I think of Teddy’s story about Cher.
“Famous singer from my day,” I say. “He actually lives in Palm Springs.”
She shrugs. I return to texting.
“Are you, like, famous or something?” she asks. “You said you’re a writer and an actor.”
I glance up, and Ava is back at the railing.
“Damn it. You didn’t drown.”
She grins. “I’m a survivor.”
“Finally, we have something in common.”
I take off my sunglasses and consider her question.
“I should be,” I finally say.
“So should I.”
I nod. “Touché.”
What is it with me and young people? I’ve also sought their approval more than anyone else in my life. And they’ve always been more honest than my therapist.
For some reason, perhaps the two cocktails I had at Church of Mary to deaden the horror movie I was trapped in, I tell this young stranger my abbreviated life story.
“God, that sucks,” she says when I’m done. “And you’restilltrying. Why don’t you just get drunk every day and hang out at this ridiculous house with a bunch of hot guys?”
“Um, I already kind of do that,” I say.
“I think I love you.”
I get up and walk to the edge of the pool. I take a seat, still holding my cell, and dangle my feet into the water. A glorious pattern of blue shimmers beneath the surface.
“I still have this overwhelming need to prove myself,” I explain. “I have this desire to be...”
“Famous?” Ava asks. “Rich?”
“Immortal.”
The word drifts across the pool like the bee that is now dipping its body into the water to cool off, and then it sinks, like the bee.
I jump into the pool, swim to the other end, cup my hands and save the bee. It flies off.
“You want a second chance,” Ava says.
“Yes.”
“Everyone wants to be rich and famous,” she says. “But no one thinks they have to try.”
“You are an old soul.”
Ava slips off the floaty and swims over to me, resting her arms on the side of the pool, facing the mountains.
“My brother, Sean, is the chosen one,” Ava says, using her fingers to emphasize “chosen.” “Straight A’s, great athlete, I mean, like, he got every good gene in our family and, believe me, there aren’t that many. My parents sacrificed everything for him. It’s like I don’t even exist. I mean, whose parentsbothgo off and leave their daughter alone with their grandparents while she’s still in high school? They couldn’t wait a year or two? It’s not normal.” Ava looks at me. “Is it?”
“No” I say, “that’s not normal.”
