Installation 23: Growing Pains previous
It was a slushy Wednesday afternoon when Corey Reeves and Corey Feldman cloistered themselves away in a suite at The Biosphere, a pricey hotel located downtown. Corey Reeves had called in sick for the day, which wasn’t hard to do when in a department of one, and Corey Feldman had created a fake meeting with corporate honchos, even going so far as to put it on his calendar and to ask Kerry Thompson to prepare “collateral” to give to the attendees.
The affair was a few months old. It started with a clandestine afternoon spent in a supply closet pressed up against the rough, brown paper towels used in the restrooms. Corey Reeves wasn’t quiet sure what to make of what was happening to her - the more she had sex with Corey Feldman, the more she wanted him. It was quite unlike any relationship she’d ever been in and she'd started to wonder if perhaps this was what it was like to find a soulmate.
At The Biosphere, she languished in bed wearing the bathrobe provided by the hotel and watched as Corey flipped through channels on TV, finally settling on a rerun of Growing Pains. He eased back onto the bed and upended a bottle of champagne.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Corey said.
“Uh... I like this show,” Corey said. “Did you know that chick Tracey Gold is messed up? I mean, in real life?”
“Let’s not talk about Tracey Gold. Let’s talk about us.”
“OK,” he said. “I think this take-off-work-and-fuck thing works pretty well, don’t you?”
Corey sighed. “I guess. But sometimes a girl likes to have a little dinner…”
“That's why they invented room service. I was thinking of getting some potato skins myself.” He reached over her for the room-service menu.
“I meant a real date,” she said. “Not hiding in closets or hotels.”
“Babe, I’m getting married in five months.”
“But what does that mean for us?”
“It means,” Corey threw the menu down and sat up. “This is just a temporary thing.”
Corey got up and started fixing her hair as if she hadn’t heard what he said.
“In fact,” he continued. “We have an appointment to meet with a florist later today.”
“You and who?”
“Stephanie. My fiancé. I’ve told you a million times her name is Stephanie.”
“You have to decide on the flowers together? That’s the woman’s job. I would never make you do that if you were marrying me.”
“Stephanie and I like to make decisions together,” Corey said.
“So what did she decide about you sleeping with me?”
Corey jumped off the bed, picked up his pants and jammed a leg into them.
“What are you doing?”
“Forget the potato skins,” he said. “I’ve gotta go.”
“No,” Corey said, trying to stop him from getting his other leg into the pants. “Stay with me. We paid for the room, let’s drink champagne and give each other backrubs.”
“Look,” Corey said. “If I wanted to cuddle, I’d go home to Stephanie.”
“You bastard,” Corey said, although with little enthusiasm. “You know I’m in love with you.”
“I don’t need this static,” Corey said and picked up his keys from the dresser.
“Wait!” Corey said. “Just… tell me about the show again. The Apprentice… that day in the boardroom. What was it like? What did Trump say? What did you say?”
Corey wavered at the door. Corey saw this as her opportunity and dropped the robe.
“Don’t leave,” she said.
He stayed. They had round two as the children from Growing Pains bleated in the background.
Across town, Phoebe was just stepping out of her pajamas for the first time in over a week. She'd gotten a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, noted that her hair was so greasy it looked wet and decided that things had gone on long enough. But before she could turn on the water, the door buzzer went off. Phoebe wavered. It buzzed again. She put her pajamas back on, found her robe and went over to the intercom.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“It's Karl Blackbird,” a voice shouted over street traffic sound. “From The Museum.”
Phoebe hit the button that unlocked the front door of the building and stood uncertainly in her living room. There was a knock at the door and she opened it just enough to see Karl holding a bouquet of carnations.
“What are you doing here?” Phoebe asked.
“It's my lunch break,” Karl said. “Can I come in for a minute?”
Phoebe opened the door, forgetting that her apartment looked like a hotel room after a weekend cocaine binge. Tissues and food wrappers littered the floor, the TV flashed images on mute and there was a strange odor of rotten Chinese food mixed with cat litter coming from the kitchen. If it phased Karl, he didn't show it, settling in on the couch, which was festooned with blankets and pillows meant to serve as Phoebe's “Escape the World” nest.
“I suppose you've come here,” Phoebe said. “Because you heard about what happened with James Trehorn.”
“Maybe,” Karl said.
“Well, I don't need pity. Actually, I've been sick, that's why I haven't been in to work.”
“OK,” Karl said and thrust the flowers at Phoebe. “These are for you.”
“Carnations,” Phoebe said. “You really shouldn't have.”
Karl looked down at his shoes and Phoebe was instantly remorseful, realizing that no human contact in over a week quickly makes one wobbly in social graces.
“Want to watch TV?” she asked.
“OK.”
Phoebe flipped around, settling on a rerun of Growing Pains.
“I used to love this show when I was a kid,” she said. “Did you?”
“I never watched it,” Karl said. “But I was weird about what I watched on TV as a kid. Who's on it?”
“Kirk Cameron.”
“Oh, that guy,” Karl said. “I remember reading a Mad Magazine parody of this show.”
“Kirk Cameron is an evangelical maniac now,” Phoebe said, settling a bit more comfortably into her half of the nest.
“Yeah,” Karl said. “Proving that everything bad you think about child stars is true.”
Phoebe laughed and noticed that it was sunny outside.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I've got hot dogs.”
“I love hot dogs,” Karl said. “I don't even care if they're the cheap kind made out of eye lids and lips.”
“Oh, they're not,” Phoebe said. “They're Hebrew National.”
“Even better,” Karl said.
Phoebe got up and went to the kitchen to boil water. Soon she and Karl were dining on a lunch of hot dogs, potato chips and alphabet soup. The rerun of Growing Pains turned into a second rerun and after that an episode of Dawson's Creek.
Meanwhile, back at The Museum, another pointless round of meetings began.