by Davis Bunn
All that was behind him now. Except for coffee, the one addiction he still allowed himself. Most of the AA crowd either junked out on sugar or smoked a couple of packs per day. The term they used to describe themselves was highly dependent. They needed something, a crutch of some kind. Daniel didn’t disagree with them. He just despised the effect it had on their daily lives and their health and their outlook and . . .
As someone in rehab had put it, you gotta find pals where you can, since they done stole your best friend.
Daniel’s machine of choice was an Expobar Onyx Pro. He opened the vacuum-sealed glass container and measured out two scoops of Caffé Prima Roma beans. While he ground them, he made sure the water distiller was on, then grabbed the fresh unpasteurized milk from the fridge and filled the metal pitcher. He steamed the milk while the coffee brewed, tamping the pitcher twice in order to thicken the foam. When he set the two mugs on the counter and began pouring in the milk, he realized Nicole had silently slipped over and stationed herself where she could watch. “You take sugar?”
“No, thanks.” She accepted the cup, took a sip. “This is nice.”
“Would you like to take a look around?”
Daniel let her set the pace. He was uncertain how to speak with this stranger. It had been four years since their last contact, and in the interim, Nicole had become a young woman. So he remained silent and simply followed her down the main corridor, pausing with her as she inspected the family room, now fitted out as a gym, and on into the master suite.
Kimberly’s parents had built this home. They had died within six months of one another, leaving their only child an orphan at twenty-three. The place had become his and Kimberly’s haven from the LA craziness, the place where they returned when things got totally out of control. Daniel seldom tracked back to those bad old days anymore. The memories led to regret, and regret to desire, and desire to . . .
Nicole walked back through the living room, took a left where the front wall met a trio of broad stairs, and entered what previously had been the den.
“Whoa.”
“This is my office.”
She took another step. “You work here?”
Having her become fully engaged, even for a moment, left him breathing easier. “Right. Travis and Ricki’s daughter suspects I have a hundred online games that I play when no one’s watching.”
“This is insane.” She walked over and stood behind his desk. “I didn’t know they even made monitors this big.”
The room ran almost the entire length of the house. The front wall was floor-to-ceiling glass doors. Beyond the glass was the stone veranda holding an outdoor table and outdoor chairs. Everything else—the lawn and the retaining wall and the bluff and the sea—was lost to the floating mist.
Daniel’s desk was a custom job, big as a dining table with a half-moon divot cut from the center. He pulled out the ergonomic chair and said, “Have a seat.”
Nicole now faced six fifty-five-inch curved OLED monitors, a row of four with two more stacked on top. The electronic array dominated everything. “What is this?”
“Live feeds to the global markets.” He pointed to each in turn. “Right now it’s Singapore, Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Shanghai; they’re all active. See those red lines?”
“This is so totally rad.”
“Those are recorded losses. The markets are in steep decline. There have been problems with the Chinese economy and political situation, and now it’s coming to a boil. Here.” He used the mouse to shift markets. “Okay, Rio is shut, ditto for London and Paris. But there are still off-book trades that happen twenty-four-seven. See how there are red ribbons appearing? This is the Far East decline hitting the after-hour trades.”
There was a soft electronic refrain from Night of the Valkyries. “That’s my alert of bad news on the wire. Want to listen in?”
“Sure.”
He shifted the left-hand monitor to show her. “This is Kara Chen. She’s business editor for the biggest independent channel in Singapore.”
Because the volume was cut off, a stream of words ran along the bottom of the screen. The news was genuinely bad. But Daniel had evacuated the Far East markets the previous week. So for him it was just confirmation of having gotten it right. Again.
Nicole said, “She’s a total hottie.”
“Among financial analysts, Kara Chen is known as the Queen of Antarctica.”
“So . . . you and Miss Chinese Hottie . . .”
“No way.” But Nicole had a small smile illuminated by the screens, the first he had seen. So Daniel added, “Actually, before Kimberly, I did try. Once.”
Nicole swung her chair around enough for him to see her smile full on. “She shot you down? Really?”
Daniel dragged down the collar of his sweatshirt. “See the scar?”
Nicole shifted back around. “Her loss.”
“Use the mouse. See the symbols at the top-right corner of each screen? Those are your alternative settings.” Daniel took a step back and watched her shift around the globe. Television newscasters, trending stocks, economic graphs—Nicole bounced from Japan to Cairo to Sao Paolo to Australia. “I could set you up a system of your own on the room’s other side, I’ve got tons of . . .”
Nicole’s good humor vanished into a crimping of her features. Tight as rage.
Daniel asked, “Did I say something wrong?”
Her voice had gone small again. “Am I staying here?”
Daniel took his time, giving his answer the care and thought it deserved. “There are two answers to that. First, you are welcome to stay here as long as you like.”
“For real?”
“Yes. I will try to be straight with you always. Starting now.”
Nicole swiveled partway around. “This is where I get the line, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“As long as I behave. As long as I do what you say. Something.”
