Sounds Like Crazy (40 page)

“There are too many lies between us, Peter.”

We sat silently drinking our wine.The food finally arrived.

Peter savagely forked ravioli and said, “I never lied to you, Holly.”

“Oh, no?” I left my food untouched.

“I was protecting you.”

I let out a snort. “Thanks for that.” Peter continued to eat.
“Dishonesty protects no one,” I said. The Silent One bowed inside my head.

“Tell that to yourself.” Peter pointed his knife at me. “You never told me you had a brother.”

My mouth hardened and my eyes deepened in anger.“I have lied by omission, Peter. But the things I omitted were none of your business.”

“You admit that you’ve lied then?”

“Yes, I’ve lied. Whereas the things you kept from me were merely because you were protecting yourself from my reaction.”

“Do you know how hard it is to be with you, Holly?” said Peter.“You always held me at a distance, and I tried every way to get close to you.”

“That blonde at the library was your way of getting close to me?” The people at the tables on either side of us stopped talking.

“She was a friend,” said Peter.

I laughed. “A friend? How stupid do you think I am?” Peter glared at me. “I almost got hit by a car that day.”

“But you didn’t,” said Peter.

“But I almost did.” At that moment I knew he had seen me. Funny thing was, it didn’t matter.

“Do you know how horrible it was to have you leave me there? If you were trying to get close, you have a funny way of showing it.”Well,
almost
didn’t matter.

“I admit, I made mistakes,” said Peter.

“I’ll drink to that.” I raised my glass.

“Holly, you’re making a scene.”

“Who cares?”

“Who are you? I don’t even know you anymore.”

“And you never did. But then, I don’t know you either,” I said.

“So what do you want to know?” said Peter. “I’m not going to tell you my life is none of your business.”

“Nothing,” I said. And I realized that I didn’t want to know anything. I no longer cared. I had tortured myself long enough over what I didn’t know about Peter. I felt like I had dropped a burden I had been carrying for a long time. Maybe this meant I would get a chance at happiness, like my father and Linda, who were happily married, and like my mother, who was a proud single woman.

“Come on, Holly.” Now he was trying to cajole me.

For a moment, I contemplated being honest with him. But then I realized that we had no foundation for honesty and it was too late to build one now. Dropping the disguise would just extend the game I’d grown tired of playing. “I think I’m done, Peter.”

“You haven’t even touched your food.”

Our relationship had started with me worrying that he would discover the real me and leave. Why should it end on the same note?

“No, I mean with you. I’m done,” I said quietly. I got up and removed my coat and bag from the back of the chair. I stood there for a second and then said, “I wish you all the best.”

“Holly—”

“No,” I said with finality.“I honestly do wish you all the best. But we’re done.”

“Who’s going to pay for this?”

“You are.” I smiled. “Take care of yourself, Peter.” I turned and walked out of the restaurant to the cheering from the couch in my head.

 

My cell phone rang as I put the key in the front door.

“May as well get it over with,” said Betty Jane inside my head.
“He’s probably calling for your credit card number and breakup sex. It was a nice little performance, but I know you.You’ll back down like you always do.” She sharpened her nails with an emery board.

I pulled my phone out of my bag. She had not lost her impeccable sense of timing. I pressed the answer button and said, “Hello.”

I
t was nine in the morning. I stood on First Avenue, wrapped my scarf a little tighter around my neck, and pulled down my hat.The bitter cold ate through my winter coat. Even though the weather forecast called for blue skies, the windchill made thirty degrees feel a lot more like twenty. My breath formed like a ghost in front of me while I walked down the street replaying last night’s phone call in my head.

I had recognized the number, but hearing her say my name had still startled me.

“Listen, doll,” said Brenda Barry, my former agent, in response to my surprised hello. Then she continued without pausing. “I got a call from the studio.They want you there tomorrow morning, at ten sharp, to run through story concepts.”

Brenda hadn’t spoken to me since I demanded she stop sending me on those demeaning auditions. She had lectured me and then unapologetically told me that she couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Walter Torrent. I knew that meant that he’d told her to
humiliate me. And if I wasn’t going to suck it up and take it until Walter recovered, she and I were through.

“Wha—”

“Holly,” said Brenda, “I don’t want to hear any reason why you can’t make it.”

“Tell her to send our car,” Betty Jane exclaimed inside my head. “We must arrive in style.” Her palms met under her chin and she covered her mouth coquettishly with the knuckles of her hands.

“How?” I let the word dangle there as I tried to find the rest of the question. I’d heard that Walter said he didn’t care if God himself wanted me back, I would never do voice-overs for
The Neighborhood
again.
Who trumped God?

“Never mind how. You be there tomorrow. I’ll call a car service.”

“No, thanks.” I was still dazed. “I can get myself there.”

“You!” sputtered Betty Jane inside my head. “How dare you rob me of my entrance.” This unbridled anger was becoming commonplace for her.

“Gotta run. Good luck.” Brenda hung up.

In a cold, flat voice, Betty Jane said,“You can rot in hell, Holly Miller. My voice will never come out of your mouth again.”

“Is that a promise?” I retorted. Even though the haughty words sounded good, the tiny flame of hope flickered and faded. Betty Jane’s was the voice Walter loved. If she didn’t speak, the session would be a déjà vu of my last day on set.

 

When I woke up the next morning, I asked myself,
Why go?
And the answer was because even though my career had been taken down by a wrecking ball named Betty Jane, I was still a professional. They had booked me, so I’d show up. On time. I checked
my watch. Plenty of cushion to get down to Chelsea Piers.
Ready
?

