“Oh, Vivian, I’ll give you whatever the hell you want. Negotiate for this one too, huh? Her rate is too low.” She looked at Bryn again, but this time she really looked at her. “I don’t care how busy you get, you make space for me, okay?” Yenni said it like Bryn didn’t still have three jobs. Like Yenni hadn’t just signed a seven-figure deal.
Bryn nodded.
A knock at the door interrupted the strangest interaction of Bryn’s life, and she’d once consoled a woman who couldn’t revive her variegated Monstera.
“We’ve let the attendees in and we’re ready when you are,” a voice came through the crack in the door before it closed again.
The hour went by in a blur, and there were so many questions they ran into a second hour. By the time the three of them sat at a long table to meet fans and sign whatever items they’d brought, Bryn could tell Vivian was tired. Tired but not drained.
“You okay?” Bryn asked, mindful of not getting too close. Of not sparking rumors. Everything between them was far too new to risk making it public.
Vivian gave her a quick nod, and Bryn leaned away. She was muscling through to get to the end and Bryn didn’t want to make it worse by putting a spotlight on it.
They’d been signing and hugging and taking selfies for so long, even Bryn’s extrovert batteries were feeling the strain. Her face hurt from smiling and the strangest thing she’d signed was a styrofoam mango.
The signing line had thinned, and the bookstore folks were trying to get people moving toward the exits because the event had run well over the advertised time. No one seemed to be in a hurry, but there were a pair of women whispering and staring at Vivian.
Seated between Bryn and Yenni, Vivian kept looking at the women obviously whispering about her. The more they stared, the more uncomfortable Vivian was. Bryn could feel the rigidity in Vivian’s spine in her own tensing stomach.
A flash of glossy paper hit the overhead lighting, and horror dropped Bryn’s body temperature to below freezing. Had someone brought the nude centerfold? No one would do that. Would someone do that?
One woman finally shoved the one holding the magazine, and they started toward the table. Bryn stood. She was no Vivian at putting people in their place, but she wasn’t going to let anyone embarrass her. Not allow them to even get close enough to shame her.
But there was something about the bright red face and nervous expression that made Bryn pause. That made her wait just a second.
When she approached, Bryn got a better look at the magazine the woman was clutching to her chest. It wasn’t what she was expecting, unless there was a nudie mag with a cityscape on the back.
By the time the woman reached the table, her eyes were on the floor and her entire body was visibly shaking. Bryn wanted to jump to her feet again, but this time it wasn’t to fend off a creep, it was to hug a stranger.
“Would you like her to sign that?” Bryn suggested to the woman who looked like she might faint before she managed to open her mouth.
She looked at Bryn and nodded with tangible gratitude. “My name is Leslie.” She cleared her throat. “I was such a fan of your show.”
“She taped every single episode,” her companion chimed in for her.
Vivian smiled. “That’s very kind. Thank you.”
“And she’s seen every made-for-TV movie you were in,” her friend added. “Recorded those too.” She nudged Leslie. “Tell her, honey. I promise it’s not weird.”
Bryn and Vivian exchanged looks. Non-weird things didn’t usually have to be labeled accordingly, but no one moved. No one rushed them along.
“I, um, I didn’t exactly know why you were my favorite actress.” Leslie opened her eyes in horror. “I mean, I?—”
“I know what you mean,” Vivian said with a gentle voice Bryn had never heard before.
“Well, then, I was in an airport in Toronto when I was looking at colleges, and I saw this.” She placed the magazine on the table in front of Vivian, cover on full display. A photo of Vivian, sitting on a generic sit-com set, but it was zoomed out to show all the behind the scenes equipment.
Even after all her research, Bryn had no idea that Vivian’s public coming out had been in a Canadian magazine.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Leslie muttered with tears in her eyes. “After so many years, I understood why I felt so connected to you and I think it’s because I saw something about myself I didn’t have words for. And I read every single word of this interview, over and over until it taught me the language for everything I was feeling. Until I figured out that I was gay.” She tried to swallow and catch her breath at the same time. “And even when my coming out didn’t go so well, I just kept coming back to this article, and then your audiobooks, and it all helped me feel less alone. It helped me feel less lost until I found my community and my friends and myself.”
This time when Leslie faltered, it was Vivian on her feet. She whipped around the front of the table and opened her arms.
“Can I hug?—”
Vivian hadn’t gotten the question out before Leslie was folding into her. Until she was crying. And then Bryn was crying. Until Yenni swatted at her own flushed face and muttered, “Well, fuck.”
Vivian held her for a surprisingly long time. When they finally separated, Vvian signed the magazine, scrawled something inside, and posed for the teariest selfie of the day.
