Rotten Apple (18 page)

ow quickly can you get a car here?” Apple asked the lady on the phone.

“How quickly do you need one?” the lady said sleepily.

“Like, in thirty minutes or less?” Apple said impatiently.

“That’s cutting it a little short.”

“Well, it’s for Dr. Bee Bee Berg,” Apple said. “And we have an account with you. She uses you guys all the time to take her to the airport and pick her up.”

“The Queen of Hearts?” the lady said, suddenly perking up.

“Yes, well, I’m her daughter, and she just called and told me she forgot some very important files and she needs me to bring them to her to the studio. The show starts very soon.”

“Give me a second,” said the woman, and clicked at her computer keyboard. “Okay, I can do it.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” squealed Apple. “My mother will be thrilled.” She gave the
woman her address, and told her to put it on her mother’s account. Then she slammed down the phone, ran upstairs, ripped off her pajamas, and jumped in the shower. Her body wasn’t even fully dry as she threw on some clothes.

The driver picked her up exactly thirty minutes after the call. The drive to the studio took twenty-five minutes, most of which Apple spent biting her nails. Maybe she should get her license as soon as she could after all.

When the driver dropped her off, Apple ran to the front doors.

“Do you have a pass?” asked a security guard.

“I’m Dr. Berg’s daughter,” she said confidently, as if he should already know this.

“Well, then, go ahead,” he said, and waved her in.

She walked down the hallways and tried to remember where her mother’s dressing room was. It was kind of like riding a bike—she did remember. As a child, she used to come to the studio regularly and get her makeup put on by the professionals for fun. She popped her head through a door marked “The Queen.”

“Apple! Oh my goodness. What are you doing here?” her mother asked excitedly, turning around in her swivel chair. She had been getting her makeup done and was reading her notes for the show. “Hey, everyone. Have you all met my daughter, Apple?” her mother asked proudly, looking to the makeup person, the hair person, and the wardrobe lady.

Her mother’s smiled suddenly disappeared. “Apple, is everything okay? How did you get here? Are you all right? Did something happen?”

“Mom! Calm down. I’ll explain later how I got here.”

“It’s just that you
never
come here anymore. So something must be wrong. What’s wrong?” her mother asked, clearly alarmed.

“Can we get a minute alone, Mom?” Apple whispered, leaning close to her mother’s ear.

“Sure. Everyone, I need a minute alone with my daughter,” Dr. Berg said loudly yet calmly.

The room cleared out in seconds, and Apple suddenly found that her mother intimidated her. For a moment she saw her as the rest of the world did—as an important, powerful woman and role model. And she suddenly felt like one of the thousands of viewers who wrote desperately to the Queen of Hearts. Actually, now she
was
one of them.

“What is it, Apple?” Dr. Berg asked.

Breathe, Apple, breathe.

“I just… I just want to say how sorry I am for how I spoke to you and how I’ve been treating you. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about my problems. I’m sorry I snuck into your computer and pretended to be you. I’m sorry I thought you were the one who broke into my computer. And I’m sorry, most of all, that I didn’t ask for your advice. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry about
everything
.”

Apple was shocked to see her mother’s eyes tear up. She sat down on her mother’s chair, almost on her lap, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. It was the closest she’d been to her mother in God knew how long.

“Oh, Apple,” her mother started to say. “You’re going to make me cry, and Deirdre just finished my eyes.”

Apple gave a soft laugh. “I am truly sorry, Mom,” she said.

“Apple, it’s okay. I forgive you. I was fifteen once too, you know. I know it’s hard to believe, but I was,” her mother said. “So you know what the show is about today, I’m assuming. And you know who’s going to be on?”

“I know, Mom. I know,” Apple said gloomily.

“Well, I can put a stop to this right now, Apple. I can do that.”

“Forget it. I deserve it,” Apple said.

“I’m not sure you deserve
this
,” Dr. Berg said giving her daughter a pointed look.

“Well, Happy has wanted to be a guest on your show forever. This is her dream come true,” Apple said. “I really can’t take that away from her.
Especially
after everything I did to her.”

