The Girl of Sand & Fog

by Ward, Susan

  Bobby looks and nods. “Your mom is still beautiful.” He drops a kiss on my curls. “Just like you.”

  I set it back and study the others. “Why would all these pictures be here? It’s weird. It’s like a family photo arrangement, something Mom would do, only we’re not a family and never were.”

  Bobby’s gaze sharpens on my face. “You were once. That’s what you should take away from seeing this. Whatever happened it didn’t happen because Alan didn’t love you. He wouldn’t still have pictures of you everywhere if he didn’t care about you.”

  I sink my teeth into my lower lip to keep my emotions in check. Dazed, I move my gaze slowly around the room, and realize in disappointment that Bobby is wrong, there are no answers here, only more questions.

  I turn and find him across the room, a guitar in hand, examining something. I spring to my feet and close the space between us, and then look at what’s captured his attention. An inexpertly drawn picture in permanent black marker near the bridge.

  My eyes go wide. “Oh crap. I did that.”

  I don’t know how I know it; I just do.

  Bobby lets out a soft whistle. “Unbelievable. This is a fucking gorgeous instrument. Worth a fortune. I can’t even imagine how pissed Alan was to find that. I bet you got into a heap of trouble.”

  My eyes narrow on the drawing.

  Oh fuck, I remember it clearly.

  I make a face and work to sound casual about this. “A lot you know. I showed it to him when I finished it. I was very proud. All he did was kiss me on the forehead and say, ‘Thank you. That’s a lovely picture. Go tell your mum what you did.’ Which I didn’t because Mom would have blown.”

  Bobby beats back a smile. “Sneaky even back then.”

  I lift my face toward Bobby with what I can feel is a gigantic smile. “No, smart. Alan never got mad about anything. And he never tattled on me either. When I was bad he’d tell me to tell my mom and I wouldn’t do it and he’d still not get mad.”

  I start laughing. Bobby’s eyes twinkle as he sets down the guitar and then, before I know how it happens, I’m crying.

  Bobby quickly folds me into his arms. “Shush, Kaley. Don’t do this to yourself.”

  I nuzzle into his chest. “I didn’t expect it to feel this way being here. It doesn’t feel awful. It feels good. And I don’t understand. I thought—”

  Tears trap my words inside me.

  Bobby’s mouth moves through my hair in light, comforting kisses. “You thought what?”

  I take a moment to let myself calm.

  “I always assumed that whatever happened between my mom and Alan, I made myself forget. That it had to be awful for everything to change in our life so quickly, too awful for me to remember. But my memories are good. Nothing terrible happened in this house. We were happy together here. Somehow it makes it harder, all the unanswered questions and that one day I had two parents loving me and then I didn’t.”

  With his thumbs Bobby brushes at the dampness on my cheeks. “You shouldn’t be sad that your memories are good. What happened in your parents’ past has nothing to do with you. That you don’t know the unpleasant parts of their history is a clear indication how much they both love you, Kaley.”

  I sniffle and nod.

  He’s right; I just can’t change how it makes me feel.

  I slowly breathe in and out to steady myself.

  “When I was really little, I used to call Alan ‘Daddy.’ I didn’t remember that until today either. Standing here I can see us together, like watching a film. All the frames three-sixty perspective. He’d carry me, I was like three, and I’d slap his face saying, ‘Daddy. Daddy. Don’t want to leave the beach. Want to play.’ And my mom would flush and get nervous and try to take me from him, so I’d say it more and Alan would just smile and whisper in my ear, ‘No, love, we’re just good friends.’”

  I bury my nose into Bobby’s chest and cry harder.

  He soothingly strokes my back. “It’s OK, Kaley. Let it out. You love your dad, even though you pretend you don’t, but more importantly, you know he loves you and always has.”

  I lift my stricken eyes to him. “Then why is everything so fucked up? Why won’t he admit he’s my dad?”

  “I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Sometimes it’s better not to know everything. Have you considered that?”

  A sound makes us pull apart and turn.

