All Stars Fall

by Rachel Van Dyken

  His eyes raked over me briefly before he gave his head a shake. “Black coffee, three hot chocolates, and advice on how to get gum out of both real and synthetic hair.” His smile was brilliantly white, movie-star level. What was a guy like him doing in Seaside? And I was officially staring a little too hard.

  I ducked my head. Great. I just met a gorgeous, probably taken guy and I was willing to bet I smelled like potato chips and diet Coke, not to mention my makeup had completely melted off my face during the drive.

  “I’m not sure about the gum, but I think I can help you with everything else.” My voice came out more like a croak than something sexy or even remotely normal, just adding to the embarrassment and total panic now that I faced the machine.

  Why had this been a good idea again?

  The teen popped her gum behind me.

  I gritted my teeth.

  I could do this.

  Easy.

  Cake.

  I’d done this a thousand times. I closed my eyes, exhaled, opened them again, and let myself default into barista mode.

  Within five minutes, I had all his drinks and was staring down the oldest looking cash register I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  Did the thing even work?

  “Peanut butter.” Surly teen said from behind me. “Really creamy peanut butter, get it up to the root and start pulling the gum away one hair at a time.” She tapped against the register. “That’ll be seven-fifty.”

  He handed her a ten, but locked eyes with me. “Keep the change.”

  She flashed him a bored smile, stuffed the extra change into the empty tip jar then walked slower than I thought physically possible back to her stool and slumped over her phone again.

  Unbelievable.

  The little bell on the door went off as he left and I found myself staring after the teen who still couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge me.

  “You’re welcome,” I found myself saying.

  Her head didn’t even lift. “Uh-huh.”

  That was it. When I had kids, no screen time! They got books and puzzles, nature!

  You know, if I didn’t repel men.

  Or stare at them slack-jawed like I’d just done.

  I was off to a solid start, wasn’t I?

  The bell rang, alerting me to another customer.

  The lady’s hair was pulled back into a sleek black ponytail. She had four cases of muffins in her hands and narrowed her eyes at me. “Penelope?”

  “Oh, thank God, you must be Jennifer?”

  “Yes!” she squealed, moving her feet and almost dropping the muffins. The woman looked like she’d stepped out of a yoga studio. You know the type, where their bodies just refuse to age past thirty-five. She looked like a total adult, the kind that even had the matching bra and panties just because she could.

  I suddenly felt very insecure about my teal panties and black sports bra under my jersey tank.

  I mean, you don’t drive in expensive lingerie.

  Not that I would know.

  Since I didn’t own any.

  I chewed my lower lip.

  “Did you just get in?” Jennifer asked, breaking my concentration.

  “Yup.” I rocked my weight back on the heels of my Nikes and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I must have gotten confused because I thought I was supposed to meet you today and—”

  “Yes, totally my fault. I was stuck in traffic.”

  Here? I wanted to ask but kept my mouth shut.

  “You’d think that we were the new ‘it’ spot with all the Hollywood sightings, but it’s normal to us now, you know? Rock stars, actors, whatever, as long as they’re a paying customer, I don’t care.” She scrunched up her nose.

  Wait, what were we talking about?

  I was clearly exhausted. “Hey, as long as they love coffee.” That sounded normal, right? Not desperate?

  She beamed at me, all white teeth and red lipstick. “I knew you would be a great fit.” She peered around my body. “Stella, you can go now. Thanks for watching the shop.”

  Stella hopped off her stool, gave us a finger wave, and walked right out the front door.

  “Is she—”

  “Oh no, no, God, no.” Jennifer laughed. “I have two boys. She’s friends with Mark, the younger one, though she’s even younger than him. I pay her exactly ten dollars to watch the store when I have to run errands and promise her peeks of his six pack.”

  I burst out laughing. “I’m sure it works every time.”

  “She asked to pay me once.” Jennifer giggled. “Anyways, thanks again for all of this. I actually leave tomorrow, so let’s go over everything and then I’ll leave you alone to unpack.”

  “Great!” Was it though? Why did it feel like I was trading my old life for a new one that I couldn’t even define? I’d had friends, a steady teaching job that was comfortable but other than that, I couldn’t see anything happening anymore. It was like each day kept repeating itself. I’d loved Cunningham Falls and now I was wondering what the heck I’d been thinking when I left it for Seaside. I frowned and then tried my best to conjure up a bright smile. “Let’s get started!”

  I was in it now.

  Whether I liked it or not.

  And part of me, when that sick part thought of the hot guy who’d just stopped by needing help with gum in what I was assuming was his child’s hair, was excited.

  If they had men like that here.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Two

  Trevor

  “DAAADDY!” I winced as Bella held up her arms. She was almost four and had enough bubblegum in her hair to make it look blue instead of blonde. I bit back a curse and held her close in an attempt not to get it caught in my longer hair or, God forbid, an eyelash. “I need you, where you go?”

  I was about to answer when Eric laughed. “Gum makes your hair fall out!”

  “Daddy!” Bella’s eyes filled with unshed tears.

  Damnit!

  “Eric.” I gritted my teeth. “You know that’s not true, apologize to your little sister.”

