Authors: Elizabeth Amelia Barrington
CHAPTER SIX
TEEN
The morning following John's arrival, he telephoned the cottage to schedule a visit, and I answered the phone. He offered to bring drinks from Starbucks.
"Oh, don'
t bother--we've got coffee. When were you thinking of coming?"
"Well
--right now."
I
looked at the clock. Almost eleven a.m. Very late in the day for John Edwards. "Well, give us fifteen minutes and then come on over. Okay?"
I
wanted Mom to meet John and seated her comfortably in an overstuffed chair in the living room, while I placed some cookies on the coffee table. I remembered he liked cream but no sugar. Finally, he knocked on the door, and I introduced him to Mom. Once they were seated and having coffee, small talk ensued.
It appeared to
me that John seemed to be trying to understand something. He looked around the room, a serious and thoughtful expression on his face.
"Well, I thought I would drop by so that I could meet you
, Liz. I understand you have been under the weather lately."
"Well, ye
s, I have, but I'm feeling well today, thank you."
Always restless
and full of energy, John stood and walked over to look at a glass-covered bookcase and then resumed his seat.
"Do you enjoy living here in the cottage, as Frank calls it?"
Liz answered. "Yes, we really do. It has a comfortable, old-fashioned feeling to it that we like, plus we're both partial to antiques."
"Yes, it is an amazing little place
. My wife was also very interested in antiques. She passed away last year."
"I'm
very sorry to hear that. Were you together a long time?"
"Yes, over twenty years."
"Well, you must really miss her then, if you were together so long."
"I do, but I have begun to put it in the past.
" Since his arrival, his eyes seemed to be drawn towards me. I had had the experience with men many times, but it never ceased to unnerve me.
"I was wondering if you two would be interested in
going out to dinner with me tomorrow night."
He suddenly had
my complete attention. I weighed what he said and tried to understand his motives.
Liz said, "Well, I really couldn't
. I have to conserve my energy. But, Vicky might be interested." She bent toward the task of readjusting the wool throw on her lap.
The ensuing silence in the room was palpable
. After several moments, John began to improvise, "Matt and I thought that since you two are Portland natives you could fill us in on things to do here and the best places to eat. Plus, he's anxious to get out of the house."
My
heart thudded so loudly in my ears, I couldn't think. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I felt tongue-tied. I tried to smile. "That is, well, wonderful of you to think of me. Thank you. I have a couple of ideas of where we could go, but do you want classy or
fun
?" I made it clear which choice I favored.
John laughed
. "Okay, let's go to a fun place. What did you have in mind?"
"A little place called Esparza's."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
That Friday evening I was to meet John and Matt at the restaurant. When I walked in, I found John sitting at a booth. I noticed the table was set for two diners.
"Matt couldn't come.
He got stuck on a long-distance call. But, he might be able to come later, and in any case I'm ordering a dinner for him."
I
felt panicked, like a trapped animal. I couldn't think of any reason such an important man would be interested in me other than a wish to have a quick sexual encounter.
"We could just or
der takeout and return to the house."
John's voice became very gentle
. "Yes, we could do that. If that is your wish, then that is exactly what we will do. But, to be honest with you, I wanted to speak to you alone about something. Is that all right?"
"I
guess it's all right. It depends on what you want to talk to me about." I took my seat with care as if entering a tiger's lair. He seemed kind, but then so had Frank. The waiter came and took our drink orders, white wine for John and iced tea for me.
"I feel as if I'm getting into things that are none of my business, so just interrupt me at any time,
if you feel the conversation is inappropriate, and we will speak of something else entirely. All right?" I nodded, feeling serious and guarded.
"Frank tells me that your mother is being treated for a very serious illness and that he is paying for all of her medical expenses
? Is that true?"
I
nodded. "Yes. It's true."
John sat in silence for a few moments, as the frown line between his eyes deepened
. His eyes looked troubled. "You know that puts you in a situation where you owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude. Well, what I'm getting at is that you seem to be a very unusual young woman--unusual in every way. You're beautiful and intelligent. Beauty is not as uncommon as people think; beauty and intelligence together are exceptional but still more common than is generally thought. I can tell you that from years of experience in the film industry. You have a third trait that
is
very uncommon, especially in beautiful women. You're kind. You're not planning to base your life solely upon what you can get by using you're looks, and some people will try to make that hard for you--like Frank, for instance."
I
looked at him, and felt a sudden fit of impatience. At that moment, I didn't care how important he was. I just lost it. "I know all that. Don't you think I know it? But, what can I do?"
"Do
nothing.
He hasn't said this to me in so many words, but I gather Frank thinks he has you in a bind. Let him think that. Let your mother's illness run its course and then leave. Sorry to be so blunt about a subject that is close to your heart. But, what I mean is: take a waiting attitude for now and then leave. Leave the cottage and the job. You're better off without those perks. And there's something I want you to know. If this situation with Frank gets out of hand, or if you ever need anything, you have a friend." He pulled out a business card and wrote on the back. "I've written my assistant's cell phone number, and he always knows where I am. You can call me anytime, day or night."