Just then, there was a sharp knock at the door and Guy walked in.

“Apple! What are you doing here? Are you here to give your friend support? That’s sweet. And Guy sees that your very presence here has shocked your mother into tears! That’s not good, Apple. She’s got to look television perfect. So, are we ready to go on air, Mrs. Queen of Hearts?” Guy asked. “Guy’s going to get Deirdre back in here to fix that mascara mess of yours. You don’t want to look like a raccoon!”

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m more than fine,” Dr. Berg said. “And, Guy, it’s waterproof mascara! I could go swimming and it wouldn’t run.” She turned to face her daughter. “Are you okay, Apple?”

“I’m feeling a bit better,” Apple said.

“All right then, showtime!” Guy said, clapping his hands like a boot camp instructor. “Apple, why don’t you wait in the green room? Have some of those chocolate chip cookies. They are to die for.”

Dr. Berg hugged her daughter and let Guy lead her out to the stage. In a few minutes, Apple thought, my life will be officially over. She felt strangely calm. What Happy would say was out of her hands, but at least her mother knew that she hadn’t meant to be rotten. All I can do now is watch, she thought. She walked back to the green room and sat down on a couch facing the television.

Dr. Berg introduced the show topic—“Why Teenagers’ Love Lives Are Just as Complicated as Ours”—and then invited her first guest out onstage. Apple watched Happy, her ex-best friend, walk out onstage. Apple had always known that Happy was beautiful, but she’d had no idea how super-photogenic she was until she saw her on screen.

“So, Happy, you are in tenth grade. Do you have a boyfriend?” asked Dr. Berg.

“Yes, I do. He’s great,” Happy said.

Apple leaned closer to the television. Had Happy just said Zen was her boyfriend? She’d had no idea their relationship had progressed so quickly.

“And how long have you two been dating?” Apple’s mother asked Happy.

“Well, not very long. But we had some complications,” Happy said.

“And what do you mean by that?” Dr. Bee Bee Berg asked.

“Well, another girl at my school tried to sabotage
my relationship,” Happy answered, looking straight into the camera. Happy was born to be on television.

Apple felt her heart sink as the studio audience booed. Everything Apple had feared would happen was happening. It was like watching a car accident in progress. She blinked back tears. It was all going down. Right now.

“And it was my so-called best friend who tried to sabotage my relationship,” Happy added. Again the audience booed. Clearly, Happy, who had watched
Queen of Hearts with Dr. Bee Bee Berg
a thousand times, knew what to say to push the audience’s buttons. Even Apple couldn’t help but be impressed through her own mortification. Happy was really good at this TV thing.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘sabotage?’” Dr. Berg asked.

“Well, I told my friend that I liked this guy and I asked her to ask him some things to find out if he liked me too,” Happy began. “And instead of doing that, she led him to believe that I wasn’t a serious relationship person. Then she gave him bad advice about how to impress me. And other things like that.”

“What else, dear?” Dr. Berg asked. Even though her mother knew it was Apple that Happy was talking about, she was still a professional.

“Well, she told him to not ask me to the school dance,” Happy explained.

Again the audience booed, which just egged Happy on. She was on fire.

“She told him that he should wait and that he would
seem over-eager if he asked me. Meanwhile, she knew that I wanted him to ask me. Then another guy asked me, and I so did not want to go with him, but my friend—sorry, my ex-friend—told me I should accept
his
invitation.”

“Nooo!” the audience yelled out.

“Yes!” Happy said, looking directly into the studio. “And then she went and asked the guy
I
liked to the dance
herself
.”

“Nooo!” the audience screamed.

“And how did you find all this out, dear?” Dr. Berg asked Happy.

“By accidental e-mail,” Happy said simply. “My friend—my ex-friend—had actually written
you
, Dr. Berg, an e-mail asking you for your advice after all she did, and she accidentally sent it to
me
instead.”

“Nooo!” the audience screamed again.

“Yes!” Happy said. “Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. But it all happened.”