  He gave her a sloppy grin. “Sorry your hair’s going to fall out.”

  Son of a bitch.

  “Eric!” Still holding Bella, I stood, almost knocking over the hot chocolate I’d brought them and the babysitter, who seemed to be more interested in her phone than anything going on in our lavish beach house. “If you can’t be nice, I’m going to ground you.”

  He made a face. “Mom never grounded me.”

  He was six and a pain in my ass.

  “Eric…” I prayed for patience. Hell, I hadn’t had patience since my ex-wife decided to run away with a Brazilian boy band member meant for stardom. It had been a year. A year of absolute hell, and now I was one month away from gaining full custody of three kids who looked at me like I was eighty years old and needed help with downloading apps on my cell phone.

  How had it come to this?

  I winced. I really shouldn’t dwell on the how.

  She was a beautiful supermodel who wanted “the life.”

  I gave it to her.

  We had kids.

  She got bored.

  End of story.

  Bitch.

  I rubbed my chest with my hand. Bella grabbed my fingertips and brought them to her cheek. “You have big hands.”

  I let out a rough exhale. “Because I’m meant to carry you…all of you, that’s what family does.”

  Eric snorted just as his twin brother made his way down the stairs complaining about his iPad breaking…again.

  “Malcom, I’ll get to it in a few, all right? I need to talk to your nanny first.”

  “We don’t need a nanny,” Malcom said in an authoritative voice.

  “Why don’t you guys go pick out a movie while we talk?”

  Eric grumbled something about being too old for hot chocolate even though he took it and started chugging as he walked up the stairs and Bella followed with her bouncy now short and gum infl
icted blonde hair and chipper demeanor.

  Which left me.

  And Adriana.

  “So…” I sat down across from her, folding my hands in front of me, feeling completely out of my element. I was a fucking music producer. I had gold records lining the walls of my house—LA house to be exact, but still. And I’d successfully sold out the last reunion tour with my guys.

  And yet there I was.

  Stuck.

  In Seaside.

  Staring at a babysitter who was more interested in her Instagram than letting me know if my kids finished their chores.

  “How did they do today?” I leaned back in my chair, going for the casual.

  She started typing on her phone like her fingers were on fire.

  Mine went off.

  I looked down.

  Adriana: Good! They played at the park, we made cookies, Eric has an attitude problem, and Malcom asked where babies come from, but Bella colored with me while he pouted. Such cool dudes. Well done old man well done.

  I blinked then blinked again. “Did you just…text me your answer?”

  Her fingers moved again.

  Adriana: Yeaaahhhh?

  Me: Speak. With. Your. Voice.

  She looked up. “Um, it was a good day. Can I get paid now?”

  I rubbed my hands down my face. “Adriana, I pay you to help them, not to just watch them. I want you to engage them, to teach them things. Malcom and Eric start school in a few weeks, Bella’s headed off to pre-school.” Just the idea of them being away from me for more than a few hours had me feeling panic. “I just, I don’t want them to get made fun of for not knowing what a circle is, and I’m trying the best I can but—”

  “Are you gonna cry?” She narrowed her eyes. “Because I don’t think that’s in my job description. And if you want me to teach them like a teacher then you should pay me like a teacher.” Her smile was back. God save me from seventeen-year-old girls. “Like with benefits and stuff.”

  “You know what?” I dug into my back pocket and gave her a crisp hundred dollar bill. “Never mind.”

  She took the cash. “Oh! I almost forgot, a few friends and I are headed to a music festival tomorrow so I need the week off.”

  I stared at her, slack-jawed. “Adriana, we’ve been over this. I’m in the studio all week. I hired you to watch them so I could get this album done.” She didn’t need to know that I hadn’t been able to take the press in Malibu, that going to the grocery store had made all three kids cry when some dick reporter asked if Bella was sad her mommy was gone.

  It had been a nightmare.

  And then my bandmate and lead singer Will told me that the easiest place to escape was Oregon.

  And after visiting last year, I realized he’d had a solid point. Not only did Seaside have three films and a reality show hit based on the town, but some of my closest friends had beach houses there.

  Including boy band AD2, the guys said they wanted to raise their kids away from the crazy, which made sense.

  It still felt like we’d run away in the middle of the night, leaving a life behind that I didn’t even recognize anymore.

  “Um.” Adrianna waved in front of my face. “You have a stroke or something?”

  I made a face. “Seriously? How old do you think I am?”

  She gave me a wide-eyed look. “Is this the part where I tell the dad that he’s still got it?” She licked her lips and bit down on the bottom one. “Is that why you’ve been so weird since you hired me? You have a crush on me?”

  I refrained from groaning into my hands, barely. “That would be a hard no. I’m an adult, and I’m pretty sure if I asked you to dial 911 you’d send a text instead.”

  “Hey! Well, you’re just some washed-up—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there before all of my platinum records fall off the wall and chase you down the street. You’re fired.”

  “What? Because I wouldn’t suck your—”

  “Wow!” I was seconds away from calling in one of the security guards I’d hired for the kids when I was away during the day. The last thing I needed was a kidnapping. “You can show yourself out.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

  That would be because I knew how to handle women, and she was nothing but a girl with an iPhone X and way too much time on her hands.

