I nodded, not an ounce of hesitation in me. “Yeah, Val. It is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried,” I whispered.
He hung his head down. “I’m so sorry.”Three years later.“AND THE OSCAR goes to…” A malnourished, creepily beautiful actress grins into a microphone, tugging a card out of an envelope on live television. “Adam Mackay, Sunny Side Up!”
The crowd explodes with applause, and I cannot help but stand up and clap, too, even though I’m many miles away, back in New England, super pregnant and in my childhood bedroom.
The starlet continues into the microphone. “Adam couldn’t be here with us today. He and his wife are expecting their son any second now. So, this one is for you, Adam! We hope you have space in your bathroom for this.” She flings the little statue around, giggling.
Adam walks into the room. My room. The room that holds so many memories. Some bad, some good. All priceless. His eyes flicker to the screen. He sits next to me, rubbing my giant belly.
“B-o-r-i-n-g,” he says slowly to my belly, one of his many conversations with our unborn son. “What a non-item. I stopped listening after Best Original Script. That was the only category I cared about.”
He says it because I wrote the script for Sunny Side Up, a dramedy (dramatic-comedy) where two lost souls find each other in Los Angeles years after a breakup. It was our baby. I wrote it. Adam acted and produced. I didn’t end up winning, but damn, I was close, and that in itself was the best gift I could ever dream of.
Other than why I’m here and not in L.A.
Our baby.
“It’s okay to be happy for yourself.” I laugh, kissing the tip of his nose. “I’m so happy for you. You worked so hard for it.”
“So did my wife.” He kisses my knuckles.
We don’t talk about the fact that Best Soundtrack went to Johnny Grady, who went onstage and had no one personal to thank for the accomplishment, because his wife had divorced him, and his young lover—Chris—had walked away from him days after the showdown at Adam’s condo three years ago. I felt no anger toward Johnny or Chris. Just sadness for them, for what they had to go through to stay a secret. If anything, the breakup with Chris brought Adam back to my life. It just goes to show sometimes you can find the silver lining in anything, even heartbreak.
I rub my belly. I’m three days overdue and would love to meet my son. “Can you believe we’ve made it this far?” I ask.
Adam grins. “Honestly? Yes.”
Val walks into my room with his fiancée, Skye, without knocking. She’s tall and curvy and has this magnetic smile. I cannot wait for her to become an official part of our family. They look between us, chuckling when they see I’m about to topple over on my giant belly.
“Ready to pop?” Skye asks.
“Any minute now,” I confirm with a nod.
“Congrats on the Oscar.” Val winks at Adam. Adam smiles, standing up. They do the bro-hug. Shoulder-bump and a clap on the back. Betsy, our ancient cat, strolls into the room, whining. We take her with us everywhere if we can swing it with the flights. It’s so much easier than letting someone we don’t know babysit her. She rubs against my ankles, clearly happy to be here.
“Thanks.”
“Also, thanks for agreeing not to touch my sister. That was really cool of you.” Val’s eyes drift to my stomach. The four of us burst into laughter.
“It’s hard, but I gave you my word.” Adam shrugs.
This feels like full circle. Like a dream come true. Exactly where I’m supposed to be. With the people I’m supposed to be.
Sure, it didn’t happen exactly as I envisioned it as a teenager, but it happened, nonetheless.
Like Joel convinced Clementine to stay in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Their relationship was flawed and turbulent, but it was real. The memory of what they were bone-deep.
The heart wants what it wants.
And my heart always wanted Adam.BY L.J. SHENSTAY RIGHT HERE WITH ME - WILLOW WINTERSLysa“MAKE IT SHINE,” my grandma used to tell me that whenever I was cleaning the bar top. I had a habit of it when I was only four years old. She told me all about it when I got my first job here, the bar called Brick’s that used to belong to my grandfather. I thought she was lying at first when she told me, but the customers remembered it too. I’d take the little cloth rag from the little tykes kitchen in the backroom and I’d climb up the wooden barstools and get on top of the already polished bar top and mimic my father. Three small circles, then one large. My little arms couldn’t reach all the way across, but I kept going when Grandma told me, “Make it shine.”