Daniel settled on the three narrow steps that ran the length of the room, separating the living room from this glassed-in parlor. It meant Daniel was positioned slightly lower than Nicole. He watched her young features tighten in a determined effort to maintain control. “No, Nicole. I’ve wrecked too many days to try and tell you how to behave.”
She fashioned a silent Wow.
“Okay, ready for the second part?”
“I guess . . . yeah.”
“Your mom’s temper is the stuff of legends.”
“Or nightmares.”
“Correct. So our best bet is to lay low and give it time.”
“As mad as she was, that could take years.”
Daniel thought so too. He had seen his sister walk away from several lifelong relationships—including their own—without a backward glance.
But all he said was, “One day at a time, okay?”
Nicole turned her attention back to where the Shanghai exchange was in free fall. “Works for me.”
CHAPTER 6
On the drive over, Daniel described the day’s mystery. The trip to the cemetery, Goldie, and the dog’s response to the little girl.
“I don’t get it,” Nicole said. “This girl, what’s her name?”
“Amber. Her mother is Stella.”
“So this Amber, she’s at the cemetery to visit her dead sister . . .”
“Twin sister. Right.”
“On the anniversary of her death, which was, like years ago.”
“They were four. I guess she’s around ten or eleven now.”
“And she falls in love with your dog?” Nicole gave a mock shudder. “Creep me out.”
“And then she and Goldie go dancing over to her sister’s grave.” Daniel liked this easy camaraderie. A lot. “And she introduces my dog to her sister’s headstone.”
“This is the start of a major horror show. Do they go back for some blood ritual at midnight?”
“I’ll ask her next time we meet,” Daniel replied. “Which will probably be three hundred and sixty-four days fro
m now.”
“Do things like this happen to you all the time?”
“Actually, my life here in Miramar is very quiet.” He glanced over. “I’m afraid you’re going to find it very boring.”
Their entire afternoon had been like this, ever since that first difficult conversation. Easy. Normal. No further mention of Nicole’s mother or why she was here. With him. Or how long she was staying.
Nicole said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you ever come down to see me? I mean, I got all these presents and cards, but you never called . . .”
“Actually, I did call. But your mother told me to stop.”
“Mom wouldn’t let you talk to me? Why?”
As he showered and dressed for dinner, Daniel had decided he was going to be straight with his niece. The simple fact was, he had zero experience with teens. So he was going to treat her as if Nicole was, for all intents and purposes, an adult. And he was going to hold to honesty, as hard as that might be.
Like now.
They were less than a mile from Travis and Ricki’s home, and this was not something he was going to cover in their driveway. So he pulled over to the side of the road and parked.
Instantly, Nicole resumed the same semi-crouched and fearful demeanor she had shown in front of her mother. Which hurt Daniel. “I will be straight with you about everything you want to know. I just need to be sure. You really want to hear this?”
To her credit, she did not give a knee-jerk response. Daniel could see her take his words in deep. “I need to know.”
“Okay. Your mother and I had an argument.”
“It must have been some fight.”
“It was. Before today, the last time I saw Lisa was the night I moved to Miramar.”
She tasted the air, hesitated, then decided to ask, “What did you fight about?”
“I told her I was leaving town. That night. I hadn’t said anything to her before then. She . . .”
“Flipped out.”
Daniel nodded. “Basically, she showed me the same fury she gave you this morning.”
“But why?”
“Your mom thought I was nuts, blaming myself for my fiancée’s death. I was asleep at the time. Passed out, actually. Which happened a lot back then. It was the only reason Kimberly was driving. She was a fraction more sober than me.”
Nicole needed a moment to sort through all he had said, and what it meant. “Whoa.”
“Kimberly was your mom’s best friend. Lisa introduced us. Kimberly lost her parents when she was in college. Lisa, your mom, basically adopted Kimberly as her sister. She was going to give Kimberly away . . .” Daniel waved that aside. “I should have handled things better. But I knew Lisa was going to be upset. So I put it off until the very last minute, and she . . .”
“Exploded.”
“She set the dogs to howling in San Diego.” He tried for a smile. “Bad joke.”
“Then you left.”
“I felt like I didn’t have a choice. Not if I was going to stay sober. LA had its claws in too deep.” Daniel found it necessary to reflect momentarily on how easy it was to talk with this young woman. Like they were restarting a conversation that had never been interrupted. “Miramar had always held a special place for me, ever since my first visit. Plus, up here, living in the home that was supposed to be our retreat from the world was a daily reminder of why I needed to stay straight.”
“I remember how much fun you were.” Nicole studied him. “You laughed at everything I said. Mom and Marvin, they never laugh. Not, you know, with me. The most I ever get is this polite, ha-ha.”
“You call your father Marvin?” He stopped. “That didn’t come out right. I meant—”
“I know what you mean.” Nicole took a hard breath. “I started around the time I became certain he wasn’t . . . you know. He put it down to me being a difficult teenager. Mom just freaked out.” She went silent, then added quietly, “And now I know why.”
Daniel could not defend his sister. But he could be honest. “The year before it all fell apart, whenever I was off-air, my state was generally pretty wasted. I don’t actually remember the last time you and I spoke face-to-face.”
