Merritt picked up an antique door (with original hardware…an attractive add-on she would have cared about six weeks ago). She slammed it on a sawhorse she had set up at the side of the loading bay. She hoped the door would shatter into a thousand splinters. But it was hardwood, and as it hit the sawhorse, it sent a painful jolt through her shoulders. Everything was painful. She thought Avery had healed something inside her, but she’d been wrong. Merritt was like so many antiques; it was the rust and old paint that held her together. Avery had stripped those away. Now hurt and disappointment that would have stung before knocked her down. She couldn’t close her eyes without reliving Avery and Alistair’s kiss, and she couldn’t shake the knowledge that whatever Avery said—even if Avery begged her to stay—they were over.
She hadn’t even stumbled across Avery and Alistair’s wedding announcement. It had jumped out at her. The day after the Mirage, she had tried to distract herself with e-mail and invoices. The interns had installed an off-brand browser on the Hellenic Hardware computer, and a banner blared news at the user. EARTHQUAKE. FIRE. THIS THING IN YOUR REFRIGERATOR COULD KILL YOU. AVERY CROWN AND ALISTAIR KING TO TIE THE KNOT.
It hadn’t even been thirty-six hours! In one photograph, Avery held Alistair’s hand as he spun her around on a parqueted dance floor. WE’VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER, the headline read. Beneath a picture of Alistair and Avery beaming, a side box read, YOU WON’T WANT TO MISS THE NEXT KING & CROWN FINALE.
Now her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She didn’t need to look at the screen to know who was calling. Twenty missed calls from Avery. It wasn’t that Merritt didn’t want to talk to her. She wanted to throw herself in Avery’s arms and spill out all her fears and sorrows. But the only conversation they could really have now was, Look, you know as well as I do, this won’t work. She was afraid she couldn’t have that talk without yelling at Avery like she had in Avery’s trailer or simply falling to the ground to cry.
Merritt picked up a planer and drew it along the surface of the door, peeling back a strip of ornate wood carvings.
“Merritt!” Alex, her intern, exclaimed from behind her.
Merritt stared down at the wood in front of her. Her planer had filed down the carved fruits and goddesses that swirled across the door’s surface. She set the planer down at the very edge of the door and gauged another yard of wood.
“That’s bloodwood!” Alex said. “That’s high-relief nouveau-Balinese. What are you doing?”
Bloodwood. High-relief. She’d worked hard to teach him the vocabulary, to teach him that it mattered. It was hard to convince a boy who had lived behind a dumpster and now dreamed of being a YouTube makeup blogger that the Janka hardness rating meant something. She wished she cared. Instead, she handed him the planer.
“I couldn’t,” he whispered.
“Go ahead. Fuck it up.”
Alex looked as if Merritt had held the planer to her own throat. “I’m going to get Iliana,” he said.
“She’s on her honeymoon. It’s just a door. Finish it off. Scrape it. Paint it. You can’t save it now.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re young and sweet. You haven’t ruined anything yet. Do it now. Get your first out of the way.”
Her phone rang again. It was inevitable; she would have to talk to Avery, and she’d have to be the one to say it, to break it off. Avery wouldn’t have the decency to do what had to be done. Merritt pulled the phone out of her pocket and accepted the blocked number.
“I’m not ready, Avery!” she blurted.
“Avery is here!” Venner’s voice boomed unexpectedly. “Avery is ready. Alistair is ready. We have a film crew costing me hundreds a minutes, and you are not here.”
“We’re done. The show is over. I’m out of your life and your lights and your fake world.”
“You are not,” Venner said. “Our people have been calling you. We stayed in Portland for another three days. We need to film the proposal scene, and we need you there. It’s in your contract, Lessing. Look it up, and get over here.”
Merritt called her attorney, Kristen Brock, Portland’s premiere civil rights lawyer and the wife of a customer who owed her a favor.
“You have to go,” Kristen said after a brief pause. “They own you.”
* * *
An hour later Merritt was once again standing at the archway that led into the Elysium courtyard. How many times had she stood there? She was days away from signing for the deed, and yet she felt like this was the end. If there had been something magic about these walls, that magic had dissipated.
Before she could enter the fray of cameras and cables, Avery rushed over, ignoring Venner’s, “Get back here.”
“I can explain,” Avery said, clutching Merritt’s hand and breaking Avery’s own prohibition against touching on set.
