sit on a bench silently licking and watching people go by, enjoying that incredible feeling after you’ve finally slept with someone you wanted to and it turned out to be even better than you hoped it would be.
People walked by with the joie de vivre all Angelenos have, at least in that neighborhood. People were fit, healthy, attractive, and living their dream, or at least trying to live their dream. It was Sunday, and they were busy working up their enthusiasm for the coming week. Each morning they would face possible disappointment (no callbacks, no job interviews, no call from the Academy) but would march themselves to lunchtime yoga and drink a green juice and look forward to the next opportunity to Break In or Go Big or Make It Work. Maybe this week they would meet The One. Los Angeles runs on youthful optimism, endorphins, and Capital Letters.
Tom licked his cone in silence, which Nina appreciated. First, because the ice cream deserved respect, and second, because her favorite sound was no sound at all. It couldn’t last, however, and Tom broke it.
“I really like your name,” he said. “Are you named after someone in the family?”
Nina laughed. “Well, until three and a half weeks ago, the only family I had was my mom and the nanny that raised me, but no, I’m named after a girl in a photo.”
“A photo?” He looked quizzically at her, and Nina explained.
“My mom’s a photographer. There’s a girl in a famous Ruth Orkin photo called American Girl in Italy whose name was Ninalee, and she always loved that name.” Nina shrugged. “She also likes those drawings by Hirschfeld, you know, where he hid the name Nina somewhere in the picture . . . ?” She ground to a halt. Her ice cream was dripping and Tom was staring at her and maybe she was being boring.
Tom was indeed gazing at her. He had been thinking her voice sounded like a bell, much lower than most women’s voices, imagining the sound waves of it bouncing off his skin, remembering how it had sounded saying his name, and suddenly all he wanted to do was go back to the apartment.
He blushed. “Did you ask me something?” He coughed. “I’m sorry, I lost track of what you were saying.”
Nina’s mouth twisted. “Wow, I guess it wasn’t really that interesting.”
He sputtered. “No, it was. It was about photography, and about your name . . . I got distracted by your voice . . .” He reached for her hand. “I’ll be honest, looking at you makes me lose my mind. Can we go back to your place?” He lowered his voice. “Please?”
Nina laughed at him and stood up. “Yes,” she said. “I think we’ve had quite enough of the great outdoors for one day.”
“How did your father die?” It was early evening now, and Tom was gazing up at the ceiling, Nina’s head on his shoulder. They hadn’t said very much for several hours, but now they were tired and ready to talk.
Nina shrugged against him, her hair tickling his neck. “Heart attack.”
“And you really never knew him, or knew anything about him?”
“No. It seems weird now, but at the time it was just the way it was.”
“So, you were kind of an orphan.”
“No, not really. My mom was away, working, but we heard from her a lot, and she came to visit. I had no dad, but I did have a nanny who was as good—if not better—than any biological mom might have been. I wasn’t raised in a box.”
“Really?”
“Actually,” said Nina, “that’s not true. I was lucky. I had a Carnation Condensed Milk carton for the first few years, then upgraded to a refrigerator box once I got too tall to stand up in the first one.”
“Those refrigerator boxes are sturdy.” Tom knew she was dodging the question, but he didn’t want to push her. “And it explains how you’re so comfortable in this single bed.” He’d found the lack of space challenging, but he’d worked around it.
Nina nodded, liking the way Tom was always ready to be silly. Silly is a highly underrated quality. “Mine was European, too, so it was reinforced for export.”
“Fancy.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t fancy, but it was home, you know?” She paused. “Actually, I grew up here, right in the neighborhood. I’ve barely left the East side of LA my whole life.”
He laughed. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to be reinforced for export.”
Nina smiled. “Do you travel