I loved driving, yes, but no one loved driving in this town. It was a chore to get to my dear friend's house, but when she called, I answered. When she asked, I came if I could.
It was a one-sided kind of friendship. I never called her, never asked or invited myself. But some friendships are just designed that way. It's unavoidable. A give and take that we need even if it's not what we want.
Some people are put into our lives at just the right moment. Of this I am certain.
And the why of it was this woman. Gina.
Gina was the kind of nice that made everyone around her uncomfortable. If I so much as mentioned a hardship I had suffered, even a casual one that was years old, her eyes would water as though it was a fresh wound. There was nothing I despised more than receiving someone else's pity. It literally made my skin crawl, but I knew that she couldn't help herself.
Eugene, her husband, was not much better. He was more in touch with his emotions than a Care Bear. And not in an annoying way. Well, not completely. He had a method of disarming that was rare. He brought out the soft side in everyone, asked just the question that let you know he was in tune with your mood. That he cared, that he felt.
He was one of those sensitive men that had more of a hard-on for Adele than Angelina.
I secretly loved that about him, and I tried my best to behave when I came over to visit. I kept the more acidic side of my tongue to myself.
Mostly.
They lived in a mansion in the hills. A dream house beyond even my overinflated dreams. They were both successful entertainment attorneys that came from money, and everything about their life was a bit of a fairytale, but that didn't make me jealous or covetous. Unworthy, perhaps, but never jealous.
No one deserved a perfect life more than they did.
They greeted me as a pair at the door when I arrived, opening it before I could knock. Gina pulled me into a tight, long hug. She was a short, heavy blonde woman with a pretty face and at least fifteen years on me, though I'd never been so ill mannered as to actually ask her age. "How are you, gorgeous?" she said, beaming as she let me loose.
"Hanging in there," I said with a rueful smile, my best version of looking at things on the bright side.
Eugene gave me a warm hug. He was a big man with a soft voice. "You've lost weight. Luckily I made pasta."
I tried not to groan in dismay. The last thing I needed was carbs. I fucking hated carbs. They made me feel bloated and sleepy. And fat. "Yum, my favorite," I said, trying, as always with them, to be a good sport.
"Had any interesting roles or auditions lately?" Gina asked politely as we stepped into the house. She was always very interested in my career, or lack thereof. She'd been the one to connect me with my agent, years ago.
My mood brightened slightly. "Actually, yes. I had an audition last week that felt like it went really well. I've got my fingers crossed."
She clutched her hands together, face brightening like I'd just made her day. "That's wonderful! What sort of a part is it?"
I shrugged. "It wasn't really clear. Some kind of a character role. I wasn't even sure if it was major or minor, but the director is Stuart Whently, so I'm pretty excited."
"Love his movies!" Gina exclaimed.
"We love his movies!" Eugene chimed at the same time.
I smiled nervously and found myself ringing my hands. "Well, cross your fingers. He was at my audition—it was a call back—and we actually hit it off pretty well. He said some nice things to me and it felt like, I don't know, like he at least wanted to hire me."
"That's awesome!"
"Brilliant!"
I smiled ruefully. I imagined that this was what it felt like to have your mother compliment you. I appreciated it, even if it didn't mean anything. But even so, I felt better, enough so to elaborate. "He said I had defining characteristics. That I would give the movie panache. Like I said, it felt like we hit it off."
They overreacted.
Eugene made me give him a high five as he congratulated me as if I already had the part. Like I even knew what the part was.
Gina put both hands to her cheeks and teared up.
It made me feel silly, like I'd overstated things, even though I had actually understated them.
These people were way too nice to me. It made me so uncomfortable that I felt awkward in my own skin.
I tried not to let it show and allowed them to fawn over me.
We went straight to the dining room. I was just in time, and I knew that they'd have dinner ready. They were always very prompt, never taking too much of my time when we had these dinners. It was ironic that they valued my time when they were both worth much more per hour than I was.
But they did value it, I knew. I was equal parts flattered and baffled by that.
Their daughter, Mercy, was already in the dining room. They had a house that was elegant and extravagant enough to have come straight out of a magazine, but they let their precious little girl have the run of it. Currently she was finger painting on a child-sized easel, her colored fingers dripping generously onto their expensive marble floor.