She watched him, somber now. “You took me to the zoo. You don’t remember?”
Daniel felt about two inches tall. “No.”
“It was the best day of my life.” She gave that a long pause. “When you stopped calling or stopping by, I thought, you know, I’d done something wrong and you were so mad at me you never came back.”
“Nicole, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I can ever make that up to you.”
“You’re here.” She struggled and managed to hold onto control. “On my worst day.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” He amended, “As long as you need.”
“Thanks. Maybe that’s Mom and Marvin’s problem. They don’t get stoned enough to find me funny. Bad joke.” She tried for a smile and almost succeeded. “So . . . you’re sober now?”
“Yes. I have been since I arrived in Miramar.” He pointed into the dusk. “Travis is my AA mentor.”
Nicole turned and stared at the dark beyond the windshield. “This is heavy.”
Daniel nodded. “It’s a lot to hit you with.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Daniel. Can I call you that?”
“Of course. It’s my name.” He started the car. “Hungry?”
CHAPTER 7
Daniel pulled up in front of Travis and Ricki’s home. As he cut the motor and rose from the car, Nicole slipped around the car and took his hand.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The air was cooling, and the dusk was windless, and Daniel could smell her hair’s floral scent from a recent shampoo. This particular walk could take forever, as far as he was concerned.
Then Travis opened the front door, and instantly Daniel knew something was seriously wrong.
Daniel lifted his free hand, stopping Travis from joining them. He said to Nicole, “I need to explain something. Travis and Ricki have been having a lot of trouble lately with Chloe. And the situation is getting worse by the day.”
“Should we leave?”
“I can take you home if you want.” Daniel liked how she silently mouthed the word home, as if she was coming to terms with the fact that he really meant she was welcome. “But I need to stay here. Having others around keeps things, well . . .”
“Smoother than they might otherwise be,” Nicole said. “I know how that is.”
“Chloe won her first beauty contest four years ago, just before she turned twelve. Last year she was runner-up in Miss Junior California.”
Nicole studied Travis standing there, filling the doorway. “So they’re pushy parents being ambitious against their daughter’s will?”
“Just the opposite. They never . . .” Daniel waved that aside. Another time. “Eight months ago, Nicole got a modeling gig in Santa Cruz. Small-time stuff, a local distributor of teen clothes made in Mexico. She pretended to be her mom, called the school, claimed she was sick. Took the bus up four days in a row.”
“So . . . when did they find out?”
“Last week. The company called to say they wanted Chloe to model their new line of swimwear.”
“Wow.”
“Chloe is grounded until she’s thirty-five. But that’s not the problem. She wants to go into modeling full-time. Now. Today.”
“So . . . fireworks.”
Daniel nodded. “Maybe I should take you back.”
“Are you kidding?” Nicole did her best to fashion a smile. “I’ll feel right at home.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
The two of them started forward, still hand in hand, up to where Travis stood, his broad features creased with a worried frown. Travis greeted them with: “We got us a situation here.”
“I’ve explaine
d the issue with Chloe.”
“Yeah, well, if only that was all we had on our plate.” Travis pushed the door open. “Ricki went ahead and invited her friend.”
“The lady from the town council?”
“She’s not on the council. She keeps the town’s books.” He halted Daniel’s protest with a palm the size of a catcher’s mitt. “Ricki did not ask my opinion on the matter.”
Nicole asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Aw, Ricki’s been trying to hook my pal up since forever. Look at the guy. A firing squad couldn’t get this man any tighter.”
Travis’s daughter stepped up beside her father. “Daniel, you better come in or else Daddy will poison us all. Hi, you must be Nicole. Welcome to the worst place on earth.”
“Chloe . . .”
“You said to behave. This is me behaving.” She said to Nicole, “My parents decided to raise me in the town where cadavers go to be buried. What’s your excuse?”
Nicole didn’t bat an eyelid. “I’m not exactly sure. My mom was screaming so loud on the way up, I couldn’t actually catch what she was saying.”
“Like, I know exactly how that is.” She pushed the door wider. “Come on inside.”
When the two girls departed, Travis said, “Her name is Stella. She’s here with her daughter, Amber.”
“Wait . . . what?”
“They’re nice, Daniel. And Stella is one sweet-looking lady.”
“I don’t believe this.”
Travis gripped his arm and pulled. Being chained to a bulldozer would have made for an easier struggle. “Come on, buddy.”
Ricki stepped up beside her man. “What are you two doing out here?”
“Daniel is just digesting the news about Stella.”
“I’ve had about all I’m going to take from you.” Ricki took hold of Daniel’s other arm. “Inside, mister. Now.”
CHAPTER 8
Travis was possibly the worst cook Daniel had ever met. An assortment of perfect ingredients became charcoal mush in his hands. Most of the time it did not matter, since Ricki treated the kitchen as her exclusive domain. But much to his family’s dismay, Travis loved his grill. Which was where Daniel came in. Any time Travis got the itch to fire up the Weber, an emergency alert went out for Daniel to drop everything and hurry over. On the rare occasions when Travis grilled alone, Ricki and Chloe ate out.
