Anna K Page 24
“God, I love you, beauties.” Beatrice blew them a kiss and continued. “Number five: we met at a Little League game when he came up to me and said, ‘Your cousin was too embarrassed to tell you this but you’ve got birdshit in your hair.’”
Now Anna chimed in, “That’s got to be Murf!”
“Correct! You guys are too good at this game!” Bea laughed.
“No fair,” Murf said. “That clue was way too easy!”
“My apologies, Murf,” Beatrice said. “I may be perfect but I’m not infallible … Number six! We met at a Bergdorf shoe sale, when we were both holding the same shoe and we had the same size feet. Lucky for us they had two pairs left so we both got them, otherwise we’d both have matching scars.”
“Lolly!” Steven called out.
“Steven!” Lolly nudged her boyfriend. “You’re not supposed to…”
“What?” Steven said. “You’re not me!”
“All’s fair in love and guessing games,” Beatrice quipped. “Number seven: we met at the ‘kids’ table’ at Chelsea Clinton’s wedding. After we ate all the chicken fingers we stole a bottle of champagne from the bar and got drunk by the pool. Hint: I wasn’t the one who threw up in the shallow end.”
The twins, Addison and Benjamin, broke out in a tandem laugh, giving away the answer.
“Addison was so hungover the next day, I got the headache!” Benjamin said.
“Okay, number eight!” Beatrice kept the game rolling. “We met because our superficial mothers dragged us to Canyon Ranch instead of Disneyland.”
“Brayton!” Adaka said. “Everyone knows your moms are joined at the hip…”
“Number nine!” Beatrice said. “We met backstage at a Justin Bieber concert. We broke in and stole a pair of his boxer briefs from his dressing room, which we now FedEx back and forth like the Sisterhood of the Traveling Underpants.”
“Process of elimination,” Vronsky said. “Must be Olivia and Livingston.”
“Speaking of,” Olivia said. “Keep an eye out for a FedEx package in the next couple days.”
Livingston smirked and said, “Every time I wear them to bed, I have a Bieber sex dream.”
“TMI, Livi,” Olivia said to her cousin.
“Oh don’t be such a prude, Olivia,” Livingston said.
“Number ten! We met when I drunkenly grabbed his dick and he politely informed me that we weren’t playing on the same team, and he told me that if I angled the arch in my eyebrows differently it’d really make my eyes pop.”
DandyZ took a sip of champagne, stood up, and curtsied. “Guilty as charged.”
“Number eleven!” Bea said. “We met at a sandbox in the Hamptons when we were five years old. She showed up with the bucket and I showed up with a shovel.”
“My sister, Anna!” Steven said. “I was there, too. I destroyed their sand castle and sent them both running off, crying!”
“Yes you did, you big meanie,” Anna joked.
Bea made a face. “That was number twelve. Steven destroying our sand castle. But you do remember he got in trouble and we got banana splits from the snack bar. Game over!”
Everyone cheered and toasted Beatrice, to which she raised her glass and told them it was time to go around the table and say something nice about her.
“Oh come on, Beatrice, don’t make liars out of us!” At this, everyone roared with laughter and after that, the entire meal was punctuated with delighted banter and the clink of champagne flutes filled with Veuve Clicquot.
The mood was set for one hell of a night.
XXII
After Anna checked out Lolly and Steven’s swanky sixties-themed room, she walked down the hallway to her room, her Louis Vuitton suitcase rolling behind her. She was lost in thought trying to decide which costume she was going to wear. She had narrowed it down to three different ideas: black leather pants, a black shiny latex bustier, sunglasses, and slicked-back hair in the vein of Trinity from The Matrix; a platinum-blond wig, black silk slip dress, and a white mini trench coat with stiletto boots, à la Atomic Blonde; Mrs. Smith from the Angelina/Brad Pitt movie, for which she would wear one of her dad’s white button-down dress shirts and a pair of knee-high red Wellington boots. Each of them was distinctive, and she was very much in the mood to channel a cool ass-kicking movie heroine who didn’t take an ounce of shit from anyone.
When she reached the last door at the end of the hall she found Vronsky leaning against the wall, waiting for her.
“Hey you,” Vronsky said. “Just making sure you didn’t get lost.”
