Page 69 of Vera Stein Is Fine
“It’s called an annulment,” I told her.
Brody bobbed his head to the music as he drained the rest of the second bottle. He seemed to think my fate was determined and now it was simply a matter of time.
“Unless you think it’s going to be some kind of scandal for you,” Vera said softly, worrying on her lower lip. I wondered if anyone had ever nipped at those lips before. “I’m definitely not the kind of girl that people like your parents approve of.” Her words ran together, the champagne doing its work. “Wouldn’t want to piss off Daddy.”
Was that really what she thought? That the only holdup here was the fear of shame? I leaned forward across the back of the limo to knock on the divider and the driver slid the glass open. “Take us to the nearest wedding chapel.”
“My babies are getting married!” Brody howled as he rolled down the window. “I’m a proud mama!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
After the coldest shower I could handle, taking Marlon for a short walk, and downing two cups of coffee, I set off to the main building, where Leonard was already waiting outside of one of the meeting rooms to host his bimonthly writing workshop.
He sat perched on the little stool that popped out of this particular cane he sometimes used. “I thought you forgot about me.”
“I could never,” I said as I speed-walked past him to open the door. “I’m going to grab the coffee and pastries,” I added as he ambled inside.
When I returned with the cart from the cafeteria, I parked it in the corner of the room and helped him place at every seat character questionnaires that he’d asked me to print.
“Did you see the pamphlet I left in your mailbox?” I asked as we sat down, waiting for residents to trickle in—hopefully. When I’d gone through all the activity attendance records for the last year, I’d noticed that attendance had dwindled over the last few months, which was technically fine since this was a resident-led activity and not planned by me. But I felt bad for Leonard.
“I did,” he said thoughtfully. “Seems like a lot of trouble to go to just to have your ego stroked.”
“I think a living funeral could be great, actually.” Even if it sounded a little bit like my own personal nightmare. “You’ve already done all the planning,” I said as I tore at the edge of my pain au chocolat. “You couldhave the best of both worlds. The funeral you’ve spent so much time planning and then, when the time really comes, your green burial.”
Leonard held his hand to his ear like he was on the phone. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “My service is awful.”
Just then an orderly wheeled in a woman from one of the assisted-care floors. Her eyes were far away and glassy.
“This is Wendy,” the orderly said loudly, but the woman didn’t flinch. “Her grandson said she worked in the writers’ room onStar Trekand I thought she might like to sit in on this. I’ll be back in an hour. Ring the patient care station on floor four if you need any help with her.”
“Sure,” I said with a nod. “Hi, Wendy. Thanks for joining us today.”
Her vacant gaze held steady, and her hands lay in her lap like she was a doll that had been posed.
“Long time no see, Wendy,” Leonard said, and I could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.
“You two know each other?”
“Small town, right, Wendy?” He winked at her.
The woman’s lips twitched.
I liked having the assisted-care residents come down for activities, but I hoped someone else would show up, because I couldn’t leave Leonard here to lead a workshop for a nonverbal woman who might require additional help.
I checked the time on my phone. The program started six minutes ago and it was still only the three of us.
I’d managed to avoid Leonard’s writing workshops up until now, but it seemed that my streak ended here. Maybe this would give me a reprieve from the next few meetings, and, besides, my brain needed a distraction, because currently it was a horny wasteland.
With a sigh, I rolled my chair up to the table. “Well, what’s on the docket today, Leonard?”
His eyes brightened a little as he realized that after his many invitations, I was finally sitting in on his workshop.
He cleared his throat. “Well, today, we’re diving into character. For some writers, the story starts with the pitch or the plot and then for some, it starts with the character. Whichever approach you take, both elements are necessary. Take a go at this character survey to start cooking with grease. I wrote it myself and used it for nearly forty years.”
I stared down at the page of questions. Many of them were basic, like name, age, location, and hobbies. But some asked you to dig a little deeper.What’s hiding under your character’s bed? If they could have dinner with any dead person, who would they choose?
Wendy watched the window but seemed to be happy enough where she was, so without any remaining excuses, I focused on the page in front of me.