Merritt pulled away. She could see Avery standing on Burnside looking up at Merritt’s window the first night they’d made love. She saw her own keys suspended in the streetlight a second before Avery caught them. At that moment, her whole soul had cried out, Stay.
“You don’t need to explain,” Merritt said. “I know.”
“I tried to tell you about the marriage, but you wouldn’t answer, and now we’re shooting the engagement, but it’s just for show. You have to know Alistair and I aren’t like that, and you’re the one I want, and this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen, and I’ve messed it up again.”
There were no pauses between Avery’s words. Her expressive face was full of earnest concern, as though her biggest fear in the whole world was hurting Merritt. As though a really good explanation of why she had shown up at the Mirage, danced with Merritt, pushed Merritt away, kissed Alistair King, fled, and then got engaged could fix the situation.
“I need you in here,” Venner called out.
She was glad for an excuse to walk away. She couldn’t cry in front of Iliana; she certainly couldn’t cry in front of the entire King & Crown crew.
As soon as they were all gathered in the courtyard, Venner launched into a lecture about his days on Cop Brides.
“We knew the biggest threats those officers faced wasn’t on the streets of New York. It was the wedding,” he said.
The King & Crown crew looked grim. The Portland crew had stopped whistling and hanging around the catering truck. Like guests at a stranger’s funeral, they were being polite. They would move on to another Portland gig as soon as the season was over. The King & Crown crew—most of whom had been with the show since the beginning—were probably polishing their résumés in case a white wedding wasn’t enough to save Avery’s reputation. They eyed Merritt warily.
Merritt could not believe she was there. She watched Avery, her skin shimmering with pearlescent pink glitter, her hair pinned up with silk cherry blossoms, the most precious creature in the world, and Merritt felt a stab of sadness so acute she thought she would faint.
Alistair came up beside her as Venner talked. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You got what you wanted,” she shot back, not bothering to lower her voice.
“No I didn’t,” he said. “She’s my best friend. Look at her. You’re breaking her heart. Why didn’t you call her back?”
“I don’t know how you guys do this for a living,” Merritt said. “I can’t wait to get back to the hardware store.”
“Alistair, I want you over by the fountain,” Venner said before Alistair could answer. “Avery, behind me. Merritt, you’re helping Alistair install these flowers. You say, ‘How about we just call it a day.’ Then Alistair says…”
They took their places, and Merritt spoke her lines. After three more takes, Venner let the cameras turn toward Avery. She walked through the Elysium’s arched entryway, carrying—for no discernible reason—a wicker basket full of glitter confetti. She tossed a handful on Alistair’s head.
“Avery.” Alistair knelt and reached into the pocket of his blazer. “When I’m with you, everything sparkles.”
It was so corny…and it was exactly how Merritt had felt before Avery had told her she was marrying Alistair.
Venner called cut. “Goddamn it, Avery, look happier!” He clamped his hand on the back of Avery’s neck. She flicked it off with speed worthy of Iliana’s self-defense classes. “Alistair King just asked you to marry him! And, Merritt,” Venner added, “you’ve got to read joy and jealousy. This is the Holy Grail of wedding proposals. You’re excited but at the same time you’re so jealous you could die.”
That was true.
“Avery’s so lucky.” Venner affected a fake soprano. “And you’re the one who’s supposed to get the guy. How did this happen? Where did you go wrong? But the ring is so big! But you’re so jealous. But the ring is so big.”
He muscled Avery back toward the archway. Alistair knelt in the cascade of white flowers. Avery came in again.
“Make me the happiest man on earth.” Alistair held up the ring.
Avery covered her mouth. She looked like someone witnessing a car crash. She can’t do it in front of me, Merritt thought.
“Maybe it would work better without me,” she said.
“No. You’re the whole reason we’re here,” Venner said. “Every chubby housewife in Ohio is going to see Avery getting the guy and gorgeous Merritt Lessing out in the cold. That’s a fucking portrait of hope right there.”
Merritt wished she could escape. She was witnessing Avery Crown’s wedding engagement over and over again like Groundhog Day. It was high school prom all over again, except this time she was right in the fray, squealing with glee like some coked-up housewife.
“We are not leaving here until I get ecstasy on camera,” Venner said. “Go again.”
