Clarice, bless her heart, has the presence of mind to find a camera and so we have a wonderful shot of Olivia’s face frozen in the moment when she looks down at my kitchen floor and sees Buddy Love and Duffy guarding Johnny Depp. Leslie’s behind her, arms crossed like a storm-trooper, Marnie’s grinning like a demented elf, and I’m clearly cringing behind Jasmina.
The sex and the lack of sleep and the sight is all too much for her, and Olivia’s knees buckle. We decamp to my living room, where Clarice has tea waiting. As the early evening sun begins to slant over the couches, it’s soon apparent we’ve no idea what to do next.
“I think we have to try to wake him,” says Jasmina. “If he continues to sleep, he’ll dehydrate. We don’t want to be accused of murder on top of kidnapping, after all.”
“And if he wakes up,” says Leslie. “We have a chance of explaining Kelly’s idea to him. And maybe he is quirky enough to be reasonable about this. Though what there is to be reasonable about... I guess that’s another topic for discussion.”
Olivia hasn’t said much, and now she leans forward. “Kelly?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, the tears starting to drip down my face. “I guess it really was an awful idea - I didn’t think it through. It was just - I thought if you knew for sure that GianCarlo makes you feel the way Johnny Depp makes you feel - then you’d know. You’d be able to see past all the trips and the jewelry and the stuff - and know if he was the right one for you. You’ve been through so much - I don’t want you to waste your time or your energy on someone who isn’t going to give you everything you deserve.”
“Oh, honey,” she says. We’re all crying now, even Leslie, and Karen starts passing around the tissues.
“Hey,” Marnie says, as she blows her nose. “I have an idea. His sleeping - we all agree it’s not normal sleep, right?” As we all nod, she continues, “He’s under an enchantment - like Sleeping Beauty. That’s why he’s asleep. And in the fairy tales, when you want someone to wake up, you kiss them, right?”