"You have three new messages," the answering machine drones.
"Three?" I ask in disbelief as I set down a bag of groceries. "We were out of the house for an hour at most."
Henry shrugs and starts putting away vegetables. "Guess we're a popular family."
I press 'play' on the answering machine, and listen to my mom calling to say hi. I make a mental note to call her later, then listen to the second message, which is from someone at Perceval Press. The third call is from one of Henry's friends, who wants to know if my son is planning on attending a party on Saturday. None of them are from Orli, which disappoints me more than a little; it's now been four days since I last heard from him, which is extremely unusual.
It's not that I'm worried about his safety or anything like that, since he's on the set of a big-budget movie (not to mention that Bean would call me in a nanosecond if something happened to him), but it's odd that he hasn't called me in a few days. The last time we spoke was the day after he got that little package I sent him, the one he seemed to have enjoyed immensely. If I remember our conversation correctly, I didn't say anything that upset him in any way and we were both in good spirits when we hung up, albeit a bit melancholy about being apart as we always are during those phone calls. I've called his cell phone twice and left messages on his voice mail, but he hasn't called me back. I guess he could just be busy with work.
"Dad?"
"Huh?"
Henry rolls his eyes. "I asked you where the cinnamon goes."
"In the spice drawer," I instruct. "Two drawers to the right of the refrigerator."
"And are you just gonna stand there all day and watch me unpack your groceries?"
"Nah, I'll help you," I chuckle, springing into action and grabbing a carton of orange juice.
"Thank you."
*****
"Come on Orli, pick up," I mutter into the phone as I wait for the call to connect. "Pick up, pick up, pick up." But the call goes straight to voice mail without even ringing.
"Hey, this is Orlando," he says cheerily on the voice mail. "I'm sorry that I can't take your call just now, but I promise to get back to you soon if you leave a quick message with your name and number. Thanks so much and have a great day! Okay, now Lij, tell me how I stop recording this thing." I grin at the tail end of the recording that showcases my boyfriend's technical ineptitude.
"Hi, it's me. It's about ten o'clock on Thursday night, and I'm just calling to see how you're doing." I pause, trying to figure out what to say. "I'm sure you're having a really good time down there, because, well, Mexico looks like a lot of fun. And I hope you're still having a great time with the role and your co-stars, especially Sean. I miss you and love you, and hope you give me a call soon."
I hang up the phone with a dejected sigh and look back disinterestedly at the television I had been watching earlier. After flipping through the channels for a minute or two, I turn it off and decide to turn in for the evening. I make sure all the doors are locked and the lights are off, then say goodnight to Henry and get ready for bed.
"Are you keeping me company tonight?" I ask with a smile as Pokey leaps up onto the bed and settles down next to me. He meows loudly in response, and I chuckle. "Thank you. You're a very good cat, Pokey." I pet his head before stretching out on the mattress and getting into a comfortable sleeping position.
Today is over. But maybe Orli will call tomorrow.
*****
My very nice dream is suddenly interrupted by the sharp ring of the telephone. I come awake with a start, looking blearily over at the clock on the nightstand. The neon numbers on the clock say that it's after midnight, and I really don't want to have to deal with anyone in the middle of the night. Although it could be an emergency, which is enough incentive for me to scramble for the phone.
"Hello?" I ask breathlessly.
"Vig? Did I wake you?" The sound of Orli's voice coming through the phone makes me smile and relax against the pillows. Whatever annoyance I had about being woken up fades away, and I'm just glad that he's called.
"Yeah, but it's okay. Although I was having a nice dream."
"Was I in it?"
I laugh. "Yes, you were in the dream. I was at my thirtieth high-school reunion for some reason, even though it's not for a few more years, and you went with me. All the people who treated me like shit when I was in school were trying to flirt with you, but you kept kissing me in front of them to prove that you weren't interested in anyone else."
"Sounds like a nice dream," he says.
"It was."
"Listen, I'm sorry that I haven't really called these last few days."
"Orli, you don't have to apologize. I'm sure that the movie has kept you very busy, and you know that you're not obligated to call me."
"Of course I'm not *obligated*, but I love to talk to you. It's the only thing that makes these separations bearable, other than the relationship journals. Oh, and that parcel you sent me last week, which I'm still enjoying."
"I'm glad you're getting some good use out of that," I chuckle.
"But the phone calls really mean so much to me. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear your voice after a long and difficult day, or how much I love ringing you to talk about all the great stuff that happened on a particular afternoon. Or even phone sex, for God's sake; all of it is important to me when I'm away from you."
"Then why haven't you been calling?" I ask nervously. "Have you just been too busy?"
He sighs. "I have been *so* stressed, Viggo. I can't even begin to tell you how exhausted I feel right now." For the first time in our conversation, his voice sounds like it's about to falter. "Everything just feels like it's this heavy weight on my shoulders, and I don't know how to react to it all."
"Oh, Orli . . ."
"And I haven't called you because I didn't want you to worry," he continues. "I didn't want you to have that burden of knowing that I'm having problems with some shit right now."
"It's not a burden. I'd much rather know than not know, because this way maybe I can help you," I tell him. "Look, why don't you start by telling me what's bothering you?" There's a long silence, and I start to worry. "Orli, love, please tell me what's wrong."
"I feel like everything's so overwhelming right now."