Merritt couldn’t watch Avery suffer anymore. She strode across the courtyard and put her arm around Avery’s shoulders. Avery looked up at her with hope in her eyes.
“I wanted to go to you,” Avery whispered. “But Alistair asked me to wait. He said Ponza would just follow us, and he’d harass you, and Al just wanted me to think.”
“You can’t talk about that here,” Merritt said, her lips turned toward Avery’s ear so that only Avery could hear her.
“I don’t care.”
She guided Avery as far away from Venner as she could, which wasn’t far since they were hemmed in by crew members and hydrangeas.
“Look at me,” Merritt whispered. “Let’s just get this next take right so we can get out of here.”
Avery looked down into her basket of glitter, her lips tightening like she was holding back tears. She hugged the basket to her chest. And Merritt felt a wave of sympathy so deep she felt her throat constrict. The old Merritt would have said something glib. The new Merritt only saw Avery’s tears fall, one by one, into her basket, and she knew that nothing in the world was worse than Avery being sad. Even if Avery was leaving. Even if nothing was possible.
They shot the scene again, and Venner said it was perfect, which seemed strange since Avery’s voice quavered with every word and Merritt felt her face set in a grim facade that cracked only for the ten-second bursts between “action” and “cut.” But Venner said it looked like a joy-orgasm (proving once again how unreal reality television was), and the crew nodded, although whether they agreed or were simply hot and tired of packing and unpacking their equipment Merritt could not tell.
As soon as Greg said, “That’s a wrap,” Avery grabbed Merritt’s hand.
“Please come with me.”
Merritt had to go. Avery hurried them up the stairs to the master bedroom of Uncle Oli’s apartment, closed the door, and locked it. She ran to the shimmery curtains and pulled them closed. The room sank into shadows.
“I didn’t kiss him.” Avery was out of breath. “It wasn’t a real kiss. I’ll show you. I’ll kiss you like Alistair kissed me, and you’ll see it was like…like shaking hands or CPR. And I didn’t mean to run away. It all happened so fast. Then Alistair pulled me outside, and he said if I went back to look for you, I’d ruin King and Crown, but I don’t want to do this marriage, and I don’t want you to think that there’s anything between us.”
“I don’t think you kissed him because you’re secretly sleeping together,” Merritt said. “But you’re getting married on September twenty-second in your house in L.A., and your colors are going to be teal and red and you can’t decide whether you want a Delicata Vagrant wedding dress or a Jasmine Culture.”
“Jasmine Culture. And all those dresses make you look like some kind of land-mermaid, and we don’t have a house. They’re renting some model home in this McMansion paradise, and it’s all a publicity stunt, and I tried to call you.” Avery’s words tumbled out like ball bearings spilled across the floor.
Greg had told her they were staying in Portland for an extra week. Venner had cornered her in the Elysium and told her about the marriage proposal. She had to consider it; she owed it to the team. Alistair’s foundation was on the verge of bankruptcy, and this would give him another season or two to get his finances in order. Her fans would love a marriage. The crew needed time to look for work if King & Crown was going off the air. And, yes, getting married to Alistair sounded extreme, but it was really just a simple brand-image solution.
“We’d just be putting a ring on what everyone thinks already. We’re throwing a big party. We can get married, do one or two more seasons, then end it the way it should end. I wanted to wrap it up, not just have it all fall apart. I owe that to Alistair. But if you tell me not to go through with it, I won’t.”
“I think you already are.”
“But we could…” Avery’s face said she knew how hard it would be to turn back now.
“Did you plan this?”
It would be easy to fight with Avery, to make everything her fault, to pretend not to believe her. Merritt sat down with her back against the wall. In that moment she knew: If she were angrier, she could stay with Avery. If she could bring herself to yell at Avery, accuse her of cheating or being a self-involved diva, they might last. If Merritt could throw everything Avery had done back in her face—the prom, the Elysium, the show, Avery’s secrecy, her nomad life—maybe they could be together. They could be one of those couples that bickered and picked on each other and stayed together because nothing better had come along or because all their fussing had worn them out and it didn’t seem worth the effort to find someone new to gripe at. But she didn’t want that with Avery.
“I didn’t plan anything.” Avery knelt before her. “I haven’t planned anything in my life, but I could now. Wait for me to fix this.”
Merritt stared down at her clasped hands. “Waiting? Is that what we were doing for fifteen years?”