  The door slammed behind her.

  And just like that, the crying started.

  “Daddy!” Bella wailed. “Eric put more gum in my hair!”

  “It’s gonna fall out! It’s gonna make you bald!” Eric shouted.

  “Is it normal for gum to be that sticky?” Malcom asked in a confused voice.

  “I don’t think that’s gum.” More from Eric.

  “DAD!” Malcom shrieked. “I think it’s Gorilla Glue!”

  “Son of a bitch!” I roared.

  The crying intensified.

  Of course I just had to fire the nanny. Fantastic. The album deadline was rearing its ugly head, I had absolutely no help, and my kids were understandably upset that their mom was a selfish bitch.

  “Just give me a minute to think,” I called up, not that it helped. The crying intensified, something was pushed over, a crash sounded louder, another shriek. A curse word.

  “Malcom Jonathan WOOD!” I roared.

  “It was Eric!”

  “Shit!” Eric repeated over and over again.

  My eye twitched as I looked at the fridge and saw the beer waiting inside. Once they were in school it would get better. They’d make friends and—

  “Daaaaddy!” Bella ran down the stairs and jumped into my arms. “Eric said it’s never going to grow back!”

  “Everyone downstairs!” I yelled. “Now!” I kissed Bella on the cheek. “Sweetheart, we’ll figure it out. There has to be something at the store we can get that will take it out, all right, maybe we’ll try the peanut butter this time?”

  “Mom would know,” came Malcom’s solemn voice as he jumped down the bottom stair. “She always knew what to do when—”

  “Yeah well, Mom’s not here!” Eric shoved him. “So just drop it.”

  The pain was evident in Eric’s face, in Malcom’s voice, hell, in the size of Bella’s tears.

  I was failing them.

  I loved them more than anything in the world.

  And I was failing them when they needed me the most.

  I let out a helpless sigh. “Coats and shoes, we’re going to the store.”

  Chapter Three

  Penelope

  I spent the entire day unpacking, downed at least two glasses of wine before crashing on the small couch I’d brought from Montana, and nearly missed my first shift.

  I still hadn’t showered from the day before, which meant I smelled like potato chips and road kill, but I didn’t want to be late, especially since I knew that the alternative was unpacking more boxes and wondering what the heck I was thinking driving from everything I knew in Montana.

  To a strange place where I had exactly one friend who barely spent any time in the area because she was married to a famous actor.

  Like A-list famous.

  What did I expect?

  That I’d get here and everything would suddenly feel fresh and perfect just like the salty ocean breeze?

  I threw on a Nike sweatshirt, a pair of leggings, tennis shoes, and a Mets baseball hat that I’d purchased on a whim because I liked the colors.

  Yeah, I was that person.

  I didn’t have time to do much to my face, so I swiped it with a makeup wipe, grabbed mascara, and then added a touch of pink lip gloss.

  This, I sighed as I stared in the small mirror, was as good as it was going to get.

  I exhaled and locked up the house, then made my way over to the small coffee shop. The lights were already on, even though the door was locked. Jennifer said she’d arrive early and get the first pot of coffee going for me so I would actually make it through the busy morning.
r />   I wondered what she meant by busy.

  Especially after looking up and down the dead streets of Seaside.

  It was five a.m.

  And the only things I saw wandering around were seagulls that seemed hell-bent on diving toward the water in search of food.

  Despite the tattered screen, the small coffee shop was inviting, homey in a way that made my chest ache.

  One thing that the universe never seems to remind you about fresh starts: they’re almost always extremely lonely and uncomfortable no matter how fresh they can be.

  I loved the ocean.

  I loved to travel.

  It was an adventure, right?

  An adventure at 27.

  Don’t focus on the past, focus on the now.

  The now is all you can control, right? Inhale, exhale, exist in the moment, and make yourself a coffee.

  I pulled three espresso shots, dumped them into a cup, added a bit of cream, and chugged the thing before making sure the cash register was flipped on and counting the till.

  By the time I was done making sure the store was ready to go, it was time to flip the sign.

  How very exciting.

  Not.

  I flipped from Closed to Open and took the few steps back behind the counter, wondering if I would need another three shots of coffee. The bell over the door rang.

  An elderly man in his seventies gave me a wave with a newspaper. “Extra hot drip, black.” He held out exactly one dollar and seventy-five cents and then honest to God dropped a dime in my tip jar.

  The only reason I didn’t gawk was because he had a Vietnam Vet hat on, and he looked like the sort of old man you’d want as your grandfather, especially during Christmas time—yeah, he’d be the grandpa that would put an orange in everyone’s stocking and do magic tricks on your birthday with napkins and pieces of licorice.

  Where the heck was I getting all of this?

  I needed to stop watching the Hallmark movie channel ASAP.

  “Oh!” He turned on his heel and then pointed the same newspaper at me. “Now if we get too loud, just say the word. We can get pretty rowdy!”

  I bit back a smile. “I promise I’ll let you know. I’m Penelope, by the way.”