I give this man credit. He spent four hours driving from Vegas last night, and then another hour driving from Laguna Beach to my place to pick me up this afternoon. Now he's willing to brave Saturday stop-and-go traffic on LA's west side to get to Marina del Rey.
I would make a joke to him about how that's love, like I used to do when he would surprise me with an impromptu weekend road trip somewhere that involved a freeway traffic jam on our way out of the city, but the words become stuck in my throat. Thank God they do. As familiar as Phoenix is, and even with the moments last weekend and already today that have transported me back to old times, now is now.
There will be no uttering of the L-word during this date, not even in the lighthearted, kidding around sense. Not with him. We have a history filled with it, and I took the word and the concept it symbolizes for granted too many times. I won't sprinkle it into casual conversation with him.
"I haven't heard this song in years," I say instead, opting for a safer comment on the music. It sparks memories of a playlist he made me when we started dating, and of the shiny, dreamlike bubble my life was to me then. This was the first song on it.
Phoenix smiles and keeps his eyes on the road. Neither action tells me if he recalls the significance of the music filling our ears, so I let it go for now.
We're four songs deep into our drive when I can't ignore it anymore. The music isn't a coincidence. This is the same playlist. If he's using it to evoke warm feelings and breathless memories of the days I listened to these songs on repeat, smiling and humming along while I lost myself in the honeymoon stage of our relationship, it's working.
What are you doing to me, Nix?
I decide to call him on it. "This is our playlist."
"You recognize it." He sounds happy about this, and his eyes tell the same story when they light up. Did he think I would forget?
"Of course I do."
The sequence of these songs is ingrained in my mind for eternity. "Thinking Out Loud," the one that became our song, should be five tracks from now. We'd best be in Marina del Rey before it comes on, since I can't be sure how I'll handle hearing the melody and lyrics while I sit next to Phoenix. I've avoided listening to it since we crumbled, and I always lunge to change the station any time I hear a note or two on the radio. I used to assume it would be our wedding song if we got married, and that was before I found out he'd planned to propose.
The traffic gods grant me mercy, because Phoenix signals to turn into a parking lot at Fisherman's Village before we reach that part of the playlist. Once we're parked, he exits the vehicle and is at the passenger side in a flash. He takes my hand as he helps me out, my palm easily finding its place against his as though we've still been doing this every day for the last six years in another timeline.
I keep hold of his hand while he leads me from the parking lot to the boardwalk that runs along the harbor. As we stroll past the brightly colored shops and restaurants, I scan the signs for anything that could be our destination.
"Are we going to a restaurant here?" I ask. It seems like the answer to this would be yes, but it's also an early hour to be eating.
"Not quite, but there will be dinner later. I think we should check out the yacht over there."
"Yacht?" I scan the harbor. My eyes land on the first yacht I see.
I'm too intrigued by the sight of the boat and that we're heading in its direction to ask more questions. Once we're closer, I notice a man with an iPad standing on the dock. He glances up at us when we approach.
"Ms. Sharpe and Mr. Alden?" he inquires.
"That's us," Phoenix confirms. He shakes the man's hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both. I'm Daniel, one of the crew here and your host for tonight." Daniel extends his hand to me. "Happy birthday, and welcome aboard. Go ahead and follow me this way."
This isn't the appropriate time for the "I'm on a boat" song from an old Saturday Night Live sketch to pop into my mind, but I can't help it. The song is forever linked with my memory of the last time Phoenix and I were in Marina del Rey together, leaving the restaurant where we'd celebrated Torin's birthday. It was a couple of weeks before the Summerlong premiere. Phoenix didn't drink anything at dinner because he was driving, but I was cheerfully buzzed from a few cocktails. Being stone sober didn't keep him from agreeing when I insisted we would own one of the boats docked in the harbor one day, or from chuckling and singing the silly song we'd learned from late-night SNL reruns with me after I declared, "I'm on a boat, everybody look at me!" When we walked past a lounge and I heard "Thinking Out Loud" playing inside of it, I asked him if he wanted to dance. There on the boardwalk, under the night sky and shimmering moon, he took me in his arms and danced with me until the song was over. We seemed invincible then.
The images in my mind's eye make it impossible to suppress a grin as we trail behind Daniel. I lean in to whisper to Phoenix. "How long until one of us has our arms spread wide on the starboard bow?"
The corners of his mouth twitch when he recognizes the song reference. "It's that or flying this boat to the moon somehow," he whispers back, amusement sparkling in his eyes.
He puts his arm around my shoulder and we continue following Daniel, who has been narrating something about different parts of the boat while we weren't paying attention. Daniel stops walking when we arrive at a deck with cushioned seats and a dining table that's under the shade of a canopy. Phoenix leads me to a seat on the side of the deck, which overlooks the water. We sit down with his arm still around me.
"May I start you off with some champagne or sparkling cider?" Daniel asks.
"I'll have the sparkling cider," I reply.
"Same for me, thank you," Phoenix says.
"Coming right up."
Once Daniel leaves us and disappears into the ship's interior, Phoenix moves his arm from my shoulder and turns to look at me. "Are you sure you don't want champagne for your birthday? There are a few more verses of that song to go."
He's making light of the subject, but the silent form of communication we used to have kicks in for me now.
"It's not because I'm worried about having champagne when you don't drink anymore. I don't drink much in general these days, and I try not to when I'm writing a book. The Vegas drinks were an Ava thing." The first one was, anyway, but I'll leave it at this.
