Animate Me (30 page)

Billie’s words from several weeks ago ring in my ear, how I’m going to get tossed to the curb like a cheap hooker. I don’t care about my job as much as I care about losing Brooke.

“But he’s all wrong for Brooke,” I insist.

“I know, but he’s made her believe that her career is in his hands. And sadly, I think she believes it.”

“I hate how he tries to control her. I would never do that. I’m good for Brooke,” I counter.

“I know that, Romeo, but you guys became friends what…a month ago? She’s been with Arnauld for over three years.”

“He’s never gonna give her up, is he?” My fists curl over my knees.

She raises her eyebrows and gives me a stern look. “Did you really think he would? He sees his prize drifting away, and he wants to secure it. I don’t even think he intends to marry her; he just wants to make sure she doesn’t end up with you or anyone else.”

“Really?”

“That’s how it looks to me.”

“And what about Brooke? What do you think she wants?” I ask nervously.

“I’m not sure. Before she met you, I thought her career was all she really cared about. I’ve never seen someone work so hard. She was obsessed. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Really?” I ask, hopeful. But then I picture Arnold and Brooke on the stage tonight and I plummet back into despair. “But what if she marries Arnold?” I ask, as I motion to the bartender for another drink. He nods and pulls the bottle off the mirrored shelf.

“Well, you just can’t let that happen.”

I don’t remember how much longer Morgan and I stayed at The Frolic Room. I have a vague recollection of lying with my cheek pressed down on the Formica tabletop, moaning as the warbly old jukebox played Frank Sinatra and Peggy Lee ballads. It seemed the properly pathetic conclusion to the worst evening of my life.

“Come-on, Cowboy,” she says finally pulling me out of the booth. “I’m sure the coast is clear now. I’m driving you home.”

“My car,” I mumble.

“Give me forty bucks,” she commands. “We’ll pay off the parking attendant so you don’t get towed. You can get it tomorrow.”

I hand her my wallet and watch her pull out the cash. She drags me to the lot and deposits me in her car before fast talking the head attendant. Even in my drunk stupor, I realize that Morgan’s a force to be reckoned with.

Gratefully I don’t toss my cookies on the drive to Burbank, even though the air freshening thing dangling from her rear-view mirror is making me gag. I hang my head out the window and let the air slap my face as Morgan weaves along the Cahuenga Pass that carves through the Hollywood Hills towards the valley.

I manage to remember my address and once we arrive she takes my arm and walks me to my door like some kind of backwards date. I drop my keys fumbling at the front door, so she picks them up and helps me get the door open.

“Morgan…” I start and she holds her hand up to stop me.

“No, Nathan. No need to thank me. Just do me a favor and don’t let that fucker win. Okay?”

I stand up straighter. It’s like she’s slapped me in the face. I’m alert again. “No, he can’t win,” I agree, tightening my hands into fists.

“Now you’re talking!” She grabs my fancy shirt by the collar and shakes me. “Look it may get worse before it gets better, but you can’t give up. You have to convince Brooke that she deserves real love.”

“I’ll do my best,” I assure her as I watch her pivot and march down the walkway.

“Thank you, Morgan,” I call after her.

In her final grand gesture, she doesn’t look back but lifts her hand and waves once. It’s like a salute from my very own general in this fight for Brooke. Tonight may have required a retreat, and Arnold may have won the battle, but somehow, some way…I’ve got to win the war.

I have one final thought before I tumble inside and deposit my hip-fail of an outfit into the bottom of the clothes hamper:

Damn, I’m lucky to have Morgan on my side.

• • •

“Dad?” I say softly, trying to find my voice. Each moment since I woke has felt like being dragged across a bed of gravel. My head’s throbbing and my skin feels raw.

“Son, are you okay?”

“Yeah, but I need to ask a big favor. I need a ride into Hollywood to get my car, and I can’t get a hold of Curtis. I could call a cab but I’d rather have back up if there’s a problem.”

