Reinventing Mona (33 page)

This time the actors stopped dead and turned to me. All eyes in the audience were on me. Everyone wanted to know what Adam was talking about.

“I was ... I tried ... Adam, it’s not how it seems,” I stammered.

“I loved you!” he shouted. “I was going to ask you to marry me. I don’t even know who the hell you are. What kind of nut are you?!”

“Okay, buddy, you’re gonna have to back off now.” Mike finally stood up to defend me. Suddenly, a spotlight shone on him. “Fuck,” he said, resigned, as if he saw that coming. Then he went on. “Ease up on Mona, man. She was doing all this ʼcause she wanted you to like her.”

“
What
was she doing?!” Adam shouted at Mike.

“Settle down, buddy.”

“Why don’t you make me settle down,
buddy?”
Adam challenged.

The woman three rows back whispered, “I’ve got to tell Louise about this show.”

Mike ignored the challenge to a fight and turned to me sitting in the seat between them. I had momentarily shrunk back into obscurity, but Mike grabbed my hand and I was in the spotlight again. Softly he said, “Look, Mona, I know this isn’t the best timing, but I gotta tell you, I love you, too. My whole ... the way I . .. I don’t know, I just love you, Mona Lisa. When you first hired me, I thought you had a screw loose, but man, the more I got to know you, the more I felt completely and totally at home with you. You’re the first woman I’ve been able to really be myself with. Not even myself, better than myself. Like the me I didn’t know I could be. I don’t know, maybe it’s because you weren’t even on the radar as a possible girlfriend; there wasn’t any need to impress you or pull my usual bullshit. It was like since there was no possibility of us getting together, we could hang out and I could, I don’t know, just be me and just being me made me better than me, does that make any sense at all? Don’t answer that, I know it doesn’t, but I don’t care. I love you, Mona. I’m like crazy, freakin’ in love, wanna be your pussy whipped husband in love with you, Mona. And you know I never get sappy like this, but I can’t stand watching you try to impress this clown anymore when you and I both know that it’s you and me who belong together.”

The group of audience members surrounding us let out a big “Ahhhhh!”

Someone from the back shouted, “What’d he say?!”

“He said he loves her. Shush,” Vicki returned.

Greta closed her eyes, looking as though she was mortified at the public display. But then she rose from her seat and right on cue, she was at the center of a bright circle of light. “Mona, I’ve been giving you a hard time for months over these public relations stunts you’ve been pulling to lure in Adam.”

Her preamble was interrupted by Adam. “Okay, finally I’m getting a little insight into what the hell is going on here.”

“Shut up!” three people in the audience snapped at Adam. “Somebody else is talking, Mr. Big Mouth,” one said.

Greta looked toward the ground then shot her head up like she was about to lead the troops into battle. “Anyway, it’s me who’s been the fraud here. At least you were honest about what you want. I haven’t even had the guts to tell you who I really am, and that, that ... Good Lord, help me, but Terry back in Texas is a woman, and I left her because she wanted more of a commitment from me, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay with her any longer because I love
you
, Mona.”

“Hot diggity dog,” a guy in the audience said as he rubbed his hands together in delight.

From onstage, Ollie shouted, “Enough!” And finally, the show returned to its rightful venue. At last, Ollie had decided to put an end to this spectacle and resume his production. “Mona, I love you, too,” he declared.

Ollie?

“Ever since you walked into my theater that day I was smitten. No one questions the director, but here came this little pistol telling me that my choices are all wrong and that I wasn’t being true to the script.” He sighed audibly. “And then when we sang together, that was it. That voice. It’s intoxicating and I am utterly intoxicated by you, Mona Warren.”

“Isn’t she great?” Vicki shouted to Ollie. “That guy at the bar turned out to be legit and Mona may front a new band.” This hardly seemed the time for a chat, but people in the audience began muttering that they were impressed. The woman three rows back even wished me luck, so all things considered, Vicki’s update wasn’t too out of line.

From the back row, a guy I’d never seen before stood up and declared his love for me, too. Even with the spotlight on him, I had no idea who he was.

“Do I know you?” I asked.

“No, baby, but three guys and a lesbian can’t be wrong. You must be one hot number.”