  “I’ve called the security company. You better get out of here fast,” says a girl from the front hall.

  A young woman—college age, dressed in boy shorts and a too revealingly thin cotton tank top. Long black hair tousled like she just climbed from bed. Deep olive skin. Soulful brown eyes. Exotic. Built. Holding an aluminum bat for protection—lame, but original.

  “Who are you?” I ask in a deliberately condescending way.

  She tenses, stepping back and lifting her weapon higher. “I’m the housekeeper.”

  I give her a rude stare from head to toe. “Housekeeper, huh? Is that what they call girls like you these days?”

  Her face turns scarlet, but Bobby chides me with a stern look. And, damn, he’s right. Provoking her is not a good move, but seeing that Alan has a hottie tucked away at the beach instantly stirred my protective instincts for Mom.

  “The cops are on their way,” she warns. “If either of you so much as makes one step toward me I’ll bash you on the head. Don’t think I don’t know how to use this.”

  I roll my eyes—ridiculous.

  Bobby moves slowly forward.

  She pivots toward him.

  “I’m Bobby Rowan. My dad is Len Rowan. Do you know who that is?”

  She nods.

  “Then put down the bat,” Bobby adds. “We didn’t take anything and we’re leaving.”

  She looks unsure.

  Her gaze shifts back to me.

  “We didn’t mean to scare you,” I say quickly. “We thought the house was vacant. That’s why we didn’t knock and used the codes to get in. I have the entry codes. That should tell you this is OK. And if I were you, I wouldn’t tell Alan any of this. Do you think he’d be happy to know you threatened to hit me with a bat today? If you really are the housekeeper, if you really need your job, you should just let us go and not say anything.”

  She studies me, nervously gnawing her lip. Then her eyes widen; ah, now she sees the resemblance. The bat lowers to the floor.

  “I’m not supposed to let anyone into the house,” she mutters anxiously. “And no one told me he had a daughter.”

  Fuck, even the housekeeper can see it, and I’ve known her all of a half second.

  Everything in me starts to twirl.

  I shrug.

  “I won’t tell if you don’t tell.” And then I grab Bobby’s hand and hurry toward the door.

  * * *

  We’re quiet on the drive back to Pacific Palisades.

  I tell myself not to, but I can’t stop it. For the last half hour I’ve done nothing but Google my dad. Just the same shit as last night and, oh, I should definitely knock it off because I can feel Bobby alertly watching me.

  So stupid to be doing this. Like the housekeeper is going to get on the Internet and post something about the big drama of her morning. Nope, not if she’s going to get into trouble for us being there. She’s not going to post anything, ever.

  Bobby hits the signal and turns onto the street to his house. “What do you want to do now? Knock over a 7-11? Or can we have breakfast first?”

  Laughing, I lean in to him, letting my head fall on his shoulders. “Breakfast first. I’m hungry.”

  His eyes grow serious. “We shouldn’t be joking around about this. What we did today wasn’t cool and I shouldn’t have taken you there. What if the cops had come? Have you thought about that? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since we left Alan’s.”

  I exhale loudly, shaking my head. “But they didn’t come. There’s no reason to get all freaked out now.”

  “That not
hing bad happened doesn’t mean you should keep on doing everything you think you’re justified to do. How far are you willing to take this? Until you hurt the people you love? Or until you hurt you? Do you even know what it is you want? Is it the truth? Your dad in your life? Or maybe, just maybe, deep down inside in a way you don’t want to admit, what you really want is to hurt them all the way they’ve hurt you. I’m not sure anymore and that scares me.”

  What I hear in his voice turns my insides cold. Crap, he is really worried for me.

  “Jeez, Bobby. A little perspective here would be nice. We went into a house. My dad’s house. It’s not like we committed armed robbery.”

  He parks in his driveway and angles his body in the seat to face me. “I love you, Kaley. Don’t make me watch you take this obsession so far that you hurt everyone you love, including you.”

  My cheeks grow hot. “It’s not a fucking obsession to want to know the truth about who your parents are.”