Anna held up the map that Beatrice had drawn for her on a cocktail napkin. “I’ve got a map,” she said, immediately on guard. “Though I’ve never needed one in a private residence before. This house is insane.”
“Yeah,” he conceded. “Kiril, Bea, and I used to play hide-and-seek but we would never find each other, so it wasn’t much fun. Can I show you around your room? I told Bea she should put you here. It’s my personal favorite.”
Anna nodded as Vronsky opened the door and held it so she could go in ahead of him. Anna entered the room and looked around at the over-the-top, yet still tasteful eighties décor. There was a lot of bright neon, and she loved it immediately. Vronsky followed her in, careful not to let the door close for fear of seeming less of a gentleman.
“I wouldn’t take you for a guy who’s into eighties music,” Anna said. She started to lift her suitcase to place it on the king-size bed that was covered in a shiny satin hot-pink bedspread, but Vronsky rushed over and helped her. “It’s not heavy, I got it.”
Getting the hint, he took two steps back. “Sorry. I’m just happy you’re here, that’s all.”
Anna didn’t respond, mainly because the only thing she could say that wasn’t a lie was that she was happy to see him, too. She had just had one of the most fun dinners of her life. During the meal, she kept wondering if she had wasted years being with Alexander, because with him, meals were totally different. All Alexander and his friends talked about was schoolwork, politics, and the environment. Her boyfriend was very active when it came to environmental issues and political activism. But tonight’s dinner conversation was more about art, creative pursuits, fashion, and celebrity gossip, which she knew her bf would have found frivolous and lowbrow. I’m only seventeen … isn’t it my time to be silly?
“Anna?” Vronsky said, interrupting her thoughts. “Earth to Anna, come in, come in.”
Anna laughed, embarrassed to have spaced out in front of Vronsky. “Sorry. I’m just not used to this kind of party. It’s like we’re all playing dress-up in some crazy castle. Dinner was so, so…” She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a wide-eyed simpleton in front of him. “It was just so fun. I loved it. Beatrice is incredible.”
“That she is,” he replied. Vronsky was now sitting on the bed. “She’s like Vegas: all fun, all the time. But you’ve got to know when to leave, or you’ll end up in rehab or the subject of a true-crime podcast.”
All Anna wanted to do was take a running leap and flop down onto the bed next to Vronsky, but she knew she couldn’t. That’s the kind of thing one did with a boyfriend, and she already had one of those. She wasn’t sure what her next move should be.
“Should I leave?” Vronsky stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her bedspread.
“No!” she cried. “I just … don’t know what I’m going to wear tonight. Any interest in judging a costume fashion show?” She was tired of worrying so much about what was proper and what was not. She wasn’t doing anything wrong; she’d told him that she just wanted to be friends. Friends can ask friends to help them decide what to wear to a costume party, right?
“Nothing would make me happier,” he said, his face glowing. He waved Anna to the door that led to the bathroom and commanded, “Go on, let the show begin!”
“We need music, please. I heard from Lolly every room has its own jukebox?”
Vronsky rolled across the bed to the other side and stood up. “
As you wish,” he said. “One eighties dance track coming up!” He walked over to what Anna thought was a wacky robot sculpture in the far corner of the room. “Do you recognize this guy?”
“No,” Anna said. “Should I?”
“Anna K., let me introduce you to Johnny 5 from the movie Short Circuit. Beatrice became obsessed with this movie when she was seven, and always said she wanted Johnny 5 for a best friend. When her dad was trying out a trial separation from her mother, he did what any rich father does…”
“I know! I know!” Anna raised her hand like an overeager student. “He PEGG’d her!” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, that didn’t sound right at all. He Pre-Emptively Guilt Gifted her with Johnny 5!”
“Very good, young lady. Someone’s been studying their Bea-speak vocab list. Gold star for you.” Vronsky pushed a button in the back of the robot’s head and Johnny 5 came to life. “Bea was sad when the prop arrived and didn’t talk or move, so her father had someone convert it into a stereo system and added a few lights. Johnny 5 plays eighties tunes via a well-hidden iPod.”
“Amazing!” Anna clapped her hands in awe as Madonna’s 1983 classic “Holiday” filled the room and she spontaneously started dancing. Vronsky waved her off and she grabbed her suitcase and skipped into the bathroom to change.