“I like the second boy,” said a yenta in the front row. “That other one—shouting, shouting, shouting. Not very nice. Mona needs a sensitive boy like number two.”

From onstage, Julie offered, “Ollie is very nice, too.”

The yenta replied, “Eh, she could do worse, but my money’s on number two.”

“His name is Mike,” Vicki corrected.

“Well, then I like Mike.” She smiled at Vicki, who returned the gesture.

“Take the lesbian!” shouted the same guy who was fired up over Greta’s declaration. “Take me
and
the lesbian.” Greta rolled her eyes.

Soon, nearly everyone from the audience and cast was shouting their suggestions at me. Most were rooting for Mike. Many of the men wanted Greta, though their motives were questionable. And a handful thought I should give Ollie a shot. No one lobbied for Adam, least of all Adam.

“Take Mike!”

“Go with the chick!”

“Ollie’s a good guy.”

“Shut up!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

“This is
not
elimiDATE,” I said more calmly. “These are people with feelings and you’re treating them like they’re each a disposable commodity. Please, please, be quiet for just a moment.” I inhaled deeply at the annoyance of being yet again in the bright heat of the spotlight. “Adam, I’m so sorry. I fell in love with you seven years ago from afar and thought so little of myself that I orchestrated all of these scenarios because I thought I couldn’t win you over on my own. I figured you’d find me more interesting if I dated rock stars or saved lives, but everything I tried failed miserably, and frankly I can’t believe you fell in love with me in spite of everything. I mean, I looked like a total loser and you still loved me. You can’t possibly know what a gift that is to me, Adam. I swear, I love you for that, Adam. I do love you as a person and for what you’ve given me, but I’m not in love
with
you, and that’s the first thing I’ve ever told you that is completely honest. That, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

Adam said nothing.

“Greta, you are my best friend in the world. You were a friend to me when no one else was, and these last few months that you’ve been back in San Diego have been wonderful. I love you dearly, but I’m just not a lesbian. I’m glad you are, though. I mean, I’m glad that if that’s who you are, you finally told me. And again, I can’t believe that knowing what you know about me, you still developed feelings, but just like you can’t change who you are, I can’t change who I am.” Greta smiled. I honestly don’t think she was ever truly in love with me as much as she loved me as a friend as a teen, the same time she was coming to terms with her sexuality. “And Ollie, I don’t know what to say. I’ve enjoyed singing with you, but we hardly know each other. I think you’re a sweetheart and maybe we could’ve had a shot at something had you not directed your lighting crew to spot everyone for our little sideshow here.” I laughed. “Ollie, you’re the first man who’s ever said I was a bossy pain in the ass. You’re the first person who’s ever characterized me this way, and knowing that I can be accepted and even loved this way is invaluable to me.”

“What about me?” the guy in the back shouted.

“Sir, I don’t even know you.”

“Strangers need love, too.”

“Mike.” My voice quivered. “I’ll be honest, though it’s fairly new territory for me. You scare me. I was about two inches from falling in love with you the moment we met. There’s something so unbelievably compelling about you, but you can be so detached. There are times when you are so completely disengaged from the real you, I can’t tell which is the persona and which is the real Mike—the column or the guy who glued my mug back together. I would love to throw myself into your arms and end this show with the big Hollywood kiss, but you scare me. Once I let myself fall in love with you, I’m not sure I can fall out. But you might, and Mike,” my eyes filled with tears, “I can’t risk losing another person I love, so I’m going to just hold off on this one with you. If you really love me, you’ll wait. And I know this sounds odd, but I kind of need to see that you’ll wait.”

I realized that the entire theatre was silent, disappointed that I didn’t give them the ending they’d hoped for. Shockingly, our whole group even Adam—was still seated, and seemingly ready to watch the rest of
It’s a Wonderful Life, The Musical
.

Ollie waited to see that I’d finished. “Okay, then, as they say, the show must go on.”

“Well we’re living here in Bedford Falls,”
a group began to sing as I rushed from the theater and caught a taxi back to my quiet home.

