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Chapter Thirty-Five
Gina
Everything is going great until it isn’t. First, my father shows up hauling a trailer full of boxes.
“Surprise!” he says.
He’s moving in. He didn’t exactly put it in those terms, but that’s the gist of it. He’s finally letting the tax man take the farm, and he needs a place to live. Of course, he’d never utter those words in a million years. My father doesn’t like to lose.
“The men in the overcoats came back,” he told me. “I didn’t like the look of them.”
I see his mouth moving, but it’s pride I hear talking. “What’d they say?”
“Nothing of importance,” he said, waving me off. “You know, probably just nosing around, trying to stir up trouble. But it made for a good reason to get out of town.”
Mona arrives with him, which is probably the bigger surprise. “There’s nothing there for me in Franklin anymore,” she said. “My husband is dead. I have no children. So here I am, ready to be of service.”
I’m guessing she just really needs a job. Not that I can blame her. I need one too. I’m dying of boredom out here in the sticks. Joel only has his truck, which he needs to get to work, so I’m stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, just me and a couple of cows.
The best part of Daddy and Mona showing up is they brought Annie and Blue. I’m so happy to see her that when she nuzzles her wet snout into my neck, tears prick my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I could miss a dog, and maybe, as inconvenient as it is, I’m also a little happy to have Daddy and Mona here. It feels like a little piece of home has found me in Pine Lake. Maybe I also hadn’t realized how lonely I really was.
Blissfully happy as a newlywed, sure. But still anxious and sad about all the changes. There is a duality to life. That’s what I learn in the first month of married life. It’s possible to feel everything all at once.
One night Joel and I are sitting on the porch late, watching the cows graze up on the hill. Blue is in Joel’s lap, though she hardly fits anymore. Sometimes I think he loves that dog more than me, which is fine because Annie is at my feet. The stars are on full display, the sky unusually clear. It’s not very cold out, and it feels like we’re inside a warm blanket, cocooned from the midwinter chill. I’ve been thinking about my life back in Franklin, and my life here. About how different they are, how they completely contrast each other. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make them into the same thing. “I’m thinking of taking a trip out to California,” I say. “What do you think?”
“California?” he says with a furrowed brow. “What for?”
“I want to audition for a few roles,” I reply with a shrug. “See what pans out.”
“You mean in Hollywood?”
“Yep,” I nod, a bit too enthusiastically. I guess I'm a little afraid of what he is going to think. Joel is a very down-to-earth guy. He doesn’t seem like the type to take big risks, maybe not even small ones. “Hollywood. I've always wanted to be an actress.”
“Mmm.”
“What does that mean?” I ask him, poking him playfully with my elbow. I used to think I could read a person's mind by looking at their body language. I guess that’s fairly naive, though. I try to tune in, I try to make a vision or guidance or my intuition come and tell me what to say or do, but nothing happens. I can't quite figure Joel out. One minute he's loving and attentive and the next he's quiet and distant. Right now, it feels like he's a million miles away.
“My life is here, Gina. I thought yours was, too.”
He sounds disappointed, his voice is laced with melancholy. “Plus, your father and that woman are here now. I thought that would make you happy.”
The melancholy has been replaced with bitterness. I get the sense that I’ve just destroyed something pure between us, that I’ve cut a cord, like a little bit of purity and trust has been burned away. And that’s when I see it, the image in my mind. Joel and a woman are standing outside a building. It looks like a motel. He’s not smiling, but she is.
“I thought you could come with me,” I tell him, brushing the thought away. “It will be like a honeymoon, of sorts. Arealhoneymoon.”
“Nothing in Hollywood is real, Gina.”
The next day,I use Daddy’s car to go into town. I need to do a grocery run, but first I plan to stop by the library to see if I can find some books on acting, or agents, or both. I walk into the dusty old building and find a woman behind the counter. She looks a thousand years old. Her skin is wrinkled and peeling, like old parchment, but her eyes are sharp and piercing.
She’s sort of hunched over, resting her face in her palm in a way that makes me wonder whether she’s sleeping or she’s dead. I’m almost afraid to approach her.
“Excuse me,” I say softly.
Her head pops up like a jack-in-the-box. Like these are the first words she's heard in sixty years. Her expression suggests that she's not too thrilled to see me. Her eyes lock onto mine, and I can see the contempt in them. “How can I help you?”
“I'm looking for a book—or several books—on acting. I'm trying to find out what I need to do to get started.”
I can feel the anger radiating from her, like a furnace. She can't believe I am standing here, that I am asking for help. I feel the heat of her gaze on me, like a physical force.What could possibly make a person so angry?
