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“Good for you, dear.” Jennifer snuffed the cigarette into the mug and patted the empty chair next to her. “Then come for a chat with a lonely old lady. Just a few minutes, huh?”
Gia couldn’t argue with that request.
“So, tell me. If you’re coming from dinner with a friend, why do you look like you just lost your dog?”
“Hm?”
“Dear, your words say one thing, but your face is longer than winter in Antarctica. You okay?”
The air was still that time of night. While everyone else slept, quiet enveloped them and Gia thought about the best way to reply. Mrs. Edelman had been nothing but kind to her, and she could use an ear.
“Oh, right.” How she’d love that cigarette right then. “Yeah, my friend—Roxi—is—it’s complicated. I—”
“You’re in love with her?” Mrs. Edelman—Jennifer—nailed it. She took Gia’s hand in hers, bright red nails a stark contrast to her crepe-like skin and squeezed.
“How did you know?” Gia’s head dropped. She’d held it up all evening—when Roxi sang to her, when she told her she was going on a reality show, when they’d hugged goodbye and Gia’d thanked her for dinner. It was time to let go. The weight of the truth was too much to hold.
“Live as many years as I have, dear, and you know when someone is heartbroken. Want to talk about it?”
“Do you care that she’s a woman?”
“What an ignorant question, child! Of course I don’t care. I wouldn’tve asked if I did! I’ve lived in Palm Springs for 53 of my years on the planet. I’m not telling you how many years that’s been. But it’s a lot. You think gay is new to me?”
“Sorry.” Gia noticed the lingering woodiness of tobacco on Jennifer’s breath and told herself it wasn’t the answer. Again. “Okay. So, when I moved here, I promised myself I’d get clean. No more booze, smokes, or—”
“Yes?”
The heat on the back of her neck gave Gia pause. Would she say the last part to her nonna? She would not. But this wasn’t her nonna. To hell with it. “—sleeping around. No relationships, either. For a year. Just clean living.”
“And then you met someone?” Jennifer nodded. “Forbidden fruit?”
“Roxi. We met in group therapy, and it’s platonic. Nothing’s happened.”
“But you want it to?”
“Yeah.” Gia sighed and ran her hands through her hair, which had dried wavier than normal. How much had she touched it at Roxi’s? Apparently, plenty. It was getting longer. She could almost pull it into a ponytail, and had taken to trying several times a day, sometimes without realizing. Just to see. “I think she does, too. But that’s not the problem. I mean, there’s definitely an attraction. We kissed—once. And it wasn’t just a kiss, you know? It was electric. But it can’t be, and she’s about to do something that could change everything.”
“I see.” Jennifer reached for her cigarette clutch on the matching plastic side table—maroon leather with a silver clasp; no plain box for her—and put it down. A habit neglected for the sake of someone else. “When I was a younger woman, I took a job at a studio. I won’t say which one. But I was an assistant to a famous director.” Jennifer leaned to her side and put her hand beside her mouth, as if she were telling a secret. “I won’t say which one of those either. Ha! Anyway, I was working at the studio, day in, day out. Fetching things, getting coffee, looking pretty. Oh, did I look pretty.”
“Mm-hm.” Gia nodded. Where was this story going? And what did it have to do with her and Roxi?
“I made a friend named Emily. She was another director’s assistant, so we’d see each other at craft services, at the mimeograph machine, in the ladies’—we girls were few and far between, so we had to stick together. And one day, I was picking up a stack of scripts I’d copied, and Emily was waiting her turn to do the same. Polite as could be, that girl. And fit as a fiddle. She wore these short little plaid skirts—like a parochial schoolgirl. And that day, her pinky finger grazed my hand when she took over the machine.”
Wait, what? Gia listened intently. This was not where she thought this story was going. “What happened?”
“I don’t have to tell you what happens when there’s a spark between two people, dear. The spark was just the start of a wildfire that burned all summer. But times were different, even in Hollywood. These things weren’t done. Well, theyweredone,” Jennifer smiled the smile of remembrance. Her teeth were light yellow from decades of smoking, but Gia saw it. She saw that Mrs. Edelmanwasa pretty woman. “They were done, but they couldn’t last. So, at the end of the summer, Emily and I had one last tryst—a rollercoaster of a weekend where we stayed just drunk enough not to care about being found out and made each other promises we were never going to keep. We knew what had to happen.”
“What?” Gia asked, now perched on the edge of her chair. “What had to happen?”
“We went our separate ways, dear. We had no future. Not in those times. I met Gene a few weeks later and was Mrs. Edelman before the year was up. I don’t know what became of Emily. But not a day has gone by since the last time we kissed that I haven’t thought about her and what might have been. I can still smell her perfume; I can still feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. To this day, I consider her the love of my life.”
“Wow.” Gia exhaled. “What a sad story. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry. I’ve lived a fine life. Better than fine. I’ve travelled the world and seen it change. Gene died three years after we met—cancer—and left me enough money to be comfortable. I haven’t had to work since. Not that this is Shangri-la, but I’m happy here. I’ve had other love in my life. And I’ve lost it, too. But standard love—the kind most people settle for—it’s not quite the same as having the wildfire, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” Gia agreed. It really wasn’t. Why was she doing this to herself? Why was she fighting it? For principle? Because of a rule? So, she’d been promiscuous. So, she had a past. Was the rule keeping her from the person who could be her future? Was she setting up to be Mrs. Edelman?
“You didn’t ask my advice, so I’m not giving you any,” Jennifer continued, eyes closing as she thought. “I just wanted to tell that story to someone who would understand.”