After Vronsky made her show him every outfit twice, he finally cast his vote that Anna should go as the star of Atomic Blonde. “With your face and that wig, you could have single-handedly brought down the Berlin Wall!” Anna agreed that the blond wig made it feel more like a costume. She stared at herself in the full-length mirror, almost not recognizing herself as the sexy secret agent looking back at her.
“I know how to make sure,” Vronsky said. “We have to test it out.” He hopped off the bed and started dancing toward Anna, and soon they were both showing off their best eighties dance moves in the middle of the room to Whitney’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.” The next song that played was Foreigner’s 1984 slow-dance hit “I Want to Know What Love Is,” and the two teens froze momentarily, like a couple of nervous sixth graders at their first school dance. Vronsky recovered quickly, and pulled her into his arms before she had time to object. Anna closed her eyes and thought about resisting, but instead she nestled in even closer to him. When he put his hand on the small of her back, he shocked her, such was the electricity between them.
They danced for only ten seconds before a light knocking interrupted the moment. Anna turned her head and saw Lolly, dressed as a twentysomething Cher, standing in the open doorway holding a large makeup case. Anna and Vronsky separated quickly.
“Sorry!” Lolly squeaked. “I just came by because you asked me to help you with your makeup? I didn’t mean to interrupt…”
“You didn’t!” Anna said. “We were just goofing off. This song came on and…”
“And I was showing Anna how I danced at my first school dance in fifth grade. I asked the prettiest girl in class, not realizing she was a full head taller than me,” Vronsky said, coming to Anna’s rescue. “Her name was Sally W.” Anna stared at Lolly, wondering if she believed Vronsky’s story, a little unsettled at how seamlessly he could spin a lie and come up with an excuse.
“OMG,” Lolly responded sympathetically. “I was the tallest girl in fifth, too! Of course, then, I had no idea I’d stop growing the next year.” Lolly entered the room, smiling. “Your room is so cool, Anna! And, you look incredible. Charlize would be jealous if she saw you. I’m thinking a smoky eye and a pale lip would be the perfect touch.”
Anna finally found her words. “No, you look gorgeous, Lolly. That pantsuit is to die for. You know my mom has an original Bob Mackie buried somewhere in her closet? I’ll have to show it to you.”
“Well, ladies, I’m off,” Vronsky said. “It’s my turn to go get dolled up. Anna, I leave you in good hands.” He waved and made his getaway right as Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love” started to play. “I’ve got to get away from the pain you drive right into the heart of me. The love we share seems to go nowhere…”
XXIII
Dustin scrolled through Lolly’s Instagram and looked at her most recent posts. He could now see for himself the many debaucheries he would miss by bailing on the party. He could probably still go if he wanted, but it would involve a lot of transportation logistics that he wasn’t up to dealing with. Today had drained him, and where a party might help some people feel better, Dustin was positive it would only further deplete him. Plus, he was feeling cranky, which wasn’t the best vibe to bring into a party. The only thing that really wowed him in Lolly’s pictures was the motorcycle from Easy Rider parked in the corner of their sixties-inspired bedroom. Dustin had seen the movie for the first time at Film Forum with Nicholas. And the second time by himself during Nicholas’s second stint at rehab.
Steven had invited Dustin to the party two days ago. Dustin said no as soon as he heard it was out of town, but eventually Steven persuaded Dustin to come, telling him he could bring Nicholas, and that they were welcome to borrow his Beemer and drive up from the city together, because Steven was going early with Anna and Lolly in one of his father’s cars. What finally sold him were three things. One, Steven told him Kimmie wouldn’t be there. Second, when Dustin googled the house at Steven’s insistence, he saw that it looked like a movie museum filled with tons of props from famous films, including a Johnny 5 from Short Circuit, which was one of Nicholas’s favorite old movies. Lastly, Dustin liked that he and Steven were becoming friends, not childhood friends, and not friends out of convenience, but friends who wanted to spend time together because they actually wanted to hang out. Dustin and Steven were opposites in many ways, but the differing perspectives they offered each other were no doubt positive. Steven was one of the few people able to get Dustin out of his own head and stop obsessing about everything, and Dustin felt he was useful in teaching Steven to be more thoughtful when it came to his actions.