  “No,” he replies unruffled. “The obsession is how you’re doing it. Cyberstalking 24/7—do you think I don’t know what you are always doing on your phone?—and it has now progressed to breaking and entering. Excuse me for being concerned and thinking maybe we should hit the pause button here.”

  He opens his door and starts to climb out.

  I follow him to the pool house and the silence between us is heavy and awful. He goes to the fridge and pulls out an orange juice.

  “Do you want me to leave?” I ask.

  He doesn’t look at me. He remains crouched there, back toward me, shaking the bottle and shaking his head. “Is that what you think or do you just say shit like that to hurt me?” he says after an excruciatingly long moment of silence.

  “That’s a no-win question. It’s not fair. Neither answer is true.”

  He turns and probes me with his gaze. “Then what is fair?”

  “That I love you,” I whisper. “And that I’m sorry. Hurting you is the last thing that I would ever want to do.”

  We square off with our eyes.

  “Then don’t.”

  I nod.

  He takes me into his arms. “I love you, Kaley. I’m here for you. Let me be. And let me be the guy I want to be for you.”

  I fan his face with my fingers and lean in until our foreheads are touching. “You already are.”

  His gaze softens and the grim line of his mouth relaxes. “Remember that, Kaley. I’ll be the guy you need me to be even during the times you don’t want me to.”

  CHAPTER 18

  I sit on the bed and watch Bobby pack.

  “I can’t believe you’re going without me.”

  He shoves a shirt into his bag. “Yep, I am. And you should, too, instead of sitting around letting your parents’ shit drive you crazy.”

  My mouth scrunches as I shake my head. “I can’t leave my mom. Not until I know everything is going to be all right. She’s really sad. It’s been two days since she told Alan about Khloe. He hasn’t showed and hasn’t called. My mom is a mess.”

  He nods, his chin jutting out in that way that tells me he’s struggling not to get pissed at me. “The best thing you can do is stay out of it. It’s not about you, Kaley. It’s about them. Us being together, that’s about you. Maybe that’s what you should focus on.”

  My cheeks flush. “We are my focus.”

  “Then why aren’t you going to Tahoe?”

  “I can’t. Zoe can’t either. Not all of us have oh so progressive parents. There was no point in asking. Chrissie would have said no. She’s like navigating a minefield these days. Something’s wrong. Really wrong. I can feel it.”

  “The best thing you can do for everyone is stay out of it and go to Tahoe with me. You can’t fix your parents’ shit and if something bad is going to happen, you can’t prevent it. And I’d really appreciate a little honesty here. You didn’t even try to get permission to go. I know you didn’t ask Chrissie.”

  Groaning, I flop back on the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you there was no point? She would have just said no. And then she’d be all suspicious about everything I ask if I can do forever. It’s better for us both if I don’t ask about Tahoe and snowboarding.”

  He zips closed his bag. “So what are you going to do for two weeks without me?”

  I make a face. “Hang with Zoe.” I turn onto my side, lifting a brow. “What are you going to do for two weeks without me? Run to Caroline’s rescue every time she has an emergency on the slopes?”

  He clenches his jaw. “Stop it, Kaley.”

  Fine, it was a shitty joke.

  I need to let up on poking at him over her.

  I stare up at him, eyes wide. “Are you going to miss me?”

  He sinks down on the bed, letting out a ragged sigh. “You know I am.”

  “Then why don’t you stay?”

  He kisses me. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go?”

  Back to square one.

  No point in telling him again that I can’t.

  His phone beeps. He fishes it from his pocket and reads a text. “Jake’s here.”

  Bobby starts gathering up his shit. Fuck, I don’t want him to go, but he’s going to go and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I don’t know why he’s being so stubborn about this. He should want to stay with me.

  We walk to the driveway and Bobby tosses his junk into the back of Jake’s Explorer.

  He drapes his arms over my shoulders, kissing me long before he climbs into the passenger seat.

  My fingers curl around his open window. “Text me every night and every morning.”

