My entire body seems to turn into acid. ‘Oh yeah? A thing?’
‘Yeah. Stevie was supposed to come with, but he and I aren’t… really in a good place right now.’ Naomi sounds as though she’s in processing mode. I hate how reassured I feel about this.
‘Anyway, it’s some bullshit movie industry thing. You wanna come? I’m going to need backup. These things are intense if you’re not the type of person who gets paid to pretend to be whole other people for a living.’
‘Sure,’ I say, attempting to divine a balance between upbeat and only casually interested. ‘Happy to help.’ The way Naomi’s face reacts leads me to believe I register closer to deranged.
My hand shakes as I put on my eyeliner, resulting in one wing that is noticeably more pronounced than the other. Panicking, I wipe all my make-up off to start again. The significance of what tonight is going to bring into my life fills the room to the four corners.
As I’m readying to leave, I notice a message on Gchat from Violet.
‘My mum just died,’ it reads. ‘Happened ten minutes ago. I’m still in the hospice and people keep asking me questions that I don’t know how to answer. I don’t know what to do.’
Shit. ‘Oh, love, I am so sorry to hear this,’ I type back. ‘Do you have anyone there with you?’
‘No,’ she replies. ‘It was just the two of us, remember?’
I feel a cold panic. ‘How about a friend nearby? Or a neighbour? Someone you can call to be with you?’
‘That’ll be a NO No and again, a FKN NO. I just told you.’
Shit.
‘I’d really like it if you could just hop on a call with me right now,’ she types. ‘I could really use someone to just walk me through the next half an hour. I’ve never felt so lonely, seriously. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.’
Figuring that I can manage a few minutes, I’m about to call Violet’s Australian number when Naomi appears at the bedroom door.
‘You’re not ready? I’ll need to get going in five minutes,’ she warns.
Panicked, I begin typing with shaking fingers. ‘Violet, the thing is, Naomi has asked me to this party thing, and TED will definitely be there. It’s some industry party, sort of important.’
I wince even as I type. I’m hoping that the Tedette part of her will understand the hugeness of what’s happening over here.
‘I can’t breathe right now. Truly,’ she writes. ‘So much for being the Den Mama!’
‘Violet, I’m doing this for all of us!’ I shoot back. ‘And I need to go right this minute or I won’t make it at all. Ipromise I’ll come back to you later, when I get the chance. Can you sit tight for just an hour or two and I swear I’ll check back in? And I’ll have good news about Ted, promise.’
‘Good fkn news for you, you mean,’ Violet writes. Her green online dot dims to grey promptly.
It’s a less-than-ideal situation, granted, but I need to shake it off. Tonight I’m meeting Ted properly, and I cannot pass up the chance for anything, even this.
By the time I’ve finished reapplying eye make-up, I look vaguely passable as a person who knows how to put make-up on. There’s something about knowing that the rest of your life is about to begin that really makes it impossible to put on eyeliner. I give myself one last look in the mirror, and then I get into the cab with Naomi, feeling as wickedly clever as a stowaway.
‘You seem a bit distracted,’ I tell Naomi as she gnaws on a knuckle and peers out the window.
‘Yeah,’ she exhales. ‘Stevie and I had a big talk last night. One of those deep and meaningfuls.’ A rock of worry lands on my already simmering nausea. No more complications, I beg of you.
‘Is that… a good thing?’ I ask.
‘He thinks I should go to AA. He says my drinking is a problem. Or more specifically, it’s becoming a problem to him, and I should do something about it.’ She whispers the ‘drinking’ bit towards me, as though the Ethiopian cab driver gives a single monkey’s about what she is saying.
The thing is, part of me knows Stevie is dead right. Naomi is the type of person that says she drinks on the weekend, but then the weekend somehow mysteriously starts on a Tuesday. Her life would likely be infinitely better if she didn’t drink.
But there’s also an opportunity there to unseat Stevie and elbow him out of the way, which would make getting to stay in her house more viable. That much I can see.
‘Honestly, fuck Stevie,’ I tell Naomi. ‘That’s bang out of line. He’s only been with you for five minutes. Who does he think he is telling you that? You don’t have a problem with drinking.’ The untruth is bitter in my mouth.
‘He– he said that you would say that, but he also says that Irish drinking and Canadian drinking are two very different things.’ She laughs sadly.