This isn’t the kind of call my Dad’s ever gotten from me, so he knows to take it seriously. “I’ll be there shortly,” he responds without a pause. “I calculate between twenty and thirty minutes barring any unforeseen traffic issues.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Twenty-three minutes later when I get in his car he studies me carefully. He appears relieved to see no obvious signs of bodily harm, but he must sense my heart’s wounded.

“Hollywood?” he asks.

I give him directions the way he likes them, precise and without extraneous information. He has verbal and visual total recall, so I know I won’t need to repeat myself.

“Exactly what are the circumstances for this unfortunate state you find yourself in? It is clear that copious amounts of alcohol were involved.”

“Yes, I had a friend drive me home last night since I was too intoxicated to drive.”

“Well, if you’re going to have a bender, at least you used wise judgment.”

“Well, my friend did, but I’m sure that I would’ve come to that conclusion on my own.”

“I’m don’t want to pry, Nathan, but is this about Brooke? I deduce you are crestfallen, and I fear that there’s been a setback.”

“You could say that,” I admit quietly. “Last night Arnold announced he plans to marry her.”

“I see,” he says. “That’s a most definite set-back…a chink in the armor, a fly in the ointment, a monkey wrench thrown into the mix.”

“Yeah, I’d like to stick that damn monkey face first in the ointment,” I growl.

Dad gives me a puzzled look and then refocuses on the issue.

“I must ask this, Nathan and answer it honestly. Does she want to marry him? Does she love him?”

I shake my head vehemently. “I don’t think so. He’s changed, and not for the better over the course of their relationship. I can’t even figure out what she still sees in him other than job security.”

“I see,” he replies thoughtfully. “Okay then, let’s get to work with some basic analysis. Grab the pad on the back seat and there are pens in the glove box.”

I know better than to question Dad when the pads come out. In his mind, every problem requires a list and extensive notes to examine. It’s how he makes sense of the world.

“Okay, draw a line down the middle—a column for you, and a column for him.”

My line is shaky. I scrawl Nathan and Arnold on the top line.

“Age relative to Brooke?”

“I think he’s in his late thirties or early forties, and she’s thirty.”

Dad lifts his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. “Write the subject on the far left, then minus four for you and plus ten for him.”

“Career?”

“Animator, versus company president.” I dutifully write out the details.

“Financial Standing?”

“Well, he makes a lot more than me, that’s for sure. But I do okay.”

Dad nods towards the pad so that I write it down.

“Education?”

“I heard he has an MBA from Harvard. I have an art degree.” I cringe at how pathetic that sounds.

“Level of attractiveness from a female’s perspective?”

“Geek, versus Adonis,” I scribble down, my spirits falling further.

“Physique?”

“I’m in good shape, but he’s in great shape.”

Dad frowns. Something occurs to me.

“You know what though? I think I’m bigger. I mean I think my, well you know…” I point down at my crotch.

“Your penis?” Dad questions matter of fact, like I’m comparing beaker tubes in a lab.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my penis is much bigger than his. Brooke only had regular sized condoms at her place which wouldn’t fit me.”

He finally grins with this victory. “Well, you are an Evans, Son. Besides, statistics show that well-endowed men have greater success securing their desired mate. Take my word for it; that’s a definite asset.”

Okay then. Finally, one for the home team.

“So while we are on that subject, how about sexual prowess?” he asks.

“Well that’s like comparing Pee Wee Herman to Warren Beatty in his day.”

He coughs. I’m impressed that Dad can keep a straight face.

“Sharing common interests with Brooke?”

“I think I win there, hands down. I don’t even think Arnold likes cartoons.”

“Okay, that’s good. And finally, some of the most significant attributes…personality? List five qualities each.”

“Devoted, determined, awkward, inexperienced, hopeful…versus powerful, pseudo-charming, confident, persuasive…ASSHOLE.”

He pulls the car over and takes the pad out of my hand. “Okay, let me review and summarize.” He studies the two columns, his brow furrowed in concentration. He sets the pad on the console and turns towards me.

“You two couldn’t be more different. Brooke must be terribly confused. Here she’s with this Arnold person for how long did you say?”

“Three years.”

