It had been an awful mistake, taking Karen to the exhibit. If he could do the day over, anything else. Tom hadn't told him. A small, screened area, devoted to "Bombshell." He could see the sense of it - "Bombshell" was a current hit, and definitely in the "traditional Broadway" style of musical that was being celebrated. But Karen was a walking wound, these days, and this was a lot of salt.
Jimmy had tried to steer her past, when he'd seen. Karen had insisted. Had made him rent the headphones, to listen while the video played. Tom's score, Julia's book. A mannequin of Ivy in white. Then the video, a little, totally weird, warped history of the production, with a silly fruity voice narrating over stills, mostly. Shots from the workshop, "fraught with difficulties," intoned the voice, over a shot of Karen falling off a platform. Stills of Rebecca Duvall in Boston. One shot of Karen in costume, held for a second before Ivy and Broadway took over, the voice noting that "Karen Cartwright, understudy for Rebecca Duvall, completed the Boston run; Ivy Lynn, who created the role in workshop, was brought back for the Broadway production, winning an Antoinette Perry Award for her performance as Marilyn Monroe."
The video ended with an actual film clip. Ivy, singing "Don't Forget Me." Jimmy didn't watch it, he watched Karen. She didn't take her eyes from the little screen. Nothing on her face. Nothing, as she watched herself practically wiped out of existence, in this show that had meant so much to her.
Jimmy hadn't thought he could hurt for her any more than he already did, but this was too much. "It's like you weren't anything to "Bombshell!" This totally sucks!" He was so angry for her. What did these idiots know, anyway?
Karen shook her head. "Let's face it, Jimmy, that's about right. Things might have been different, but they weren't. Can we please go get some sandwiches? You promised me a picnic in the park, and I'm hungry."
It was the most she'd said in weeks. "Sure. Me, too. Let's go."
So easy, playing Jay. Pour out what he felt for Karen in life to the Daisy Ivy created onstage. Speak to that. That was where he had the inside track, that was what he brought to the table. Jimmy knew he was going to be good in the role, the acting classes had helped, and had, as Ivy said they might, given him confidence. But acting wasn't his future. He had known, looking at those scores. There, with them. That was where.
They didn't know the neighborhood, had walked blocks to find a deli. Bought too many sandwiches, and laughed as they walked back to the park. When Jimmy took her hand, Karen hadn't pulled away, but clasped back.
Smoked turkey, ham and cheese, roast beef, shrimp salad. Pickles, potato chips. Little egg custards in foil cups. The deli had had chilled white wine, plastic cups and a corkscrew. Jimmy would have preferred beer, but wasn't about to say so.
They found a spot in the sun, spread the blanket, and the food on it. Karen reached for a sandwich, Jimmy took the hand. "Karen, I'm really sorry. You have to know know I didn't know. I'd never have – I'm – I love you – so much."
"I know, Jimmy. It's OK. I love you, too. You're the only good thing I have."
Eventually, Miranda had allowed herself to be torn from her bears, and they wandered, without plan. Derek lifted his daughter high to see the red panda, asleep on a branch. "Raccoon, Daddy? Funny big raccoon."
"No, darling, that's called a red panda. It is, however," reading the card, "related to raccoons, which makes you a very clever girl."
Miranda dissolved in giggles, shook her sturdy little body vigorously. "Not panda, Daddy. Panda bears! Silly Daddy." All three laughing as they left the funny raccoon, strolled toward the sea lions. More water and plexiglass, Miranda's eyes big, head tilting as two adults swam with a baby. "Mommy and Daddy and Manda!" she pointed.
Ivy scooped her up, squeezed, kissed her. "Yes, precious girl, just like Mommy and Daddy and Miranda. Can you say thank you to Daddy for giving Mommy the day off, so we could all come to the zoo?"
Set down, Miranda curtseyed gravely, then held out her hand. Derek shot a quizzical glance at Ivy, who shrugged; took the little hand in his. Miranda wagged their joined hands with all her might. "Thank you for zoo, Daddy!"
By the time they reached their Fifth Avenue flat, Paulette would have lunch ready. Derek pushed Miranda, who murmured "seepytired" as her eyelids closed.