"You've always been so disciplined with your writing, and I've always admired you for it. I wish I could have been the same way a lot sooner in my life. I'm sorry I wasn't."
He gazes into my eyes as he says this. I'm startled by the regret and tenderness I hear and see, and it's only the approaching footsteps that keep me from falling headfirst into a wave pool of my feelings.
"Your sparkling ciders, and a little something to start you off before we head out on the water in a minute or two," Daniel announces. He places a tray on the small table next to our seat, then hands us our drinks and moves a charcuterie platter from the tray to the table. "Enjoy. I'll be back in a little while to see if there's anything you need."
He leaves us again. It dawns on me that the only other people I saw on board while following Daniel through the ship were crew members. No one else has joined us on the deck. If we're leaving shore in a minute, then Phoenix and I are the only passengers. I'm aware of the public dinner cruises that depart from the marina, but this doesn't appear to be one of them.
"Is this a private charter?" I ask.
Phoenix's face takes on an expression so angelic, I half expect a halo to appear above his head. "The crew is here. That's probably good, because we'd be stuck at the dock if I had to steer this thing."
Along with a few over-the-top romantic gestures today, I guess he's also trotting out his inner comedian. I shake my head and try again.
"We aren't waiting for other passengers?"
"Not unless a sea lion hops on board. It's disappointing when you consider it means you're stuck talking to only me until sunset and won't meet your dream guy on the boat, unless that's Daniel, but--"
"Oh my God, stop." I place my hand over his mouth before he can get another word out, even though I'm on the verge of either dissolving into giggles or kissing him.
A laugh escapes me first. He gently turns my hand and presses his mouth against my knuckles, and my world cartwheels somewhere into euphoria. It's like being tipsy in the best possible way, minus the actual alcohol.
"Here I thought taking me out for my birthday meant you made dinner plans."
"I did. They'll serve dinner around six, over at the table." He points at the dining table a few feet away, as if I missed the setup when we walked past it.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it." I reach for Phoenix's hand, then lace my fingers with his. "Thank you for all of this. I can't believe you chartered a yacht."
"It isn't quite a gondola ride down the canals in Venice, but I thought asking about your passport and if you were up for some really long flights this weekend might be pushing my luck. Plus, who wants to hang out at LAX in the Tom Bradley terminal on their birthday?"
At first I think it's another of his jokes, but then I realize how serious his voice sounds in comparison to a minute ago. "Nice try. You weren't actually considering a trip to Italy, I hope."
"You used to talk about wanting to go. I wish I'd taken you."
He doesn't seem like he's kidding. Never mind that I'm about to hyperventilate at the idea of him dropping thousands of dollars on plane tickets and hotels to take me to Venice for my birthday and what is technically our second first date. Or it could be our second second date, if last weekend counts as our second first date, but I'm not certain it does. I don't even know anymore. Then again, he paid for a private chartered dinner cruise of the coastline on this yacht tonight. My brain is a runaway freight train and I need to find the brake.
"I'll visit Venice one day." I keep my tone light and say "I'll" instead of "we'll," because now I'm scared he'll drop everything and book us a European vacation at the first sign of encouragement from me. I enjoy and appreciate the princess treatment, but I also need to be responsible and rein him in before he gets carried away. "Did you make it to the canals any of the times you were there for work?"
I can't remember what films he was in Venice for now, because I didn't watch the ones that came out after we broke up. But I recall something about him and a movie and Venice, or maybe I saw a trailer from something shot on location there. The details aren't important, because the point is to shift his focus.
"No," he admits. "I wasted the experience. I was too messed up back then to do anything but go to clubs at night and pass out in my hotel room. The Venice Film Festival a few years ago was my last time there, but I don't remember much of it other than the film I was there for getting panned."
A memory of Ava's glee about Phoenix's downfall in Venice suddenly floods my mind. She said the critics who attended his film's showing ripped it to shreds, and she insisted it was karma coming for him. North Node was screened at the film festival there. The fallout related to it that ripped through the tabloids happened a week later, after Phoenix was back in California.
I actively avoided entertainment news then, but some things made it onto my radar. Most of what I caught by accident had to do with physical blows Phoenix instigated and exchanged with North Node's director, Chaz Beckenbauer, outside of a bar in Newport Beach. There was also a video of a producer and cast mate pulling him away from Chaz, blood smeared on his hands, while he screamed and swore at different people and made a few heavily bleeped-out threats. Grainy photos of him passed out in a hospital emergency room were published later, along with a flurry of accounts about his drinking and drug use, and his belligerent behavior while shooting North Node and in Venice. Then he dropped out of sight.
"What happened after North Node? You were never violent with anyone when I knew you, but there was everything that was all over the tabloids, and then you disappeared."
The question is out of my mouth before I consider how much it could change the tone of our evening, and that there's noway off this boat for a couple of hours.
༺â༻ ༺â༻ ༺â༻
Excellent question, Del. Get ready for the revelations. Del is about to learn what the tabloids never did, including why Phoenix attacked North Node's director, where he went after, and some other key things.
A note about their song, Thinking Out Loud. Yes, the song by Ed Sheeran. In case you're wondering why it's an older song, it's because Del and Phoenix started dating eight years ago. Based on when I'm publishing this, it would have been released as a single in the US less than a year before their first date, so it lines up with their timeline. I almost skipped naming a song because pop culture references quickly become outdated. Maybe I'll go back and make a song title up, so it's timeless, but I also like having a real song that people recognize. I welcome your thoughts about this!