“Yes, and then you come along and seismically impact her world.” He taps the pencil down the list. “You are young, inexperienced, less successful, less attractive…”

“Thanks Dad, I’m feeling like a million bucks right about now.”

“Let me finish, Nathan. What I was trying to say is that despite all of these shortcomings, she’s undeniably drawn to you. There must be an extremely powerful chemistry between you.”

I nod enthusiastically.

“And you love her.”

“With all my heart.”

“Well then prove to her that you can be strong and confident too. Even the most successful women want to know that you can be their equal. You can do it, Son. Just think, you are about to make a deal with your comic book that could lead to significant life-altering success. You’re the most defiantly determined person I know. Your entire life I’ve watched you single-mindedly and tenaciously go after anything you really wanted.”

I nod. He’s right. Once I set my mind to something I can never give up until I achieve what I want, or get what I need. And I want Brooke. I need Brooke.

“Most importantly you need to claim her, as man has claimed his woman throughout the ages. This is not rocket science, Son; it’s human primal instinct. Make her understand that she should be with you…quite simply, she
is
your chosen mate. You need to be hers. We’re a highly developed society, but in the end we’re all animals. And it’s still a jungle out there.”

I smile as I picture Brooke and I as Simba and Nala from
the Lion King
, running side by side along the animated savannah.

He lifts up the pad, and waves his hand over my writing as he continues.

“And all of the scientific data, statistical facts and empirical evidence can’t compete with the indefinable heart’s desire. For if in the end, she loves you, and she chooses you…none of the rest of this will matter.”

He tears the sheet off the pad, wads it up and tosses it in the back seat.

Stunned, I look in behind us and then back at my dad. I’ve never seen him discard the facts…ever. I didn’t think that man had a recklessly romantic bone in his body. Boy, was I wrong. I can’t help but grin.

Before he moves back into traffic he gives me a firm nod. “Looks like you’ve got some serious wooing to do.”

Happily my Mini-Cooper is waiting patiently for me when we pull into the deserted lot, the lone surviving soldier from my hellish night. I give Dad one of our awkward hugs and thank him for not just the ride, but also his advice. He looks pleased that his pep talk seems to have inspired me.

When I get home, I fire up my computer. My task is very specific as I get on the internet, my fingers flying over the keyboard.

Google search
: definition of woo

Results:
Woo: To seek the affection of with intent to romance.

I return to the Google page looking for another form of help. I type in
How to Woo a Girl.
The results flash in a mere second, and fifth item down, I find just what I’m looking for on WikiAnswers.

How to Woo A Girl

The list starts out rather uninspiring. I was hoping for magic potions, spells or at least instructions as to where I can buy pheromones to physically draw her to me like a huge magnet that never releases its hold.

Show interest…look in her eyes when you speak to her…be sensitive and caring…be assertive, and lead…
yeah, yeah, yeah

I scan further down. What’s this?

Whisper in her ear…
That’s weird, but certainly easy. Do they mean all the time? That would be ridiculous. I continue on.

Dress nicely
… Shoot, not with the clothes again.

Be nice to your young relatives in front of her…
I don’t have any young relatives. Maybe I could borrow some? Shit, this stuff is complicated.

Help others in front of her, like the poor and needy…

Make her laugh…
I’m assuming not when you’re helping the poor and needy.

For holidays like Valentine’s Day be sweet and thoughtful instead of cliché…

blah, blah, blah

Don’t be overtly sexual…
well, it’s too late for that one.

Learn to dance, take ballroom dancing lessons…
seriously? That has disaster written all over it.

Be spontaneous!

And finally,
take the first step. If you’re ever going to win the prize you have to tell the prize you want it.

Now that makes be most sense to me of all the suggestions.

Wow. There are so many things to consider that my head’s spinning. Did Arnold do all this stuff for Brooke? I mean I really doubt that he whispered in Brooke’s ear or helped others, but I know for a fact that he’s a good dancer.

I read the list three times, jotting down ideas on note cards. I then tape up everything on my bathroom mirror so that I can review the suggestions often. The last card I wrote I hang in the most prominent location, right at eye level: