Bo turns the videogame off and stands.
“Let’s go outside.”
Bo’s office building is one of four in a small business park called the Quadrangle. In the courtyard between the buildings, there’s a manmade pond with a fountain in the middle. Swans sail through its green water.
We sit down on a bench near the water. It’s two-thirty and very hot. Someone sits by themselves on an identical bench across the pond, reading a book and eating lunch.
Bo asks me where I’m going, and I tell him that I don’t know for sure. I’m considering taking what money I’ve got left, buying a used car, and driving down into Mexico.
“What’s in Mexico?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Desert, ocean, tacos. I’ve always wanted to go.” This is true. I have always been intrigued by its wildness.
“You have to leave this afternoon? Why can’t you stay with us a little longer. I love having you here.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Hannah doesn’t.”
“Fuck her. You’re my brother.”
I pat Bo on the shoulder, and then something happens that I never even expected. I start to cry. Not weeping or anything, just tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I’m going to miss you very much,” I say.
Bo squeezes the back of my neck.
“I’m sorry about what I said the other night, Bo.”
He smiles. “Don’t be.”
“No, I should never have—”
“It’s fine. Look, I thought a lot about our talk out on the soccer field. Especially after I never saw you yesterday, and you didn’t come home last night.” Bo looks at me the way only he looks at me. Sometimes, I think he’s the only person in the world who loves me. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, Lance. I don’t know why you came out here. Why you’re leaving now. I love you. You know that. You know that?” I nod yes. “Maybe I’m off base here, but I’m just going to say it. And I say this in love. You seem to me like a man who’s lost his bearings. You come out here, you buy flashy clothes.” He motions to my beautiful leather pants. “You rent a Hummer, you do the nightclub thing. I don’t understand where you’re at, Lance, but if I can help you in any way—money, a place to stay, finding a job, whatever—please let me. The other night, I sort of made it sound like my boring suburban life is the only way. I know it’s not. I know it’s probably not for you. And I’m sorry I pulled that shit on you.”
I smile at my brother.
“I envy your life, Bo. No, I envy your ability to love it. To let it settle you. ”
“You’re not at peace are you?”
“No. But I’m getting there. I honestly am.”
And I start to tell him about the spider web, but I stop myself. I don’t think I could bear him not getting it.
Chapter 21
Rex saves the day ~ looking fabulous ~ picks up Kara ~ quells her fear ~ on the Red Carpet ~ talks with Entertainment Magazine ~ Harvey Wallison ~ The Action ~ the scene that made Jim cry
At 4:30, I realize I haven’t called the limousine service. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Stars don’t step out onto the Red Carpet from their Hondas. In my BlackBerry, there’s a number for Rex Smothers with “limo” in parentheses beside the name. I call up Rex and tell him I’d forgotten to call him, but that I’m attending the premier of Richard Haneline’s new movie at the El Capitan Theatre tonight and would give him any amount of money if he could pick me up at my place in one hour.
Sure he can. Rex is a hell of a guy.
I don’t go the traditional tuxedo route (we’ll save that for the Oscars). Several years ago, I wore this slick gray Armani to the premier of Under the Sea. I find that very suit hanging on a row of two dozen Armanis, and it puts a smile on my face like you wouldn’t believe.
I shave, style my hair, and put on a touch of eyeliner. Honestly, I’ve never looked so good. It’s frightening. There’s a change now in my eyes, too. A calm, blue confidence.
Kara’s waiting in the lobby of her apartment building when Rex pulls up in the black limo. I step out and hold the door for her. Man, she’s beautiful. I tell her so. She’s wearing a chiffon evening dress, which is such a deep shade of green it could be black.
We climb in and we’re off. Rex looks back and tells us we’ll be at the theatre in ten minutes. He’s a small, black man. You can hardly see him over the steering wheel.
“It’s so good to see you,” I tell Kara.
“I’m scared, Jim.”
I pull her close to me and take a whiff of her hair. I stroke her bare shoulder.
“Are people going to ask who I am?”
“They might.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Look at me.” She looks at me. “I’ve done this so many times it’s boring. You’re with me tonight. No one’s going to bother you. If a reporter happens to ask you something inappropriate, I’ll be right there beside you. Besides, all the questions will probably come at me anyway.” I kiss her forehead. “Just smile and enjoy it. You’re going to be famous tonight, Kara.”
“I don’t want to be famous, Jim. I just want to be with you.”
Richard Haneline’s new movie is called The Action, and from the previews I’ve seen, I have to say it actually looks halfway decent. It’s apparently about this degenerate gambler who takes out a second mortgage on his house, cashes in his kids’ college savings, and sneaks off to Vegas. It’s good to see Rich starring in a character-driven movie. If I have to watch him blow up one more thing, I’m seriously not going to be his friend anymore.
The clock on the dashboard reads 6:40 when Rex stops the limousine at the Red Carpet and opens his door. As he walks around to open the door for us, I look at Kara and kiss her on the lips.
She squeezes my hand.
“If you move more than two feet away from me at any time this evening, I’ll kill you, Jim.”
Beyond the tinted glass, I see swarms of people. I put on my deep dark shades.
Rex opens our door. My heart throbs like a migraine, but I smile through it and step out of the limousine onto the blood-Red Carpet. These are the things I will always remember:
-The brilliant evening sun.
-The roar of fans screaming from the bleachers.
-The van-size dice hanging above the theatre entrance.
-Flashbulbs going off like machinegun fire.
-A wave of weightlessness, as though I’m on the verge of floating up into the sky.
-Kara’s sweaty hand gripping mine as she steps out of the limo.
“Are we going, Jim? Why aren’t we moving?” I hear her, but I’m not ready to move yet. I’m looking down at the ground, at that beautiful Red Carpet beneath my mirror-black shoes. Have you ever stood on Red Carpet that’s been rolled out exclusively for you? It means you’re too important to walk on the pavement. Normal people can walk on pavement but not you. You’re better. You’re special. That’s the implication, and it feels so good.
No one can ever take this moment away from me.
I look up into the bleachers. Fans are waving and shouting my name. I smile the smuggest, coolest smile you’ve ever seen and wave back at them.
We begin to walk. The carpet ahead of us is crowded with Stars and normal people involved in the production of The Action.
“James, please! I love you!” This girl literally screams. She’s on the front row behind the metal railing, holding out a notepad. I walk toward her, and the crowd squeezes in, crushing her up against the bars.
“Could I have an autograph, Mr. Jansen?”
“Of course you can.” I release Kara’s hand and take the pen and pad. “What’s your name?”
“Bethany.”
I scribble down, “To Bethany, Love, James Jansen.”