The pandemonium moved to her farmhouse. Because she doesn’t care what destruction ensues here, Alice has allowed the film fanatics, the employees, and the parents to partake in the party however they so choose. The Wiley’s gang set up a highly competitive game of flip cup in the kitchen. The adult adults are chatting over store-bought cupcakes in the dining room. Oscar and his colleagues were allowed supervised access to Alice’s special box of memories and are still flipping out over her wealth of files in the living room.
Avery and Mateo are off with Stacia and Brandon respectively. Derick’s inside fetching me a refill. I’m soaking it all in. It’s been an eternity since I could stop, breathe, and reset. So much has happened this summer, and I haven’t processed any of it.
My lease is up in two weeks. Wiley’s closes for good in three. After Labor Day, I will be left to my own devices, trying to decide what opportunities to take, where to live, what to fill my days with. It’s overwhelming but, surprisingly, not debilitating.
Alice appears at the front door. She’s holding her box of memories close like she did that first day she showed it to me. “What are you doing out here all alone?”
I shrug. “Just needed some quiet. That’s all.”
She smiles demurely and comes closer. I notice she’s holding her ticket from tonight’s premiere in her free hand. “I wanted you to be around when I did this.” Ceremoniously, she sets the pristine ticket in the box among her most cherished keepsakes, solidifying the event I helped create as an important part of her artistic life. “In case I haven’t said it yet…thank you.”
“Thankyoufor trusting me with your movie. I mean, this was the most satisfying project I’ve ever worked on.” Impending grief tinges my words. I’m not emotionally ready to say goodbye to Wiley’s, just like I’m certain Alice wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Tammy. I know it’s not the same, but loss, in any capacity, still stings the soul. “I know I didn’t know Tammy and you didn’t talk about her all that much, but I think she would’ve been proud of you right now. I said it in the podcast, but I’ll say it again: Your love is lodged in every frame of that movie. It’s palpable. Truly.”
She nods with the heft of a thousand unspoken words. “Love is the all-mighty inspiration. Distilling it down to one-hundred-and-twenty minutes is hard, but making it work in real life is even harder. Both, in the end, are worth it. Even if they’re messy. Even if they end badly.” Her slight body shoves into my hip. “I suspect you have that kind of inspiration now too.” Derick and I haven’t said those words yet, but I swore I felt them as we sat in the bed of my dad’s pickup truck tonight, snacking, crying, and laughing. Upon second watch,Chompin’ at the Bitis thematically about the lengths we go to for love but maybe even more so about the sheer power of forgiveness.
“You might be right,” I say with a secretive smile.
“When the season at the lot is over,” Alice says, dancing around the pain of locking the gates for the last time, “let’s get serious about sharing my whole story.”
“You’d really be open to me writing your biography?”
She shrugs. “Unless you know of someone better to do it.”
“No.” I laugh. “No, let me do it. I want to do it. In September, we’ll get it right. Start from the beginning. I want to hear it all.”
Derick steps out into the cooling mid-August air. He’s got two fresh Solo cups in his hands and his camera strapped diagonally across his torso. He smiles a megawatt smile at us. “What are you two talking about?”
“Oh, nothing,” Alice intones. “Just Wren writing a bestselling book about me.”
“Really? Guess you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. Doing the interviews, writing the chapters, picking out a title.” He hands me the drinks.
“Oh no! I already have the perfect title.” Alice sashays over to the door. She raises her shoulders, tilts her head, and hits a photo-perfect pose. “Chompin’ at the Bitch: The Alice Kelly Story.”
Laughter spews out of all three of us. Derick snaps a picture of Alice cackling. She shoots him a disapproving look. “For the front cover,” he qualifies. This pleases her enough to let it go.
“Enjoy the evening, boys.” She dips back through the doorway.
Derick and I are alone. The roar of the party is muffled. Even though our labor wasn’t enough to make this place sell, I’m glad it was able to facilitate this. One evening of all-out bliss before it all goes away.
Derick’s expression, skewed by the dim overhead light, is inexplicably expectant. There’s a twitch in his right eyebrow that won’t stop, just like the smile that keeps expanding across his face.
“What’s happening right now? Where have you been?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He pulls out his phone—the one he bought himself to replace the one his dad had given him—and shows me the screen. The email I read there makes my heart stop.
FROM:[email protected]
SUBJECT:You Were Right
Dear Derick,
After careful consideration, I have decided to cease demolition plans for Wiley’s Drive-In.
The social media and in-person uproar I witnessed is a PR nightmare for Any Weather Transportation Group, and as I suspected, it is negatively affecting our sales this quarter. Commercial bus lines need community support, and it seems I’ve lost the Willow Valley trust. For that I am deeply ashamed, but mostly, I’m ashamed of losing yours.
As a father, I may be harsh and demanding, but it’s because I love you and I want what’s best for you. As such, once you help me find a new property for our pickup location parking lot, you are free to find your own job, wherever you so choose.Within reason.
