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Jessica: Hey, Gil. We need to talk. Please text me back when you get the chance
Gil: Hey, I’m free now. Something wrong?
Jessica: Can we meet for dinner?
Gil: Yeah, of course. We can meet at 8. Where do you want to go?
Jessica: Campagnola would be nice
Gil: Campagnola it is. See you then!
Jessica arrived for dinner in an off-the-shoulder wine velvet dress which she paired with her lace-up heels and jewelry to the nines. She walked in and sat down at the table waiting for Gil to arrive.
“Hey, Jess. Sorry, I’m late. Getting home took longer than I expected it to.” As he sat down, he caught the scent of her perfume. She was wearing his favorite; Armani Code.
She looked down from watching him sit, dread and nervousness filling her chest. “It’s fine.”
“Really? No snide remark? No joke about my ' old car '? Is something wrong?” He put out his hand for her to reach, which she accepted. He could feel something was off, causing worry to set in his stomach. “Hey, look at me. You know you can tell me anything.”
“Im planning on writing a memoir.” She looked up to search his face for any sort of reaction, finding none. Which, in her mind, meant something bad. “I know, I know. It’s a terrible idea. But Birdie was cut off, causing her to be as desperate as ever and when she realized it was wrong, it was too late. It was going to happen at some point but it’s best it comes from me. Nobody knows the surgeon’s ex-wife better than I do, unfortunately.”
“I beg to differ on that one. Jess, are you sure about this? You swore up and down you’d never write one. This isn’t you. What changed?”
“I told you already. Birdie-”
“Unh unh.” His cold interruption surprised her. He was never one to interrupt her in such a manner. He only ever interrupted people that way when he felt they were about to bullshit him. “Birdie is a pain, I know. But no one can stop Jessica Whitly from getting what she wants. If you didn’t want this memoir to happen, you wouldn’t let it. By any means. So I’ll ask again: What changed?”
She scoffed, letting go of his hand. She knew he was right. A feeling of vulnerability set over her as she began, “They need to know. I’ve been quiet for over 20 years and that silence has cost me...everything. Forget what Martin did. Forget the fact that my family denounced me. My silence is what caused those whispers. Those winks. Sly remarks. I’ve dealt with much more than I had to because I chose to stay silent. But, Gil, there are too many skeletons in my closet. I have to let them out. I can’t sit idly by anymore and let the world wonder.”
“Jessica, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. I thought we talked about that already. You're not the one that did all those things. Out of everyone, you and the kids are the last people that should have to explain. You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault.”
“I know that, Gil. You remind me of that every chance you get. So much to the point that it’s seared into my brain. But that doesn’t get rid of all the guilt I have. I know I didn’t do anything in particular, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn't have to try and make good on their behalf.”
“Hi! Welcome to Campagnola! My name is Gabriella and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you all started with something to drink?” The couple stared at the pretty waitress blankly, a moment of silence passing while the two processed the question.
“H-hi, Gabriella. Yes, I’ll have a Martini. Dry.”
“Okay! Gotcha. And for you, sir?” Gabriella’s large puffs of hair shook when she turned with a smile.
“Bourbon for me. Double, please.”
“Alright! I’ll go get those drinks for you.”
“Thank you.” Gil sighed, turning back to Jessica. He knew she meant well but this was not the way to go about making reparations. “Jessica, I know you. You’re gonna do what you want no matter what I say. Just as your children do.” Jessica turned away trying to hide the smile creeping up on her face, “You wouldn’t even consider telling me unless you wanted an excuse to not do this. You yourself already said this was a terrible idea. Jess, please. Don’t exploit yourself for them. The public will find a reason to hate you even if you put out this memoir. And what about the press? You and I both remember how much you hated it. After this, the press will double down. Triple, even. Is that really what you want?”
“Gil,” She let out a frustrated sigh. He knew her too well. But, after all, that was why she came to him. “No. That’s not what I want. But how the hell-”
“Here are your drinks. Do we need a minute for appetizers?”
“Uh, I think we can skip that and order the main course,” She looked at Gil who nodded and proceeded to order, “I’ll have the Penne Vodka please, and thank you.”
“And I’ll have the uhh,” He paused to look at the menu full of expensive meals, “I’ll have the Pollo Alla Salvia.”
“Okay. I’ll take your menus and get those orders in for ya!”
“Thank you!” They said in unison.
Jessica waited until she was gone to speak yet again, “How the hell am i supposed just make this go away? These publishers don't care about the damage they do. They have no heart!”
“Isn’t that what people say about you?” He reached for his drink, taking a sip and feeling the warmth spread through him. “Be that evil Jessica Whitly they think you are. Cold and heartless. And if that doesn’t work, you have some of the best lawyers in the world working for you. I’m sure they can work something out. I’ll be there for you the whole time, Jess. Always.”
“What about Birdie? The whole reason this is happening is that some publisher had a deal she couldn’t refuse . Her words, not mine.”
“What about Birdie? You were able to thrive after Martin, being denounced, and a pandemic. What’s her excuse? As far as I’m concerned, whatever she has going on is not your problem.”
“She’s still my sister, Gil.”
“Being sisters didn’t stop her from neglecting you. Or trying to air out your dirty laundry as if it’s her place.”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“Still? After 20+ years? When are you gonna get used to it, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, whatever. Will I have to get used to you being late too?” She sipped her martini coyly, receiving a chuckle from Gil in the process.
“Aaaand she’s back.”
The conversation flowed freely until the food arrived, “Oh..kay. Food’s all here! We have the Pollo Alla Salvia for you and the Penne Vodka for you, ma’am. Is there anything else I can get y'all?”
“Some refills would be nice,” Jessica suggested, making the three of them chuckle
“Yes, ma'am! I put in the orders already, I'm just waiting for the bartender." Gabriella smiled with the tray to her middle, smiling brightly.
"You're an angel. Thank you so much, I think we're all set!"
"Aw, thanks! If there's anything you need, just let me know! I'll go get those drinks for you."
"Thank you, again," Gil added his two cents as he took his knife and fork to dig in. Drinks were brought and taken away as well as plates once the two were finished. They split the bill and gave Gabriella quite a generous tip. They walked out of the restaurant and into Gil’s car.
“Do you wanna play some music?” Gil opened the glove box and pulled out a book of CDs. Jessica had picked her favorite Sade album and let it play as they made their way to the Milton Estate in comfortable silence, her soft hand covering Gil’s on the gear stick. Once they had arrived, Gil opened the door for her and helped her out.
They made their way up to the door to say goodbye as teenagers do. Jessica got her keys and opened the door, halfway stepping in when Gil stopped her to ask a question. “So, let’s say you were to write that memoir. Would I be in it?”
Jessica laughed, shaking her head in the process. “Goodnight, Gil.” And with that, she kissed him on the cheek and closed the door behind herself.
“Goodnight, Jess.” He whispered and walked away to his car, his question still lingering.