  He brushes my cheek with a thumb. “I’ll be texting you more than that and you know it. I hope you change your mind and fly up. It’s not going to be any fun without you.”

  I pout. “I can’t.”

  He nods.

  Jake leans forward around Bobby. “See ya, Kaley. Keep Zoe out of trouble for me.”

  I laugh and step back from the vehicle. The ignition turns over and they start driving down the road. Fuck, I can’t believe Bobby really went without me.

  I climb into my car, text Zoe to see if she wants to meet up later, and then head for home. I pull into my driveway and my stomach does a flip.

  Alan’s back.

  Black Mercedes parked by the garage, blocking me so I can’t get in.

  My fingers curl around the steering wheel and I stare at his car, anxious but now depressed. Fuck, I should have gone to Tahoe instead of sticking around for my mom. Jeez, I wish my mom would talk to me about things so I’d know what’s going on instead of always trying to read the vibe she’s putting out. But no. That would be too simple. And crap, I could have gone—Bobby was right—because everything is hunky-dory in Chrissie’s world and I shouldn’t have doubted for a moment it would be.

  Chrissie gets everything she wants, always.

  I climb from the car and cut through the backyard, entering the house through the patio doors. Krystal is on the family room floor clad in her pink tights doing her post-ballet stretches. Ethan and Eric are playing video games. I don’t see mom or Alan and it’s quiet.

  Oh yuck, I hope that doesn’t mean they’re—

  “Hello.”

  I whirl and my heart stops.

  What the fuck is she doing here? I stare in disbelief as the little college girl from Alan’s house drops a laundry basket with a loud thump on the kitchen island.

  “Where’s my mom?” I ask.

  The girl brushes her hair back from her face and tucks the loose strands into her ponytail. “In the studio working. She asked not to be disturbed.” She gives me a pointed smile. “You’re Kaley, right? I just started working here today. I’m Aarsi.”

  Oh fuck, what the hell is going on here?

  Leave for two hours and shit goes down.

  I watch her fold and fluff, neatly stacking Khloe’s little duds into organized piles.

  “Yep, I’m Kaley.”

  She nods. “It’s a pleasure
to meet you.” And then her gaze locks on mine in an intense, meaning-filled stare before she scoops up the finished laundry and sets it in the basket.

  OK, she didn’t bust me and for some reason she doesn’t want me saying anything either. That’s a win. I can work with that.

  I watch her leave. The second she’s gone from the room I drop down on the floor beside Krystal.

  “What’s going on?”

  Krystal slowly rolls her upper body back and gracefully straightens. She lets out a slow breath. “What’s going on about what?”

  “What is Aarsi doing here?”

  Her brows crinkle. “She’s the new nanny. Showed up this morning—pouf, like Mary Poppins out of nowhere. I didn’t even know Mom was hiring a nanny.”

  Oh fuck. Mom didn’t.

  Krystal’s gaze sharpens. “Why are you so freaked out about it?”

  Crap, what did I let slip onto my face?

  “I’m not.”

  “Good. Mom seems happy. And Aarsi is kind of fun. Are you going to the beach with us? Mom wants her to take all of us, except Khloe, to the beach and then Grandma’s for the night.”

  Chrissie is shipping us off overnight.

  I search the house again.

  “Is Alan here?”

  Krystal shakes her head.

  I spring to my feet and make my way down the hallway toward the studio. Mom asked not to be interrupted, but I open the door anyway. No one at the soundboard. Chrissie is alone behind the glass seated at the piano, chewing on a pencil and staring at the sheets lying in front of her.

  I pause for a moment, watching her. She’s writing music again. When did that start? And Krystal’s right. She looks happy. Happy enough that she might even let me go to Tahoe if I ask.

  I go through the soundproof door and cross to the far side of the room. I drop down on the couch and sigh.

  Chrissie looks up. “Well, that was dramatic, baby girl. What’s wrong?”

  I comb the hair from my face with my fingers. “Bobby left for Tahoe today. He’ll be gone two weeks.”