Vanessa sat quietly in the passenger side of the Range Rover as it crept along the 101, virtually roasting in holiday weekend traffic. Taking the streets would have been faster, she considered, but then she wondered if maybe Naya wasn't really in any rush to get there. The ride should have taken 45 minutes tops. But as they rounded the 90-minute mark around Studio City, the silence heating up the overly air-conditioned interior was getting seriously awkward.
So Vanessa started counting Mini Coopers, always a favorite travel game, singing along to the radio, hoping Naya would chime in (she didn't), and finally settled on twiddling her fingers around the hem of her yellow sundress. She would do absolutely anything to keep herself from asking the million and one questions spinning through her always-restless subconscious.
It was the curse of an actor, really, she thought to herself. Over-thinking and over-analyzing. Actors kind of can't help looking at what and why how people do things because acting is essentially human psychology. Actors break their characters into three basic elements. First, their life or death want/need, second, what's in the way of getting what they want/need, and third, what they actually do to get it.
But the result is that actors really can't help but see this three part psychological short-hand flashing like big Technicolor billboards over the heads of every person they see. Objective. Obstacle. Action. Everyone wants something. Everyone has shit in the way. Everyone takes action to get what he or she wants. Or at least sometimes they do. At least sometimes they should.
"So what's in the huge box in the back?" Vanessa squeaked cheekily, hoping a little gossip about the presents might dissolve the stale air in the idle SUV. It had been maybe fifteen minutes since they'd run out of small talk. Yet silence seemed to get louder by the minute.
"Oh, it's a pair of ballet slippers. For the baby."
"Ballet slippers? Seriously Naya? Are you sure you're not packing a pint sized Lexus back there? That box is the size of a high chair, or a swing, or something, well bigger."
"Yea, I guess it is," Naya chuckled. "But I couldn't stop buying little things, so there are like ten little boxes in the big one and each one has something else in it, like a lavender and green sock monkey – it is so cute it has magnetic hands and feet, so you can pose him. I just love that he's not pink or blue. And there's a box of Converse All-star socks – so it looks like the baby is wearing high tops even before she'll need shoes. They come in like ten colors. Will totally match anything. And there is a Gucci denim jacket and a tooth fairy pillow and I don't know. Silly stuff. But the present. The real present- is a white pair of the smallest ballet slippers I could find. I ordered them from France actually. They are perfect."
Vanessa could hear the air catch in Naya's throat as she got to the last part. But she never looked over to the passenger seat. She never took her eyes off the road. Never took her hands off of ten and two o'clock on the wheel. But her voice gave her up like it always does. Naya Rivera sounds nothing like Santana Lopez when she really speaks. Santana speaks in the bottom of Naya's natural instrument. Santana's voice is low and gravelly and sounds like a chain smoker. But Naya's voice is more valley girl than seductress and the rising pitch of the gift list for Heather's baby eventually crashed into a sigh that made Vanessa's eyes well and her chest clench. Good god this day was going to be difficult.
Vanessa almost said that she was so sorry the last few months had been so hard on Naya. That she wished she'd been around more and been a better friend, especially since Naya heard about the baby the same way, and at the same time, as the general public. She almost said that she knew Heather was a wreck about Naya coming to the shower. She almost said that tongues were wagging about the guest list and that she was a little scared to be there herself. She almost said that she wished Lea and Dianna were in the car. Or that more of their mutual friends would be there. She almost said that she was honored to be on the short list of invites that were deemed family, or to be on the same list as Naya, actually. But then she realized that though she had been promoted, Naya had not (had she been demoted?) and that would not help at all.
Then she almost said it would all be okay, but she decided against it because she actually had no idea if that was true and she just couldn't bring herself to lie. Great actors are terrible liars actually. They're too busy deconstructing psychology to fake things most of the time. Real actors can't fake emotions because they're too busy playing action. Naya Rivera is a fabulous actor, so lying to her is pointless. She would see right through it; besides, there wasn't one thing on Vanessa's scrolling list of things to say that Naya didn't know anyway.
So Vanessa almost cracked a joke – because that's what she always did when she was uncomfortable and this moment was absolutely uncomfortable – but she controlled herself and didn't. Instead she just gently placed her hand on Naya's white linen covered thigh and patted it as gently as she could. When Naya's right hand dropped from two o'clock on the wheel to gently squeeze Vanessa's fingers, lift her hand, and place it back on the center console without turning her eyes from the road, Vanessa knew her silence was definitely the right choice. When she saw a single tear escape from under Naya's aviators however, she swallowed hard and prayed for something else. Anything else, really, to happen.
"I don't know if I can do this."
They were stopped at a light, not too far from the highway, and dangerously close to Heather and Taylor's house. And Forty-Five minutes late.
"Of course you can Nay. You're one of the strongest women I know. One of the strongest women, on earth, even."
With that, Naya looked at Vanessa and lifted her sunglasses up into her hair. Her eyes were bloodshot and teary but her make-up, immaculate as ever.
"That's some impressive water-proof amo you've got there girl!"
Naya smiled and turned back to the green light and pressed on.
"Besides, that's why you drove me. So that you couldn't run away. We're going to go and celebrate our beautiful friend and the beautiful little human she's making and eat lots of bad for us snacks and probably play a bunch of stupid games and…"
"And I think I might seriously throw up, Vanessa. I thought I was fine. I've been steeling myself for this day for months. But my physical response is not something I can control right now. Like, I'm afraid if I take my hands off of this steering wheel you're going to be able to see how hard I'm actually shaking."
"Then you choose not to. Come on Naya. It is mind over matter. Heather invited you because she wanted you to be here. Please let this day be about the baby, and nothing else, okay? That's all. Baby. Baby. Baby."
"That's exactly the problem. That baby is… I can't even explain it."
"You don't have to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. This day can be about whatever you need it to be, okay? You just tell me. What do you need and how can I help."
Naya smiled the sheepish smile very few ever got to see and grabbed Vanessa's hand.
"Thanks Shug. As soon as I figure out what that is, I'll let you know."
With that she threw the Range Rover into park, steadied her breath, and opened the door.