“And do you still talk to this friend of yours?” Dr. Berg asked.

“No. After I found out what she did, I just cut off all contact. I’m not sure I can ever trust her again,” Happy said.

“Well, viewers,” said Dr. Berg, turning to the camera, “as you can see, relationship problems start early. When we come back, we’ll hear from Happy if she plans to ever forgive her friend.”

The television in the green room went black. The commercials were not aired in the green room like they were at home. Apple thought she was for sure in shock
because her hands felt frozen. In fact, her whole body felt frozen.

Her cell phone started to ring. Apple picked it up.

“You are so screwed,” the voice said teasingly. It was Aunt Hazel.

“I know! I’m never going to be able to show my face again,” muttered Apple.

“Come on! I was joking. It wasn’t that bad,” Aunt Hazel said.

“Are you serious?” Apple asked. “Was it really not that bad?” Maybe it just seemed so bad to Apple because she knew Happy was talking about her. Maybe it didn’t seem so bad to all the other viewers. Maybe the rest of the world was mainly concentrating on how beautiful Happy looked.

“No, it
was
sort of bad,” said Aunt Hazel, sympathetically. “I’m just being honest.”

“What am I going to do?” Apple moaned.

“Where are you?” Aunt Hazel asked. “I’m at your place and you’re not here. Aren’t you grounded?”

“I’m at the studio,” Apple told her.

“You are not!”

“I am!”

“What are you doing there?” her aunt asked.

“I thought I’d try to get some face time with Happy before it all went down.”

“I guess that didn’t exactly work out,” Aunt Hazel said.

“No, I didn’t get a chance to see her. But I did make up with my mother, at least. Oh, God, I’ll never be able to show my face anywhere ever again,” she moaned.

“You’d better get out of there, Apple. I mean, if that
studio audience finds out that you are the one to have caused all that trouble, you’ll be lynched to pieces.”

“I know! I never thought I’d ever be saying this, Aunt Hazel,” Apple began, “but I really, really need your advice. What can I do?”

“Well, I guess there is
one
thing you can do. But it is a pretty
brave
thing.”

“Just tell me. I’ll do anything,” cried Apple.

“It’s something that not even in my craziest moments would I ever do myself,” Aunt Hazel warned. “And you know how crazy I can be.”

“I don’t have time for this! Just tell me already,” Apple demanded.

Crazy Aunt Hazel told Apple her plan. It
was
crazy. It was the craziest plan Apple had ever heard. But what other choice did she have now?

pple took a deep breath and walked out onstage, blinking in the glare of the studio lights. She was daunted by the cameras, by the audience, by seeing Happy. She knew she was paying for her sins. She was sacrificing all her much-loved privacy at this moment, and she was shaking like a leaf. Her mother was in the middle of asking Happy another question when she noticed Apple walking toward them. Apple concentrated on her mother and Happy and tried to ignore the hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at her from the studio audience.

“Apple!” her mother said, standing up. Even her mother’s unfailing professionalism was shaken. She looked shocked. But she quickly composed herself, plastered a smile on her face, and turned to the studio audience. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Apple. My daughter.”

The audience clapped and hooted, which made
Apple feel even more nervous. She didn’t like to be the center of attention.

Apple glanced at Happy, who looked more pissed off than surprised. As the audience continued to clap, her mother leaned in and whispered in Apple’s ear. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need to say something,” she whispered back. “Here. Now.”

“You do understand that we’re live here!” her mother said a little more loudly.

“Yes, Mom! I know how the show works. I need to say what I have to say
on air
.”

“Okay,” her mother said, throwing her arms up and stepping back.

As the audience calmed down, Dr. Berg called out to them. “Well, this is quite the surprise. I didn’t expect this. Can we get my daughter a microphone please?”

A soundman ran up and hooked a microphone onto Apple’s collar. Usually the wire would go under the shirt to hide it, but there was no time now for presentation. Her mother directed her to sit on the couch next to Happy. Happy sat up taller and looked straight ahead to the audience.

“Apple,” her mother said. “Tell us what you’re doing out here … turning up in the middle of the show today.”

