Sienna whispered, “They slept together at my wedding.”
“We didn’t sleep together!” I groaned. “I mean, yes, we fell asleep. Together. But we didn’t have sex.”
“Then how do you know how long his tongue is?” Charlotte sounded honestly curious.
“Because—ahh! Don’t make me talk about this. Please don’t. I—I don’t want to.”
“I’m beginning to think she has feelings for him,” Sienna whispered again. “Deep feelings.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said, then paused like she was thinking matters over. “Ohhhhh! But what about Harrison?”
“Harrison and I aren’t really together.” Great, Rae. Tell everyone why dontcha? “So that part was true. My relationship with Harrison is toxic, it just also happens to be fake. And it’s not what you think about Jackson.” I sat up, mentally imploring Charlotte not to hate me. “Jackson and I were together—we spent time together—just the one night. I liked him so much. He was just so polite. And patient. And he actually asked me what I wanted. And he asked questions and listened.”
“See, those are the things I wasn’t attracted to.” She shook her head, giving me a sympathetic look. “If I wanted warm affection, I’d get a dog.”
“Except, it didn’t feel warm. Things between us, they felt hot. Even now, every time he looks at me, I feel like I might combust. Or melt. Or evaporate.”
“Nice dialogue, Rae. You should write that down. We should write a script.” Sienna nodded toward me before taking a drink of her water.
Meanwhile, Charlotte was shaking her head, her lips twisted to the side. “Nope. Not me. I think once, we might’ve almost approached tepid? That’s the closest we got to hot. So—” Charlotte set her chin on her palm, her gaze wide and interested “—what happened next?”
“And then I left. And we didn’t talk. We didn’t keep in touch at all,” I said, the words just as sad as I felt. “But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.”
“For five and a half years?” Her eyebrows flew up. “You’ve been pining for Jackson James for five and a half years?”
“Yes?” I balled my hands into fists.
“Well. Good Lord. That’s a long time.” Charlotte looked to Sienna, clearly wanting to confirm if her assessment of the situation was accurate.
“But I didn’t really know him, did I? He was this—this idea of a guy. Someone who treated me well and didn’t seem to want anything from me except to make me feel good.”
“He made her feel good,” Sienna said, her smile small wistful. Then she stood suddenly. “Just a sec, I need to go check on Jet. I’ll be right back.”
We watched her go, leaving through the kitchen door that led to the living room. Charlotte turned back to me, and I met her gaze, still sending her mental requests not to hate my guts.
“Oh, honey. Relax. I’m not mad at you.”
“You’re not? Because if I were you, I’d want to impale me with a butter knife.”
She chuckled, picking up her wine and taking a sip. “No. Like I said, Jackson and I weren’t suited.” She paused, her eyes drifting over my shoulder. “Maybe when he was younger. He was fun then. Although, he wasn’t looking for anything long term in those days. But I guess, neither was I.”
“You weren’t?”
“No. But I got pregnant. Pregnant girls get married around here. Or at least in my family, twelve years ago, that’s what happened. I married the guy, got pregnant three more times, and he left me, and that is that.”
I wondered at Charlotte and the way she matter-of-factly recounted her past, like she was sharing a recipe rather than painful details.
My mother couldn’t talk about her past with my father. Just thinking about him made her irrationally angry. I cringed, thinking about our call earlier in the day, and shied away from the memory again. I wasn’t ready to think about that yet.
But I did wonder why Charlotte could be so pragmatic and dispassionate about her ex, whereas my mother could not. Maybe the failure of Charlotte’s marriage had played a part? My mother hadn’t married my father. She’d rejected his proposal, not even when her family threatened to cut her off completely would she agree. She’d wanted to live her life on her own terms.
And so she has. . . Huh.
One of the things I loved so much about acting was the potential to inhabit two completely different characters reacting to the same situation. Both Charlotte and my mother had become pregnant unexpectedly. How they’d reacted to it, the choices they’d made, spoke volumes about who they were. I couldn’t say one reaction was better or more valid than the other.
They were simply choices. And those choices ended up defining a life.
I want to be Charlotte’s friend.
“What?” Her eyes cut to me and then away. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Ask her.
Can it be that easy?
You asked Jackson for a night together and he gave you a kiss you will treasure until the end of your days. Ask for what you want, Rae.
“Charlotte.” I reached for her hand. “I want us to be friends. I don’t have many friends. I’m not great at making friends. I don’t want to pretend with you. Will you be my friend?”
“Of course.” She turned her hand palm up and squeezed mine. “I thought we were friends. Or starting to be.”
I huffed out a grateful breath, leaning closer to her. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being wonderful. And real.”
“Honey, I don’t know how else to be.”
I chuckled, and so did she, and that’s how Sienna found us, gazing into each other’s eyes with mutual like.
“Oh no. Does this mean you, Charlotte, and Jackson are having a three-way?”
“Ew!” Charlotte wrinkled her nose, but then her eyes narrowed. “Now wait a minute—”
Both Sienna and I busted out laughing, and I knew my face had turned bright red.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s not you, it’s me,” Charlotte said, not quite making eye contact, and—unbelievably—her cheeks had turned a little pink. “A three-way is too many arms and legs. It would remind me too much of playing Twister with my kids. What I want, what I need, is someone’s undivided attention.”
“Here, here!” Sienna raised her glass of water, clinking it against Charlotte’s wine. “I’m starting to feel similarly about working with these big studios. It’s like, someone is getting fucked, and it feels like it’s always me.”
“Oh no. What happened?” I straightened in my seat.
“I just got a text that Paratune Studios pulled out. See? It even sounds like a shitty three-way. Anyway, they pulled out, and now I have to find a new home for my next script.”
“You should just start your own studio, Sienna.” Charlotte took a gulp of her wine.
Sienna snorted. “I know, right? Then I wouldn’t have to deal with making films by committee. That sounds like heaven.”
“How would that even work?” Charlotte leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Do you need a license?”