"Oh, shit," Jimmy stopped gathering lunch remnants, and Karen looked behind her. No, no, no. Not now, not today, not them, not like this. She'd left Derek four messages, texted twice, before giving up. Too much, too desperate, despite the jauntiness she'd tried to assume. But she'd clung stubbornly to the conviction that Derek wouldn't, couldn't give up on her. Hadn't she been his muse? She knew she could be again. If she could just talk to him. But Derek obviously didn't intend to give her the chance, and she'd pinned her last hope on waylaying him at the benefit.
She wasn't ready, after the exhibit, didn't have her legs under her to deal with the happiness radiating from the little family group. They hadn't yet seen Karen and Jimmy. Could she escape? No, not realistic. That would look too weird, to everybody. Suck it up. Put on your best smile. Who said she couldn't act? She and Jimmy advanced.
Awkwardness all around. Karen squatted to peer at Miranda, still sleeping. "She's really beautiful," her eyes going first to Derek, whose "thanks" was unsmiling. Ivy said, "I hear you're cutting lots of demos – that's great, you have such a beautiful voice, they're lucky." A little hesitant, as if she had to fit the words together like puzzle pieces.
Karen smiled, added her own "thanks," feeling she'd swallowed a big lump of lead. Heavy in her gut, poisonous. At least Ivy hadn't seen the catalogues. Or if she had seen them, had the tact not to say so. Which was unlikely, since it was Ivy. Why wouldn't the blonde want to rub Karen's nose in her comedown? Ivy had Derek and wealth and stardom, a Tony, a beautiful baby girl. A starring role in the most talked about new musical since "Bombshell" and "Hit List" had flooded New York like twin tidal waves. Karen remembered the feeling of the world at her feet. Now at Ivy's feet. She, Karen, left with demos, modeling, Greenpoint anonymity. And Jimmy. Crumbs and scraps. She shouldn't feel that about Jimmy, but she sort of did, in her heart. You can't afford to feel that, she admonished herself. You need Jimmy, he's all you've got.
"Miranda's a pretty name," Jimmy offered. Derek and Ivy spoke together,
"One of Ivy's first paying gigs was a summer Shakespeare festival."
"It's Derek's mother's name." Laughing, again speaking over each other,
"And it was one of my first roles."
"Miranda was also my mother's name. She's Miranda Leigh."
Blue eyes opened. "Mandalee. Mommy, up!" Little arms stretched, Ivy bent and gathered her out of the stroller. Eye to eye with Jimmy, Miranda touched his face with a finger. "Not Daddy."
Jimmy laughed. "Got that right, kid. I guess you're pretty smart, huh?"
"Smart." Miranda nodded, serious. Ivy and Jimmy grinned at each other.
"Sorry about this, Ivy. Your day off, you don't need to see me. I should have thought about it – this is your turf. And the whole day was a mistake."
Ivy shook her head, shrugged, "It's Central Park, I don't own it. And what are the odds we'd meet up? What brought you up this way, though, can I ask? There are much closer parks in Brooklyn, aren't there?"
He winced. "Tom was talking about the exhibit. About musicals, at the museum? He didn't tell me they practically had a shrine to "Bombshell." I'd never have brought her." Both glanced, a little furtively, at Karen. Talking to Derek, who wore an impassive face. Ivy breathed in, out, and turned smiling back to Jimmy.
"You didn't return my calls," Karen tried a lightly chiding tone. Banter, right?
"I've been busy, Karen." No smile, the ball lay at his feet, not the slightest effort at a return.
"Derek, we need to talk."
"Maybe you do."
"OK, I do, then. Please, Derek. Please. There's so much I need to say to you."
He sighed. "I'll call you after we open, alright?."
"Can't we talk tomorrow? At the benefit?"
"I don't expect I'll have time." She was so crestfallen it was almost comical. Almost. Derek felt a faint twinge of guilt. Karen did have some right to think he'd be on her side. His fault.
"We'll see. Ivy, love, we should get Miranda home for lunch. Are you hungry, darling?"
Miranda nodded. "Hungry, Daddy."
A round of goodbyes. And that was over.
