Page 24 of Flowers To Give

“What?”

Jeremy shrugs, unable to meet Clark’s eye, “I always thought her performance was flat in that movie. No chemistry between you two.”

“You’ve seen it?” Clark grins, voice lilted.

Jeremy readjusts in his seat, clearing his throat, “Didn’t everybody?”

Clark drinks more, squinting his eyes as he leans forward and asks, “What other movies have you seen of mine?”

Being cornered out of nowhere, Jeremy sweats as he’s caught off guard. Shrugging, he navigates out of telling the truth by offering, “Crude Nights is my favorite.”

“Woah. Deep cut,” Clark chuckles, sitting back and absorbing that answer, “That was, like, my first real movie.”

“You really sent it in that one.”

Clark touches his chest, offended, “Are you saying I don’t always?”

“It’s different,” Jeremy shrugs.

“Hm,” Clark thinks, sipping on his cigar and whiskey in each hand. He looks off and admits, “I got to have a lot of creative freedom over my characters back then.”

“What about the character that you’re doing for this movie? Ferdinand.”

Clark sighs deeply, “Reverse Tarzan, huh?”

Jeremy scrunches his brow.

“I can’t stop thinking of that,” Clark shakes his head, “This is more of the same. You won’t believe how many movies I turn down that are just remakes and sequels of bygone franchises. I thought this one was different, a love felt romance with action! But no. It’s fuckin’ reverse Tarzan.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Jeremy attempts to salvage some optimism, this gloomy version of Clark making him inexplicably sad, “Tarzan was never on horseback.”

Clark smiles, then chuckles before laughing heartily. He roughly clanks his glass against Jeremy’s and says, “You know what? You’re right! And this isn’t a Disney production, I’m getting down and dirty in this!”

“To reverse Tarzan with horses and sex,” Jeremy raises his glass once more.

Clark can get behind that, hitting his glass hard against Jeremy’s again before slamming it down on the table and then up to his mouth. Jeremy’s amused by the eccentric movements, laughing and patting his pocket for his case of cigarettes. Getting out a stogie, he turns to Clark and asks, “Do you have a light?”

Handing him a zippo, Jeremy balks, “Hey! This is mine.”

“Didn’t you give it to me?” Clark smiles.

“Uh, no. I didn’t,” Jeremy says matter of factly, lighting his cigarette and putting the zippo on the table.

“Well, I’ve been taking care of it, haven’t I?” Clark asks, blowing smoke up to the dusk sky.

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh, this is the whole hermit crab fiasco all over again,” Clark rolls his eyes, bringing up an instance in the second grade where Jeremy got a pet hermit crab as a souvenir from the lake and gave it to Clark but then wanted to take it back.

“That’s completely different,” Jeremy points out, “That was a case of you using your powers of persuasion for evil.”

“Or, is it a case of you being gullible?”

They go back and forth, talking about their childhood as if the memories are sailing away, dwindling on the horizon. The sun sinks below the ocean and the patio lights kick on as they continue picking at the food, smoking, and drinking. They polish off one handle of whiskey, Clark convincing the drunken Jeremy to come inside for another.

“Oh! I wanted to show you something!” Clark slurs, stumbling into the main room. He goes over to a grand piano at the back of the room, leaning against it and clasping his hands together to plead, “Please, will you play something for me?”

Jeremy sips at his refreshed drink, just tipsy enough to feel tempted. He warns Clark though, “I don’t know, I’m pretty rusty.”