Bellamy's Redemption

“Oh please! You don’t know him? Really?” she asked. “That guy who sells that self-cleaning computer keyboard?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know who you mean,” I said firmly.

“Never mind. Oh look! More wheat grass shots.”

“You can have mine.”

“Thank you, Emma. Sorry I melted down on you. You just can’t imagine the type of shit people try to pull on shows like this. I’ve been doing this now for two and a half years and I could write a book about the way these supposed love-seekers try to cheat the system. Isn’t that terrible? We’re talking about love, what’s more sacred than love, and yet people want to screw with each other. They have someone back at home, but they want to be here and be on television, and get all the perks that come with being on a show like this. It’s sickening.”

“Yep.”

“They’re time wasters, on top of being crooks. I don’t know what’s worse. Besides love, what’s more precious than time? Nothing.”

“Yeah,” I said. I nodded, concentrating on the blackberries I was eating, trying to ignore her.

“So I have to assume the worst, you know. Guilty until proven innocent. As much as that sucks.” She downed her wheatgrass shot and mine, and then stood up, checking her watch. “We’d better get our facials taken care of before it gets any later.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Sorry again for blowing up at you,” she said just before we were about to part ways. “I didn’t know you were going through a family crisis.”

“Um, did my brother say anything else?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Just anything about how everyone is doing. Since, you know, we’ve all been so worried about my uncle.”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head from side to side and picked a seed out of her teeth. “Actually, yes. I said I wasn’t going to take any messages, but I guess considering the circumstances, I can share this with you. He asked me to tell you that they all can’t wait for you to be home in Chicago, enjoying

red pepper pesto pizza with you. I guess it’s some kind of inside joke with your family?”

“Yes. Something like that,” I said. My heart felt all warm and fuzzy.

“Well, if you make it to Meet-the-Fam dates, which I’m totally sure you will, you’ll have to be sure to serve up some of that famous pizza to Bellamy.”

“Right,” I said.

**********

The limo drive home was very annoying. All the girls were holding 8x10 glossy pictures of the heart they had formed in the sky, framed in silver frames. The frames were engraved with the words High in the Sky for my Special Guy! Lovin’ bein’ on Bellamy’s Redemption. Each frame had a smaller frame affixed to the lower right hand corner, holding a close up of Bellamy, his face distorted by the air pressure. They’d all worn puffy skydiving getups, each in bright fuchsia. It had been a big attraction with crowds gathering to gawk and take photos. Irene and I had missed it all since we’d been busy being nurtured into oblivion.

“That was so exhilarating,” said Vanessa. She was snuggled up against Bellamy, having apparently aced her day with him.

“Yes it was,” said Bellamy. “Best day of my life. So far.”

Shar was not so happy. For reasons unexplained she was wearing some old sweat pants instead of the shorts she’d had on earlier. A greasy hooded sweatshirt covered her orange bra. She wasn’t speaking to anyone.

“What’s up with her?” I whispered to Deb.

“She had an accident,” she whispered back.

“An accident?”

“Yes. An accident. As in, an accident. In her shorts. She could barely jump out of the plane. She was a total disaster.”

“Are you talking about me?” asked Shar.

“No,” Deb and I said in unison.