Inside my head, Betty Jane opened an eye and then quickly shut it, but she didn’t budge from her bed. Sarge and Aiden were dressed as usual in their matching navy peacoats, and the Silent One was wrapped and up for walking meditation.

When we reached the street, I felt a rush of longing for the old days with Ruffles narrating.Today’s course was perfect.With her guidance, I could have done a gold medal run to the subway station.Without her, I did only a silver, but I made it to the station without incident.

When the F train pulled in, the Committee’s living room switched to a subway train inside my head. Betty Jane continued her pretend slumber, so her canopy bed was in the middle of the Committee’s subway car—pink satin right in between the poles. I noted with satisfaction that the garbage strewn in my car was mirrored in theirs. It brushed right up against Betty Jane’s white dust ruffle. When we boarded the M23, the scene in my head switched to a bus. Betty Jane’s bed dipped in the middle to fit in the aisle. The canopy pressed upward like a steeple and crushed against the ceiling. I ruminated on the strange world I lived in as the bus ferried us down to the Chelsea Piers.

The same guard who used to cover for me when I would sneak out to smoke greeted me with a wave of his hand.“Will we be seein’ you around here again?” he asked.

“Hopefully,” I said brightly.

“Good luck then.”

“Thanks.” I smiled and waved as I continued on.

In the lobby the receptionist said,“Hello,” and handed me the story line. I scanned it. Betty Jane’s eyes sprang open. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up and saw Mike.

“Hey,” I said shyly.

“Hey,” he said. His hand was still resting on my shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

I held his gaze for a moment, and then looked down and said, “Honestly, I’m a little scared. I can’t do Violet today.” Inside my head, Betty Jane threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Then she stood up and stalked out of the room with the bed disappearing in her wake.

“Can you do Harriet?” said Mike.

“If they want her,” I answered in Ruffles’s voice. From the lines they’d given me, it looked like they were considering expanding Harriet into a larger part. I was afraid to ask him, though.

“That one sounds perfect.” Mike squeezed my shoulder and then took his hand away. The heat from it lingered for a few more seconds and I wondered if it was bad to date your boss. “I am not going to lie to you, Holly. If ratings weren’t dipping, and fans weren’t writing in, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I understand,” I said, biting the inside of my mouth.

“I’ll push the Harriet story line first. Just steer clear of Walt’s World until things get back on track.”

My stomach plummeted to my feet.

“To torment like always,” said Mike.

I laughed and relaxed.

“Good luck, and see you in there.” He gave me a little tap with his fist on my upper arm. Aiden used to do that when I had to go confess some misdeed to my mother. I felt my shoulders relax.

“Thanks,” I said with a small smile.

About ten minutes later the receptionist said, “Holly, they’re ready for you now.”

I entered the room.The same one I had done my first reading in. That day seemed so long ago, and that girl was gone. I looked around to see who was there, greeted the casting director, the director, and Walter. Mike walked in. I said hello to him and then stood there waiting for what was next.

Mike looked at the script and said,“Why don’t we start with Harriet?”

Walter nodded his head and grunted, “Fine.”

He’s not bitter.
Then the words
diva
,
entitled
, and
I made you
rang fresh in my head. I inhaled deeply and launched into the lines they had given me earlier. I moved around the room, punctuating my monologue with hand movements where appropriate. Walter sat there nodding. Once or twice he asked me to change the pace or tweak a tone.

“Bravo,” said Mike.

“I’ve been working on this voice in my spare time,” I said. “I’ve expanded the range quite a bit.”

“Let’s hear it,” said Mike.

I did the same monologue I had done for the parents and kids at the play the week before.When I closed in on the finish, Walter was leaning all the way forward on his chair. I put my palms on the table and slid forward, saying my last lines almost inches from his face.

Walter clapped and said, “Fantastic!” Then to Mike he said, “This fits right in with the idea to push out this character a bit more.”

Funny,Walter had always preferred the Violet character.
I have him. Cue the band.

“Okay, let’s switch now to Violet.”

My feat became a false note. Mike shook his head slightly.

Betty Jane appeared in the Committee’s living room and said sweetly, “I’ll do the voice.” I adjusted my breathing to match Betty Jane’s breathy Southern drawl. “Oh, no, sugar,” Betty Jane gushed, “you need to let me have control. It’s the only way.”

I had been doing Ruffles’s voice without shifting, so I ignored her and read the first line.

My knees drooped. All blood rushed from my head. I heard slacks slide across leather as Walter and Mike shifted in their chairs.
I can’t go through this again.

“Sugar, we can be on top once more,” Betty Jane said sweetly. “But . . .” she said sharply.
Here we go.
Whoever said Southern belles are sweet never encountered this sour pie
.
“I have some requirements.” Betty Jane pulled her mirror out of the drawer and started to inspect her pores.

I watched Walter as I listened to her. His impatient body language screamed,
I told you so
.

“All I am asking for is our original agreement with some teensy-weensy adjustments. If you just say yes, we can work out the finer points later.Without Milton,” she added hastily.

Everyone waited. All eyes were on me. I remembered the scene last July, when Betty Jane refused and I stood there stupidly, just like I stood there now. The only difference was that then I had the protective glass of the booth between me and them.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Picked up my glass and sipped some water. Betty Jane also sipped something.

“Holly, honey, it’s just li’l ol’ me. I’m on your side. I just want us to be back where we belong again.” Betty Jane smiled and fluttered her eyelashes.