Page 88 of Gifted & Talented

(An epilogue)

The Players:

Meredith Wren, convicted felon

Lou, Narrative God

Scene: Exterior of a federal minimum-security prison popularly known as “Club Fed.” The day is bright and serene, with perhaps too much sun, were one in the business of complaining.

A security guard pushes open the facility door to reveal Meredith Wren, who steps beyond the almost laughably campus-resembling brick exterior in a slim pantsuit best described as brazen, a candy-apple red now infamous across American tabloids following the Wren heiress’s public self-surrender to federal authorities.

Around her neck is an unattended tie, the chiffon dress shirt below left louchely gaping, revealing traces of a leisurely tan.

Meredith squints for a moment into the sun before spotting Lou, who leans against the gate outside, waiting. As they lock eyes, Lou shifts to her feet, nodding in greeting.

Lou: I hope you were the groom.

Meredith: What?

Lou: I said I hope you were the groom. You know. Because of your outfit.

Meredith: What’s wrong with my outfit?

Lou: Nothing.

Meredith: This is how you greet me? Gillian would never.

Lou: Seriously? Meredith. It’s a line? From a movie?

Meredith: I’ve been in prison. When would I have seen a movie?

Lou: It’s not a new movie!

Meredith: What are you even saying to me right now?

Lou: Never mind. Come on, I’m parked over there.

Lou gestures and moves as if to walk. Meredith, however, lifts a hand to shade her eyes from the sun, pointedly unmoving.

Lou, with a heavy sigh, withdraws a pair of oversized sunglasses from her purse. She hands them to Meredith, who puts them on.

Meredith: Took you long enough. Were you hoping for corneal damage?

Lou: Don’t make me answer that.

Meredith: Fine.

Meredith starts walking. Lou rolls her eyes to an imaginary mockumentary camera and follows.

Lou: You look ridiculous, you know.

Untrue. Meredith looks deeply cool.

Meredith: Do I?

Lou: No. But you should. You deserve to.

From the parking lot, several camera shutters click as a mob of voices begins shouting “Meredith! Over here!”

Meredith: I think under the circumstances justice has been served.

Lou: You would think that.

Meredith holds up a hand to the crowd of journalists and photographers, gesturing “no comment” with the apathy of a celebrated pop star.

Lou: So… how was it?

Lou struggles a bit to keep up with Meredith, who is wearing a pair of stilettos. Lou is wearing Birkenstocks with her hair in a topknot. Her blazer has only one small stain.

Meredith: I would have liked a more diverse array of periodicals.

Lou: Uh, it was prison.

Meredith: Right, that’s what I said.

Lou: Boy, we really should eat the rich.

Meredith: I don’t disagree. Though under the circumstances I’m not opposed to some light hypocrisy.

Lou shakes her head.

Lou: I can’t believe they let you out early.

Meredith: Well, you know, good behavior.

Lou: That sounds like something that applies to you?

Meredith: I think we both know I’ve behaved much worse.

They pause just before they reach Lou’s SUV, which is slightly nicer than her previous car, but hardly luxury.

Lou: By the way, I took the liberty of collecting your personal effects.

JAMIE AMMAR, celebrated investigative journalist with a recent seven-figure book deal, sits in the front seat of Lou’s SUV. He lifts a hand in greeting when Meredith turns her head.

Meredith glances at Lou, who shrugs innocently before getting into the driver’s seat. Meredith strides casually around to the passenger side as Jamie rolls down the window.

Jamie: Funny seeing you here.

Meredith: You’re expecting me to sit in the back?

Jamie: I get carsick.

Meredith: That’s absurd.

Meredith drops her sunglasses to peer into the back seat.

Meredith: Is that a child in this car?

MONSTER, a small monster, currently sits in his car seat, kicking the back of Lou’s chair and singing something that might be fragments of “Wheels on the Bus.”

Jamie: Oh, is that a child?

Jamie turns to look over his shoulder.

Jamie: Interesting.

Meredith: Very funny.

Jamie: What do you think, shall we keep it?

Meredith: Stop.

Jamie: We can’t just leave it here, Meredith. There are criminals here.

Lou: One less, now!

Meredith purses her lips with a sigh, glancing between Lou and Jamie.

Meredith: This is very unromantic, you know.

Jamie leans toward her, resting his elbows on the open car window.

Jamie: I disagree.

Meredith: On what grounds?

Jamie: Well, I’ve come to collect you, haven’t I?

Meredith: You didn’t even drive!

Jamie: No, but I waited for you.

Meredith: For eight months.

Jamie: And? In this economy that’s nothing to sniff at.

Meredith: Is this supposed to be sweeping me off my feet?

Jamie: Not remotely, no.

Meredith: Good. You’d be doing a very poor job.

Meredith slides her sunglasses back on and glances at the brick campus beyond the parking lot, taking it in for a moment.

Jamie: Longing for the solitude of prison?

Meredith: At the moment? A little.

Lou leans in to address Meredith over Jamie.

Lou: Get in, Wren. You’re late for a shareholders’ meeting.

Meredith frowns.

Meredith: What’s that supposed to mean?

Lou: You thought I was going to give you a personal day just because you’re getting out of prison? It’s Monday, you’re going to work like the rest of us.

Meredith: You can’t be serious.

Lou: We have a conference call at nine PDT.

Meredith: With who?

Jamie: Whom.

Meredith: Journalism is dead, Jamie, move on!

Lou: We’re contracting with a new manufacturer. The current one’s too, you know, genocide-y.

Meredith: But that’s going to cost a fortune.

Lou: I know, right? Luckily I got my technology officer practically for free.

Meredith turns to Jamie with one brow lifted.

Meredith: So we’re going to live off your salary, then, I take it?

Jamie: Assuming you get in the car, yes.

Meredith: But you’re freelance. You don’t even have insurance.

Jamie: I know, right? The romance is palpable.

Meredith sighs.

Meredith: What kind of state are my accounts in?

Lou: Abysmal.

Meredith: My condo?

Jamie: Sold.

Meredith: My cat?

Lou: That was Cass’s cat.

Meredith: Good. Just making sure.

Jamie: Did you get the ring back?

Meredith lifts her left hand. A gold wedding band sparkles from her finger.

Meredith: Still fits.

Lou: Even with all that good prison eating.

Jamie: Happy eight months, by the way.

Lou shakes her head disparagingly.

Lou: Eight months. Still can’t believe it. This country, honestly.

Meredith: Good behavior.

Jamie: Good behavior!

Meredith and Jamie clink imaginary champagne glasses.

Lou: Stop.

But nobody is paying attention to her anymore.

Jamie: You know, we can have a real wedding now if you want one.

Meredith: I did have a real wedding.

Meredith brings one finger to her lips before gently touching it to Jamie’s mouth. He smiles beneath her finger and she withdraws her hand.

Jamie: By the way, still waiting on your interview to tie the book together. Pencil it in after the conference call.

Meredith sighs deeply, then opens the car door.

Meredith: Asshole.

Jamie smiles at nothing. Meredith climbs into the back seat and turns to Monster, who stops kicking Lou’s chair only long enough to look at Meredith appraisingly.

Meredith: Hello.

Monster kicks Lou’s seat.

Monster: GOOOOOOOOOO!

Jamie catches Meredith’s eye from the side mirror and winks. Meredith sits back with a sigh.

Meredith: Well, Lou? You heard him.

Meredith gazes out the window as the car’s ignition starts. Lou pulls into the temperate midday heat and drives away, the scene panning after them until the car is no longer visible from the overhead shot. Eventually, we are left with nothing but endless sky, gently blowing leaves, and the quiet chirp of birdsong.