,’ I say as I walk over to the table where he’s seated.
‘Look at you, pretty as a peach blossom in June. You’re even more handsome than the photo your mama sent me,’ he says. At first, I think his Southern accent is a joke. It’s as thick as tar. Nothing like Finn, who just has the slightest drawl around the edges of his deep bass. My mom told me today’s match was born and raised in Alabama and has a new client in New York. She met him when he made the colossal mistake of asking her for directions. You ask my mom for directions, and you’ve made a friend for life. She keeps in touch with a woman she met decades ago at a rest stop on the Garden State Parkway who couldn’t find Atlantic City. My mother said this guy has ‘pizazz’. I told her I’m not sure what pizazz is and again reminded her what a disaster all her setups have been so far.
‘Sit yourself down Mister Sam and tell me all about what makes you tick.’ He stands up and pulls out the chair for me.
‘Thanks.’ He’s very polite. ‘Can I get you something?’ I ask but then I look down and see he already has a mug in front of him.
‘No, thank you, but let me get you something. I got here earlier to finish up some work before our—’ His phone buzzes. ‘Excuse me. A work emergency and then I will put this thing away.’ At least this guy has no plans to livestream the entire date. ‘I’m so sorry. This is so rude. Not a way to make a good first impression.’ He puts his finger up to indicate this will only take a second.
‘No problem,’ I say. I totally understand. I’ve spent many a dinner studying the wine menu while I waited for Paul to get off an important call with high-end clients who simply couldn’t wait. Once, he even took a call from a senator, which impressed me.
Nathaniel answers his phone and says, ‘Tiffany Renee Sunshine O’Leary-Chang y’all are on my last nerve. I told y’all. You are not wearing the tulip blue taffeta until the Little Miss Crab Cakes Pageant this spring. I want you in Sunset Orange and Sunflower Yella. What part of Little Miss Candy Corn do you not understand?’ He pulls the phone away from his mouth to speak to me. ‘My apologies. She’s only eight, but she is the most stubborn eight-year-old in the world and not the brightest.’ He goes back to his phone. ‘Now, Miss O’Leary-Chang, your Uncle Nate is at an important personal engagement. I want you to put on the Candy Corn dress and video chat me the second you have it on. I have not approved your hair just yet young lady.’
He hangs up. ‘Apologies. I’m up here working Miss Stacey Lynn Cavatelli for the big Little Miss Outer Boroughs Pageant. Her parents are big spenders, so it means I need to work remotely with some of my Southern gals.’
‘My mom said you were a coach,’ I say. At first, I thought it was some kind of sport, but now I think I may have made a wrong assumption.
‘I am the East Coast’s foremost Pageant Coach, specializing in toddlers up to pre-teens. Once they hit thirteen, I’m done. Teenagers are too hard.’
‘I see,’ I say. When Tiffany calls back I offer to get him a refill and he declines. I head up to the counter so he can sort out the dress situation, and so I can figure out how long I have to stay on this date to qualify as a date in the eyes of my mother. I order something on ice. That way, I can gulp it down and be finished sooner than I would with something steamed. I take my iced passion fruit tea back to the table, and apparently Tiffany is wearing the correct dress.
‘Gorgeous, Honeybee. You look absolutely gorgeous. Don’t you agree, Miss Mommy?’ Out of the corner of my eye I see an adult woman pop her face into the video chat and nod enthusiastically. ‘Let me ask my new boyfriend what he thinks?’ Nathaniel smiles at me revealing teeth that are a few shades too white for any human. I’m assuming he called me his boyfriend ironically or facetiously, or maybe metaphorically. He can’t have done it seriously. We met five minutes ago. He shows me the screen of his phone which is thirty per cent pouffy dress, sixty per cent big hair and ten per cent little girl. ‘Doesn’t she look like Calhoun County’s next Little Miss Candy Corn?’ he asks.
I nod and grab my drink, seeing how much I can chug without my bladder bursting. He smiles at me, and I think he reaches for my hand, which I quickly pull away. He takes his chair and moves it right next to me, so our legs are almost touching.
‘Now look you two, I need to give this handsome man my full attention. I will call you back. Goodbye, now. See y’all.’ He puts his phone down and turns to me. ‘Your mama said you were a successful writer. I always thought it would be wonderful to be married to a writer ever since I came out. Something about all that creative energy.’
‘When did you come out?’ I ask. It’s not an uncommon question in these types of situations.
‘Just three weeks ago. It was a shock to everyone.’
I almost spit out my iced tea. ‘I’m sure it was.’ Are the people in Calhoun County headless?
‘But I’m not good at being single. I broke off with my fiancé just before my birthday. Amy Sue was devastated. We had been engaged for fifteen years. I thought while I’m up here I would find myself a Yankee boy and bring him back home.’
‘Oh, did you?’ My eyes stay on the clock on the wall behind him.
‘The country club does gay weddings, you know. They won’t allow them in the main ballroom, but they will let you use the carriage house during the week, which is quite darling.’ He reaches for my hand again and I yank it away.
‘I’m not really looking to get married,’ I say. ‘At least not right away.’
He moves his chair a few inches away from me. ‘Then what are you doing here on this date?’ He is highly offended. Maybe he should be. It’s a fair question. What am I doing on this date with this guy I have no intention of dating? On the other hand, it’s just coffee. Does it mean I have to be ready to pick out china patterns and debate the benefits of a chocolate fountain at the reception?
‘I just thought we could talk and…’ How am I supposed to respond? I watch the minute hand tick.
‘Just talk? Good sir, where I am from, you do not enter your horse in the race if you don’t expect him to win.’
‘Do you have a horse?’ I ask. I am just trying to make small talk. ‘That’s nice, I’ve always liked horses.’ I have no idea what to say.
Nathaniel stands up, brushes some imaginary dust off his chest and shoulders as if I have infected him with Northern stupidity. ‘Good day, Sam. I’m sorry to have to say this is not a relationship I can continue to pursue. Please give my best to your sweet mama and let her know I asked after her.’ He nods to me and walks out.
I will definitely let her know about this, no question about it.