She felt only sadness and quiet, like the empty deck of the Astral Reveler. Iliana thought love created more love, but love created loss. No matter what Avery tried to do, they would always end up like this, on opposite sides of their real lives. They would try, and they would apologize, and every time it would get harder until finally their affair ended, and they walked away strangers.
“We forgot this part,” Merritt said. “Those teenage summer romances don’t end with no one getting hurt. They end with a lot of bad poetry and listening to Death Cab for Cutie, and then when you’re grown up you look back and think no one got hurt because you can’t remember who you were before your heart broke.”
Merritt heard Avery draw in a sharp breath.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“Sweetie, were we ever going out?”
“I don’t want this to end.” Avery spoke quickly. “I missed you for fifteen years. I don’t want to lose you again. I know that dating me wouldn’t be like dating a regular girl. I know Alistair is worried about us, but he loves me. He and the crew can cover for me. I know it’s going to be weird, but DX can fly you places…fly us places…that no one will find.”
“That sounds like a threat,” Merritt said sadly.
“I know! I don’t think she even talks to the air traffic control tower or whatever, but she can do anything, and she’s been my friend since we were kids. She’ll help us. And I’ll call my mother. I hate her, but I’ll call Marlene and tell her I need to hide a gay affair. She does that. She’s got gay clients. Or I can get things settled with Alistair and the show and I can come out, and we’ll make it work. Please say yes.”
Merritt rose and turned back to the window. “Avery,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to be your second choice.”
“Marrying Alistair doesn’t mean anything. He’s not my choice. None of this is my choice.”
Merritt continued as though Avery had not spoken. “You can’t love the person who says, ‘To have me, you can’t have your own life.’ I watch you every minute you’re on set. You and Alistair are great together. This is your life. What kind of person would I be if I asked you to give that up? And there’s no way we can be together without one of us asking for that. I don’t want to pretend to be your trainer, lie to my friends, and sign nondisclosure agreements. You don’t even want to buy a house. You don’t want a mailing address, and I want someone who’ll stay. I want someone I’m not tying down. I want someone whose life I haven’t ruined by saying, ‘Be my girlfriend.’” Tears blurred Merritt’s vision, putting a filter over everything on the street below. “I can’t do this.”
“I wanted to take you to Taha’a,” Avery said to Merritt’s turned back. She sounded so sad, Merritt wanted to say, Of course. I’ll go anywhere. But she could see beyond Taha’a.
“We would go to those exotic places and stay in a hotel room drinking margaritas with the curtains closed. And then one day we’d get caught, and it would be the end of your career. Or we wouldn’t get caught, and one day I would want to go out for a coffee and a scone with you, and you wouldn’t be able to. Then I’d be the woman who broke up with Avery Crown over a coffee and a scone, and you’re worth so much more than that.” Merritt’s voice was rough. “This was the best summer of my life. Let’s not drag it out until we haven’t talked in nine months and we forget how good this was. Let’s keep these memories perfect.” She turned around and held out her hand to Avery.
“Like your locket!” Avery shot back with surprising ferocity. “You want to put us under a glass dome? In a birdcage? And say this was the past so it’s better? I’m not one of your antiques. I have a future, and we could have a future. We could move forward except that you keep your heart in a box. Is it me who’s not worth fighting for? If you’d found someone better, would you open your heart up? Or will no one be good enough? Is your A-list so short, you’re at the top and you’re the only one on it? Maybe those girls are right. You’re cold. It’s cold to say, ‘I care about you, but you’re not worth it.’ It’s cold to say, ‘Bad things might happen, so I’m not even going to try.’ If you do that, you’ll always be alone.”
Avery had seen the truth, as Merritt had always known she would.
“That’s what you signed up for,” Merritt shot back. “You knew. Of everyone in the world, you knew me best.”
Merritt stepped forward. She meant to kiss Avery, to draw her into an embrace that said, I may be cold on the inside, but I made you hot, a kiss that would leave Avery wanting, a kiss that would make all Avery’s other lovers look like sloppy middle schoolers who had learned to kiss by watching animals mating on the Discovery Channel. But she didn’t manage a kiss. She just clutched Avery, holding her to her chest as though they were the last two lovers on the Titanic.
“I’m sorry,” Merritt whispered.
Then she walked out of the room, out of the Elysium, past Venner, and all the way down to the river, where she stared at water that sparkled for everyone else except her.