Chapter Two
1482 Words
Chapter Two
I can’t believe it. I feel like an a*s. Here I am, literally blubbering about my life to a friend I haven’t spoken to since high school. I was so thrilled at someone not knowing the baggage in my life. Yet for some reason Kathy asking me how I am doing and realizing I can tell someone who was on the outside about what I had gone through was enough for me to spill my guts.
I spew up the entire story. Kiara. Working as a server. Being with Paul and Robbs. Losing my baby and what Robbs did. By the time I finish, the ice in my coffee has melted, making it undrinkable. Some people are glancing over at me, as if trying to figure out why a woman is crying in the middle of the coffee shop.
To Kathy’s credit, she didn’t once look overwhelmed or put off by my sudden emotional outburst. She lets me talk without interrupting or getting up and walking off. How much of that is due to being polite and how much of that is because of how much she cares, I don’t know. All I know is when I finally finish my tale of woe, I feel as if a giant bubble has burst inside of me. The bubble of negativity that I have been holding inside of me for what felt like ages is now gone.
However, I feel mortified. I can’t believe I just blurted everything out to someone who is practically a stranger. I rub my eyes swiftly to stop more tears from coming.
“I am so sorry,” I say, taking in a shuddering breath. “Oh my god, this is so... I can’t believe... I’m so sorry.” I bury my face into my hands and try to calm my sobbing.
But Kathy shakes her head, her brown eyes wide with concern. “No, Jenny, it’s okay. You needed to talk. To really talk, by the looks of it. And what you told me – what you’ve gone through – makes my last rough period look like a vacation.”
I feel ashamed. The last thing I want to do is trivialize anything someone else has gone through with my own bullshit. I open my mouth to say as much but Kathy speaks first.
“Listen, I need a roommate. I have the apartment I want all set up, but I can only live alone for about three months before I run out of savings. I was going to look for a roommate once I got to Hollywood, but why don’t you come with me?”
I freeze. What she is suggesting is the last thing I expected her to say.
“No, no,” I reply, shaking my head. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Why not?” Kathy presses. “You said yourself that there’s nothing left for you here. That’s how I feel about living here too. Plus the amount of money I was spending on flying to Hollywood and back was stupid. Two different worlds, remember? That’s what’s going on with you, too. You have a world where you’re stuck in the past and a new one that I’m offering you. Come to Hollywood. Experience the world with me. You said yourself you don’t want to be a chef anymore, so come on.”
I suddenly feel in over my head. This all sounds too good to be true. I stand up suddenly, wanting nothing more than to get out of here.
“I need to go. Let me think about it, okay? When do you leave?”
“This Friday. Let me give you my number.”
I log her number into my phone and then bolt, giving her a quick wave. Once I get back outside, the cold air smacks me in the face. I feel stupid for blurting everything out like that. There is no way Kathy could honestly mean for me to come with her, right? But as I get in my car, I remember the look on her face when she asked me. She truly did mean it.
But should I take her up on it?
>>
That evening, the snow kicks up. The threatening gray skies finally open up. The white flakes come down heavily, covering everything like a blanket as I curl up on the couch watching TV. For the first time in ages, I make hot chocolate and do several loads of laundry. That, plus the grocery shopping and my conversation with Kathy, means this day has been one of the most productive I have had in ages.
It could be because the entire time I have been thinking about what Kathy has offered - moving to Hollywood. What would I do there? Wait on tables yet again? I don’t want to get back in the same business, but my experience in other areas is lacking.
But haven’t I been wishing about packing up and going where no one knows who I am? And now I have the option but I’m stumbling. I am stalling and trying to find a reason to say no. Kathy is right. I am afraid of moving forward. That and the thought of my dwindling savings makes me call her later that evening before bed.
“Did I wake you?” I blurt out before Kathy can even fully answer “Hello?”. I cringe to myself at how I seem to have lost all proper manners lately.
“No, I’m usually up super late. What’s up?”
“I was thinking... about your offer... the one to move to Hollywood.” I am stalling, suddenly feeling unsure again.
“Listen, I know it was a lot to spring on you. I get like that sometimes, just so full of crazy ideas that I spew them out without thinking them all the way through. Of course you have a life here that you need to tend to. It’d be insane to expect you to just drop everything and go.”
My heart falls. Is she retracting her offer? I suddenly realize that I want to go. That is what I truly want. Anything else is the fear talking, trying to hold me back in my depressive slump that I call my life.
“But,” Kathy goes on, oblivious to my inner dialogue, “I still think you should consider it. I can give you the number to my old agent. He’s excellent, but he had to drop off some clients because of a family emergency. I volunteered to be one and then just hopped to another agent he recommended because I didn’t feel like waiting. I just don’t want you to think I’m giving you someone shitty.”
“An agent?” I reply, stumbling over my words. “Why would I need an agent?”
“You don’t want to go after the dream of being a chef anymore. So why not try getting into show business?”
I swallow my laughter. I know Kathy is being serious. I don’t want to seem as if I am pissing all over her idea. But honestly - acting? How can she be serious? I don’t know the first thing about acting. I have a mental image of me in a commercial for a feminine hygiene product, jumping into the air to hit a volleyball or strolling along the beach, a big smile plastered on my face because of my brand of tampon.
“Kathy, I don’t think I need an agent.” I hope I don’t sound like that was the craziest idea I have ever heard.
“You won’t get anywhere without an agent, Jenny, trust me. Anyone who doesn’t have one is filming low budget horror movies in ten-minute segments ‘cause they can’t afford filming permits anywhere.” Something in her tone makes me think that she has had experience in this as she goes on. “Anyway, Jon is great. I’ll give you his number.”
“No, Kathy, I mean that I don’t think acting is for me. I don’t know the first thing about acting. I’ve never done that for a second in my life.”
“Oh. Well listen, it could be a talent you don’t even know you have! Think of it as an adventure!”
An adventure. I allow the words to sink into my head. If I am going to Hollywood, then why not go all the way? I have been slumping around here, fending off panic attacks over happy children and thinking about Robbs and Paul. I need to reinvent myself desperately. And even if acting turns out not to be my thing, it’s Hollywood. I can find something else to do.
“Okay,” I say. “Sounds good. Let’s do this.”
Kathy squeals, sounding relieved at having found a roommate already. “Great! That’s great! I’ll text you the information for the place I’m renting. I’ll be leaving before you, but that’s okay. I’ll get everything set up. You just get things wrapped up on your end.”
We talk a little more before I hang up the phone. I suddenly feel exhausted. Was it really this morning I had woken up, using baby steps to get myself into the shower? Now I’m moving to Hollywood. I look out the window.
Everything is going to change. Am I ready to reinvent myself?
- Writer