On the morning of the party, Dustin woke up to a phone call from his dad, asking him to meet him for breakfast. He didn’t explain why they needed to meet since it was Dustin’s weekend at his mom’s place, but his dad told him it was important. Dustin took the subway downtown and met his dad at the Silver Spurs diner near Houston. As soon as he slid into the booth, his father told him he had received a call from the Bronx halfway house this morning informing him that Nicholas had not showed up for work. Full-time employment was a mandatory condition for Nicholas being able to reside there. “I told them Nicholas was sick. But the max he can miss is two days.” His dad flagged down the waitress, pointed to the domed donut display case on the counter, and ordered two chocolate glazed. Dustin and his father shared the same sweet tooth. Some of Dustin’s favorite early childhood memories were from going with his dad and Nicholas to get bagels on Saturday morning. His dad would always buy two black-and-white cookies for the three of them to share and as childish as this sounds, Dustin always felt like the famous New York cookie represented his family life: he was the needed chocolate part to balance out the vanilla. He smiled ruefully at the memory of his childish innocence.
“When’s the last time you spoke to him?” his dad asked.
Dustin checked his phone. “Two days ago. It was just a text about why he thought today’s rap is stupid, because all those guys do is repeat stuff and rhyme words with the exact same word, which isn’t really a rhyme at all. And don’t even get him started on mumble rap.”
“Did he tell you he was leaving town?”
“No,” Dustin responded. “Dad, you’re jumping the gun. Maybe he is sick.”
“I went there this morning, and it looked like he didn’t sleep there last night.”
Before Dustin could respond, his dad received a phone call from Marcy, Dustin’s stepmother. Jason excused himself from the table and went outside to take the call. While Dustin waited, the waitress came by and placed the two donuts in front of him. Dustin nervously picked one up and bit into the chocolatey cake.
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sp; When his father returned, he didn’t sit down, but placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “That was Marcy. She was going to visit her sister in Jersey today until she found the car missing from the garage. C’mon, we have to go back to the house.”
As the two walked west, Dustin’s dad continued with his story. Marcy had assumed they had parked the car in the wrong space again, which had happened before, but when the guy who worked there checked the log it said it was taken out the day before yesterday.
“You mean it was stolen?” Dustin asked.
“It wasn’t stolen,” his dad continued. “The person who took it had the spare key and a note. Marcy and I are the only two people who are permitted to take it without one.”
When Dustin got back to his father’s place the pieces slowly clicked together, one by one. Marcy was upset because she had to admit the whole thing might have been her fault. Nicholas had shown up unannounced when his father was at work telling her Dustin had said he could borrow some clothes. Nicholas had spent a few minutes in Dustin’s room, but before he left she made him a sandwich and soup for lunch. While he was eating, Marcy got a call from her sister and had left Nicholas alone in the kitchen for five minutes. When she came back Nicholas had been sitting in the same place and had just finished eating. He thanked her and left. Dustin’s dad asked Marcy why she hadn’t told him about it and she said she’d meant to, but she was asleep when he came home from work that night and then he was already gone before she got up the next day. After that it slipped her mind.
“He seemed completely normal,” she added. “In fact, it was the best I’ve ever seen Nicholas. It was the most talkative he’s ever been. With me, at least.” As the new wife, Marcy had a good relationship with Dustin because he lived with them part time, but she barely knew Nicholas.
The spare car key had been hanging on a hook by the door, and it seemed Nicholas had used one of the many free pharmaceutical notepads lying around the kitchen to forge a note for the garage to make it look legit. Dustin went to go check through his room. It was hard to tell what was missing since Dustin’s clothes were scattered between his parents’ apartments, one of the downsides of being a child of divorce. The only things Nicholas had taken were the clothes Dustin had worn to the hip-hop party and maybe a backpack. Though, when Dustin opened the Band-Aid box in his sock drawer his heart sank. He’d had over three grand in cash stuffed in there, but it was now empty except for a folded-up piece of paper. This note was written on paper advertising a new heart medication and had the faded illustration of an anatomical heart at its center. Nicholas had written his words inside the heart: “D, I had to go see about a girl. N.”