Bruce Wagner - I Met Someone

“It did make me feel better. In a way. Or maybe it’s all the crying.”

“It’s just going to take time, Leggy,” he said, reverting to the seasoned Wise Man tone he used when shutting down the dreams of showbiz strivers. “I know it’s the worst cliché, but time will heal.”

Just now it felt insanely callous that he’d spent the entire day mulling over whether he should tell her about the surrogate. At dinner, after the grief support group no less!

She felt so close to Jeremy. She would have felt the same even if he disclosed his plan; it’d have hurt but Allegra would have understood. It was hard for her to imagine getting pregnant again. Losing a baby like that really did a number on your womanhood — you were raised with all these presumptions and expectations, that you were the cradle of life and propagator of the species, your whole sexual identity was inextricably bound up with fertility. When you didn’t pass muster, everything went to shit and got thrown into question. Just who and what were you? People adapted to pretty much anything and women who couldn’t bear children were no exception; Allegra knew her fair share of contented, barren ladies; over time, surrender came, often in the form of the gloating declaration that they’d never wanted kids in the first place. All the mushrooms and brujas in the world conferring eternal motherhood couldn’t get Allegra to believe it.

“What’s going on with Bunny?” he asked innocently.

“Nothin’. Jus’ chillin’.”

“How’s she doing with the Reina thing?”

“It’s heavy .”

“Ding Dong! The Witch is dead.”

“I think heavier than she likes to put out there, but she’s doin’ okay. I think she’s actually doing very well.” She longed to blab about Aurora but knew that if she did, it would come back to seriously bite her in the ass. “Man, it’s fuckin’ complicated , Jeremy. I know there’s relief there, for sure. But I think there’s also… I think she’s really, like, sad . I mean, she’d never admit to that, but they did that dance for such a long time.”

“For real. You get used to dancing with the devil and suddenly it’s, like, ‘Hey! Where’d the devil go? Where’s my devil, I want my devil!’”

“Right?”

“Was there a funeral? Why wasn’t I invited to the funeral?” he said, in mock outrage. Half a mock, because suddenly he was in a huff about maybe having been excluded from something.

“Nope— nothing . She wanted to be scattered at sea but Dusty overruled her and put her in the ground in Santa Paula!”

“Well, good for her .”

“But can we talk about something else? What are you up to?”

“Same old. Projects, bla. I might do something else with Megan. There’s a Xavier Dolan thing, but the script’s four hundred pages. Bla.”

“ Love Xavier. Love that little genius boy.”

“I’ll probably see Angelina when I’m in London.”

“When.”

“Whenever.”

“I didn’t know you knew Angelina.”

“For, like, a hundred years. And I’ve kind of been thinking of maybe directing again.”

“That is so awesome , Jeremy. A documentary?”

“Feature.”

“Oh!”

“I haven’t really figured it out yet. I’m circling. Circling the drain , probably. Hey, I read your script!”

“Oh my God .”

“It was excellent. Really , really good, Leggy.”

“Jeremy!” she squealed.

“I was kind of surprised.”

“Uhm, gee, thanks,” she harrumphed, still glowing.

“No, I mean, in the best way. Not that it was better than I thought it would be but that it definitely doesn’t read like a first-time script.”

“Jeremy, thank you . Oh my God, that is so nice . But did it make sense ? I mean, could you follow it? ’Cause I made some choices — I was worried people wouldn’t be able to follow it.”

“ Totally. You totally pulled it off, Allegra. That’s what was surprising and kind of amazing.”

They were in the middle of riffing about the next step — whether to focus on directors or actors, engaging in that style of spirited, pre-production élan favored by the town’s doers and dreamers — when a striking redhead strode up. They went blank.

“It’s Larissa!”

“Oh my God, hi!” said Allegra.

“How are you?” chimed Jeremy, with a convincing spin of authentic interest perfected by years of glancing industry social encounters with those who could do nothing for him.

“Really good!”

(The rejoinder being L.A. shorthand for making shitloads of money — a socially acceptable substitute for not being famous. Of course, etiquette required both parties to believe the assertion. In the moment, anyway.)

“Wasn’t that party so much fun?” said Jeremy.

“ So much fun,” said Larissa, eyes dilating Allegra’s way.

Jeremy’s naughtiness sensors beeped.

“Tuesday Weld,” said Allegra. “Oh. My. God.”

“I love her,” said Larissa. “And those stories . Elvis! Lenny Bruce!”

“What have you been up to?”

“ Working, writing , doing yoga …”

“We should all get together again,” said Jeremy, like some lame-o rapscallion.

With a caregiver’s concern, Larissa asked after Dusty. “I was so sorry to hear about her mom.”

“She’s good, and thank you,” said Allegra. “She’s totally doing well.”

“Say hi for me?”

“I will!”

“Well, I need to get back to my friend. I just wanted to come say hello!”

“I’m so glad you did!”

When she left, Jeremy said, “I think she’s really hot . You and Bunny tap that?”

“Are you serious?”

“That was kinda the vibe just now…”

“No way. She’s totally straight.”

“ No woman is totally straight. Which means you totally tapped that!”

“Totally didn’t .”

“Well, if you haven’t , you should . I didn’t know you and Bunny were even into that.”

He was fishing now.

“Would you shut the fuck up ? And what’s going on with you , romantically? How’s your little boyfriend? Did you get secretly married —”

“Are we deflecting ?”

“Come on, Jeremy, don’t be boring. Are you still seeing him?”

“Uh huh.”

“And?”

“I think I might be… in love .”

“Shut the front door.”

“Shut the front door? Who says that anymore?”

“You are so not in love.”

“I bought him a car,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh my God! You are ! If you bought him a car then you are .”

“He has… issues . But, oh my God, Leggy, it’s so tender . I just want to take care of him. And he’s brilliant —I mean, so much smarter than me. He reads, like, everything . He discourses on — he knows who Bergson is! And Thomas Bernhard! He fucking plays Gymnopédies on an old Casio ! He’s, like, smarter than Josh Cohen ! And he’s a total film snob, oh my God, Leg, he’s so much worse than I am! And he’s twenty-three! He’s twenty-three!”

“What’s his name?”

He paused, to mark the closeness of letting her in.

“Tristen.”

“ So beautiful,” she said. “I’m so happy for you!”

“And now I have to go . My friend is waiting for me at home.”