“I’d just like to say that I’m the one who tried to sabotage her relationship,” Apple admitted quietly. She could hear her voice shaking. “The girl Happy was talking about is me.”

The audience, as she had expected, started oohhing
and ahhing. To Apple it seemed as loud as a plane flying right through the studio. She started to feel disoriented.

Apple started to speak again while the audience was still hollering. She had the urge to yell at them, “Let me explain!” But she turned to Happy.

“I’m just here because I need you, Happy, to know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. You’ve been my best friend forever. And you know how hard this is for me,” Apple said to her.

Happy looked down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap.

“Is this true, Happy?” Dr. Bee Bee Berg asked. “Do you think this is hard for Apple?”

“Yes, I do,” Happy admitted. “We call her the Sponge, because she never talks about her feelings. Not even to her friends or family.”

“Apple, can you tell us why you did this? I know this is hard,” her mother said, “but we all need to fully understand this.”

“Yes, it is hard. But I want to. I liked Happy’s now-boyfriend for years,
before
he got so cute,” she said, looking again at her friend. For a brief moment, Apple forgot that they were sitting in front of a live studio audience and that millions of people were watching them in their homes.

“But you never said anything,” Happy said to her.

“I know. I really don’t know how to talk about my feelings. I just couldn’t,” Apple said, her voice continuing to waver. “But I’d like to try now.”

There was a moment of silence. Happy looked like
she was deep in thought.

“And can you believe she is my daughter? My own flesh and blood?” Dr. Bee Bee Berg interrupted, looking out to the audience, who laughed obediently. “So what else exactly do you have to say to Happy?” her mother asked, turning her attention back to Apple.

“Just that I wonder if she could ever forgive me and that I love her and that I promise to try and talk more openly about my feelings,” Apple said quickly, and added, “if she’d be willing to listen.”

“Now, this boy, whom you, Apple, liked and who is now Happy’s boyfriend,” her mother said. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

The audience was stone silent. Apple felt a heaviness in her chest, like someone was pounding on her heart. It was a fair question, she guessed. Happy raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“No, I don’t think so,” Apple said. “No, I
know
I don’t. I just want to be friends with Happy again. That’s all I want. No guy is worth losing Happy over,” Apple added, and she meant it.

“Do you want my advice, people?” Dr. Bee Bee Berg said to the studio audience.

The audience screamed out in unison, “Yes, we want your advice, Queen of Hearts!”

Happy still refused to look at Apple. Here I am, thought Apple, onstage, answering questions about the most personal details of my life, admitting what I did in front of millions of people, begging Happy for forgiveness, and it may all backfire. This was a
crazy plan. Happy may never forgive me, she thought.

“I think, Apple, you’ll have to earn Happy’s trust back.” Dr. Berg turned to Apple, saying more quietly, “I know it’s harsh, and trust me, there’s no one in the world I’d like to see this work out for more than you, but you have to
earn
trust,” she said.

“And how do I do that?” Apple asked.

“Baby steps, as always. Baby steps. It takes time to heal all wounds, especially trust wounds. But you have a history, and a good history, with Happy. I’d start by having a heart-to-heart. Get it all out on the table. Share your feelings. Really listen to one another. Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes trust is about faith. Apple, you may have to trust that Happy will take that leap of faith and believe in you again. Happy, does that sound about right to you?” her mother asked.

Finally, Happy looked at Apple.

“Yes. I
would
like to be friends again with Apple. I mean, she’s been my best friend for years,” Happy said. “It may take some time, but I’m sure we’ll get there.”

Happy stood up, much to Apple’s surprise, and hugged her. The audience clapped wildly. It was a TV moment made in heaven. Apple looked up and saw Guy wiping a tear from his eye in the director’s booth on the second floor, and mouthing the words, “Brava! Brava!”

Apple felt her mother shoving something in her hand. It was a Kleenex. Two seconds later, Apple really started to cry—but these were tears of relief, letting it all out. How was it that her mother always knew when her guests were going to break down?