"And, I have some, I hope, interesting
news for you. I'd like you to come visit the set of the film I'm making here in Portland. There's a scene that I want you to watch, to see if it really rings true. Would you be willing to do that?"
"Of course, i
t sounds great."
"
You may read a copy of the entire script if you like. I can have my assistant give it to you. Would you mind stepping outside with me while I have a smoke before we eat?"
We
walked outside of the restaurant and over to the corner. A breeze rustled through the leaves of the nearby trees and gently moved twigs and leaves in the center of the intersection in a small whirlwind. In spite of the wind, John expertly cupped his hand and lit his cigarette on the first try. A few pedestrians and bicyclists occupied the sidewalk and the roadway. In the twilight of evening, his good-looking face and powerful physique took on an air of mystery. Standing there in his elegant trench coat and shoes, he inhaled cigarette smoke as if it were pure oxygen.
"You look more like a
star in one of your movies than the director. Have you ever thought of acting?"
John looke
d down at the ground, as if he saw another world living in the sidewalk. "Yes, I thought of it, briefly. Actually, you know, the idea scared me a little. I've always lived in my own fantasy world, with my head full of stories, as it is. I almost felt that if I went over to that side of the camera, I might never come back. The characters in my films are very real to me."
Then, he looked
directly at me. "The main thing is, I like to have more of a say in the creative process. I know actors like to think they do, saying things like 'this line just doesn't work for me,' and then putting up a fuss until it's changed. But, in fact, the director takes hold of the creative process long before the actors become involved. I enjoy working with the writer and making sure I understand his or her vision. Then, of course, I've written many of the screenplays for my movies. I like being the director."
After, they had
reentered the restaurant and ordered their meals, John began talking about the movie. "The screenplay is a seriocomic takeoff on the current interest in the television show
Portlandia.
Vignettes of Portland characters have been pieced together. The scene you will watch is a satire of a vegetarian woman who claims to care about all creation, but in reality is not a very kind or considerate person. You'll see when you watch it. It's very funny, if you like black humor, that is. It's the shortest scene in the movie."
"I do like black humor
. And I think this is a very topical subject right now. But besides poking fun of some Portlanders, it could also raise some interesting questions."
"Such as?"
"Well, I don't want to bore you."
"
Vicky, I come from a planet where everyone talks about movies. Only movies. I would welcome a discussion about something else."
"Well, just remember, you asked for it."
"Okay. Shoot."
"Well, the subject of really caring about people and the planet is an interest
ing one to me. In many areas, whether it is politics, religion, business or whatever, people may say they have an idealistic goal. Let's use a movie as an example. A movie may be made in order to highlight some social injustice. But then, the way the movie is made is unjust. The extras may be ill-treated for example. This type of thing is repeated in many places, not just the movies."
"So what's the answer, then?"
"I don't know, yet. The only times I can think of that the problem was completely surmounted was when the earliest saints of the church left society and went to fast and pray in the desert. Tradition says that they lived in harmony with nature and that wild animals approached them to be blessed. Later, of course, others came to learn from them, the monasteries and convents came into being, and they had to be continually reformed and reinvented."
"How long have you been studying
all this?"
"A couple of years
. There is a library at Mt. Angel Monastery that I go to, when I can get there."
By this time, the
y were eating their meals. John paused, fork in hand to study me. "You know, you have extremely unusual interests for such a young woman."
"Yes, I know
. I don't know whatever possessed me to talk about it with you. I haven't mentioned my interests to anyone except my mother."
"You are a visionary of sorts
. I feel honored that you felt you could share your thoughts with me. And, as I said, it is great to talk with someone about something other than movies. You're even brighter than I thought. Did you skip a grade or two?"
"There was talk about that a couple of times, but my mother felt that if I skipped grades, it would stunt my social growth. Besides I wanted to stay in school with my friends, especially in high school." I felt embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry--I can't believe I am sitting here with a famous director babbling about the desert fathers and mothers. Or that you have the patience to listen."
"When I was a young man, I wanted to be a priest
. I entered the seminary. Your thoughts and ideas are not totally foreign to me."
"That's not
exactly on Wikipedia. What happened?"
"
No, it's not well-known, and I'd appreciate it if you kept it that way. I came to realize that my interests were too broad for me to make a good parish priest. I was not a good fit. So, I had to leave my first love, as is so often the case in life."
"Have you ever regretted your decision?"
"No, never. Although I do sometimes become weary of 'Hollywood.'" On the word "Hollywood," John put imaginary quotes in the air.
"I can see how it could be wearying, but I'm a film buff
. It'ss my secret vice." I laughed. "I could not imagine a world without the classic films like
Grapes of Wrath
or
All About Eve
to be honest with you."
"Excellent choices.
"
After they had finished their meals while chatting, John placed his knife and fork across his plate and dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin
. "So, to summarize: You have my card and will call me if ever the need arises?"
I
nodded.
"All right
. It's agreed. "John looked at his watch." I have to get going. It's been a pleasure."