"What do you mean?" I reach across the bed to turn on the light, my arm hitting something furry and provoking a startled meow as Pokey darts off of the bed in fear. "Shit, I startled the cat."
Orli laughs on the other end of the line. "Poor baby."
"Me or the cat?"
"Both of you."
"I'm sorry, Orli," I say as I click on the lamp. "I didn't meant to interrupt you."
"It's okay." He sighs again. "It's just that, like, this past year has been absolutely *insane* for me. And not all in a bad way, because the opportunities I've gotten have been incredible. But I don't exactly feel like I know how to handle it all, especailly when you're not around; things always seem easier somehow when you're with me."
I already missed him before this, but now I miss him desperately. "I'm sure you're handling everything fine. You don't give yourself enough credit for all that you deal with," I tell him. "Now, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"
"Well, for starters, the whole Kate thing is pretty much over. Robin flipped after those Cabo San Lucas pictures surfaced where the two of us looked like we were being tortured. She basically pulled the plug on her little operation, and I no longer have a fake girlfriend. This was followed by another plea for me to come out, and I was forced to reiterate that I'm not coming out any sooner than January, no matter what the circumstances are."
"I'm sorry Orli, but I really don't like her."
"Yeah, I'm thinking of getting another publicist," he sighs. "She's just so much fucking stress. But I don't know who'd be willing to take on a client who's planning on coming out in five months."
"You'd find another publicist," I assure him. "To put this into Hollywood parlance, you're very hot right now. 'Pirates' is doing ridiculously well at the box office, 'Return of the King' is only a few months away, and you're filming another huge movie as we speak. Honestly, I don't know how much coming out will affect your career one way or the other, but I know that you'll be able to find a new publicist if you really want one."
"You're probably right."
"I'm always right."
Orli laughs a little, then takes a deep breath. "I got some shitty reviews, you know. For 'Pirates'. A lot of critics said that I was dull and unconvincing."
"Ignore them. They're critics, and you can never please all of them." I pray that Orli will listen to me, knowing how insecure he already is about his acting abilities.
"Yeah, but still . . . all I look like is just another pretty face."
"That's not true," I tell him firmly. "Your character was essentially the straight man--"
"Which is bloody hilarious, seeing as who I'm sleeping with."
I sigh. "Orli, you're a terrific actor. 'The New Yorker' gave you a great review; they really liked your performance and compared you to a young Errol Flynn. And their movie critic is very tough, so I doubt that you got such a good review on the basis of a pretty face."
"I guess not," he mumbles. "I just feel like I'm being hyped to death, and now 'Pirates' is doing better than anyone expected it to, and I'm starting to actually become a star . . . and I'm not quite sure how to deal with it. It's really overwhelming. I mean, there were actually girls who chased after my limo at the premiere of 'Pirates'! And the amount of fan mail I get is insane! Seriously, I'm going out of my head here."
"How's filming going?"
"It's going well, but there's a million calls a day from my agent and my publicist, and I can't keep up with all the shit they want from me. I'm an actor, not a bloody circus act! How can they expect me to do my job when all they want is for me to do countless interviews and photo shoots and look at tons of scripts?"
I can't ever remember hearing Orli this worn out, not even during the longest stretches of the Helm's Deep shoot, and I fervently wish that he were here with me right now, that I could somehow make things better. I know he's not truly depressed, just going through a rough patch, but that's still enough for me to worry about him and make me wonder how I can ease his stress about all the crap he's dealing with. He shouldn't have to worry about all of this nonsense.
"Viggo? You still there?"
"Sorry, love," I say hastily. "My mind wandered off for a bit."
"Should I let you go to sleep? I didn't mean to call you so late, but I just needed to talk to you."
"I'm glad you called; I really miss you, and you know how much I love to hear your voice."
"I miss you, too," he murmurs. "I can't wait to come home in three weeks."
"Neither can I." I inadvertently let a yawn slip, and Orli chuckles.
"I'm keeping you up, aren't I?"
"I don't mind."
"Get some sleep, Vig. I don't fancy the idea of keeping you up all night."
"Really, I don't mind at all."
Orli clucks his tongue disapprovingly. "Viggo Peter Mortensen, Jr. Go to sleep."
I laugh loudly. "Well, if you used my *full* name, then I guess I really have to do what you say."
"You're damned right. And I love you very, very much."
"I love you too, Orli," I say, smiling as an idea springs to mind. "Don't worry about all of this stuff, okay? It'll all work itself out in the end. Just concentrate on what's really important."
"Like you?"
"Like us," I chuckle. My grin widens as Pokey jumps up onto the bed again. "Among other things, such as our cat."
"Oh, is he back? You didn't scare him away permanently?"
"He's back."
"Give him a kiss for me after we hang up."
"I will."
"And I'm sending you a kiss also," Orli tells me. Sure enough, he makes a big kissing sound. "There, that's for you."
"Thank you, love."
"I'll call you tomorrow; I promise."
"Okay. I love you, Orli."
"Love you, too. Love you so much."
We take about two or three more minutes to finally hang up the phone, then I turn the light back off and follow through on my promise by giving Pokey a kiss on the head. "That's from Orli," I tell the cat. He meows, not quite understanding what I told him. "Goodnight, Pokey."
I settle back in for sleep with a smile on my face. When I wake
up in the morning, I'll work on my plan to make Orli feel better.