Six months after the staged Christmas at the Bailey home, I finally got my old-fashioned family holiday. It was quite different looking than the one I fantasized about in Larry Fontaine’s office last year. Twenty of us were scattered across the house. Greta and Vicki helped me in the kitchen while Mike set the dining room table. Christmas music filled the living room and sun poured into Tara. There was a feeling that while tomorrow may be another day, life was pretty wonderful today.

Vicki brought a cup of eggnog to her new husband, Captain John, which I must confess took a little getting used to. Somewhere between redecorating his family room and the bedrooms, something sparked between them. When she finished the job she asked what he thought of the house, and he replied, “It could look a lot better with you as a permanent fixture,” and presented her with a rock that rivals any self-respecting doorknob. Mike had a hard time with it at first and kept calling the captain the “Quaker Oats guy.” When the word got out that Vicki was a stripper, everyone on the island started buzzing that she was our hometown Anna Nicole Smith, but two weeks later, one of the most successful real estate brokers’ sons drove his father’s Porsche into the family room of a seven million dollar beachfront listing, and all gossip was refocused on the O’Connor boy’s DUI.

Greta and Brooke got together after the Kickin’ Chicks season opener. They are two of the most fierce and intense athletes I’ve ever seen play soccer. I shudder to think of the sex they have. Then, I just stop thinking about it. What I love most about Brooke is how she calls Greta on her need to psychoanalyze the other teammates. I laughed at the thought that in my makeshift family, a lesbian mid-fielder was my new sister-in-law. My eighty-year old brother-in-law was my grandmother’s former illicit lover who married a stripper-gone-decorator. My, how Coronado had changed. And all under one roof.

Sitting at the piano, Ollie asked if anyone had another request and Julie said she’d like to hear “Auld Lang Syne.” “After dinner, Ollie,” she said. “Everyone’s starving.”

“Shall we say grace?” asked Francesca. She moved in about two weeks after Thanksgiving when I called to tell her I was pregnant. She said that while she’s enjoyed her life in Missoula, she was ready to be surrounded by family again. With that, I felt a marble in my throat and invited her to come and live with Mike and me. God knows, neither of us has a clue how to take care of a baby. She was the house grandmother we desperately needed. An ordained minister, she plans to marry us next week.

Mike’s contract with
Maximum for Him
was not renewed after Mike dared to suggest that uncomplicated love with a woman was possible and even probable if both sexes stopped thinking of themselves as inhabitants of different planets. Of course, a great deal of Mike’s identity was as The Dog, so he went through a bit of depression when he got kicked out of the Dog House. A week later, he got a call from
Glamour
asking Mike to take over as the new “Jake,” the columnist who offers women the inside scoop on how men think. And he got an enormous advance to work on a new book on male female relationships. Working title:
Who Let the Dog Out?
Proudly, I smiled upon hearing the title. I did, I thought. Mona Lisa did.

As for me, I made the cut for the band, which ultimately named itself Total Fraud (my suggestion). We sing everything from AC/DC to Norah Jones to hip-hop and play local dive bars on the weekends. Our first CD will be released this spring. No one seems to mind that I’ll be visibly pregnant by then, and as long as California bars remain smoke-free, I have no issues going on stage as big as a house. I also had my first real boxing match in September and was treated to a serious ass-kicking. I was knocked out in the second round. Tio thought I could’ve done better, but when I came to, and they told me what had happened, I said “It took her two whole rounds to knock me out, that’s pretty damned good.” I was most proud of the fact that I got up and walked out of the ring on my own. My next fight, I lost by judge’s decision. Three rounds totally conscious. I am a champion. Of course, my
Rocky
days are over, at least until the baby arrives.

The only one who was missing from our night at the theatre was Adam. I called his office in September to ask him a question about my filings and the honker said he’d left the family business. “Yeah, one day last summer he came in, said to hell with his obligation to the family business, that Southern California was full of nut cases and he took off for Oklahoma. Can you believe it?” I did. And I was happy for him.

As we sat down to eat, Mike squeezed my knee under the table. “Hey, happy birthday, Mona Lisa.”

“Yes,” I said, smiling at him.

The doorbell rang just as Captain John began carving the turkey. I looked at Mike, who was sitting closest to the door. Vicki looked at him, too, as if he were a clod for not getting up to answer the door.