Pretty Corpse

by Linda Berry

  Disappearing into the parallel universe of three giggly teenagers was a welcome diversion, even though the buying spree resulted in tired faces and Lauren’s pinched feet. The girls insisted on Taco Bell for dinner.

  The eatery was packed with teens from Cypress High. The girls settled easily into their element, huddling together over their soft drinks and tacos while dissecting the outfits of their female classmates. The conversation came to an abrupt halt when two athletic teenage boys ambled in. The transformation at the table was immediate. Lauren admired the aloof poses and expressions of bored sophistication the girls executed seamlessly.

  The boys glanced over and instantly recognized the girls. The taller of the two, sandy-haired and super-model handsome, grinned openly at Courtney. The young man seemed ready to cut a path to the table but hesitated when he met Lauren’s eyes. He held her gaze longer than she deemed polite, and his adolescent grin vanished. The look that replaced it chilled her. Cold arrogance. She’d witnessed it many times on the faces of men she had cuffed and arrested.

  The boys ordered take out and left the restaurant.

  “Oh my god,” Emmy gushed. “I’m melting.”

  “My heart is racing,” Katie said, lightly patting her chest. “Jason Singer is waaaay cool. I can’t breathe.”

  “Forget Jason. What about Chris?” Courtney sighed. “They almost came over.”

  Emmy pursed her mouth. “He’s too stuck on himself. Chris Larsen thinks he walks on water.”

  A chill ran along Lauren’s spine. Chris Larsen. Date rape.

  ***

  After dropping Katie and Emmy off at their respective homes, Lauren broached the subject nagging at her mind. “Those two boys who came into the restaurant, they go to Cypress?”

  “Yeah, they’re seniors. Two of the coolest guys at school. Top athletes. Chris is the quarterback.” A dreamy expression softened Courtney’s features. “Did you see how he looked at me?”

  “Yeah, I did. Isn’t he a little old for you?”

  “Mom, don’t be so old-fashioned. You’ve told me yourself that girls mature faster than boys. That makes Chris and me just about equal.”

  “How well do you know him?”

  “Well, he’s actually more Melissa’s friend than mine. He ate lunch with us a few days ago, before …”

  “Her attack?”

  “Yeah.” Courtney lapsed into silence.

  Lauren pulled up at a traffic light and glanced at her daughter. “You’ve been very quiet about Melissa. I know it’s a difficult subject but talking about what happened might make you feel better.”

  Courtney fidgeted with the strap of her handbag. Her continued silence prompted Lauren to try another tack. “Is Chris Melissa’s boyfriend?”

  “Kinda.”

  “How’s he dealing with what happened to her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wouldn’t it hurt Melissa’s feelings if he started seeing someone else? Especially now?”

  “I guess so. But Melissa knows that Chris dates lots of girls.”

  “Do you want to be one of them?”

  An expression flickered over her daughter’s face so quickly it was gone before Lauren could read it.

  “He’d never be interested in me.”

  “If he were?”

  Courtney shifted in the seat as if it had become uncomfortable. “I don’t want to talk about Chris, Mom,” she said curtly. “Or Melissa.”

  The light changed and Lauren drove through the intersection. “When you’re ready to discuss it, let me know. And remember your loyalties. When Melissa comes back to school, she’s going to need her friends.”

  Courtney pinched her lips together. “I don’t know if I want to be her friend anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “She won’t be the same.”

  Lauren breathed in and out, carefully. “Honey, imagine if it happened to you. You’d feel terrible if people shunned you for something you had no control of.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” She hunched lower into her seat and looked out the window.

  Lauren didn’t like that Courtney was viewing Melissa as competition for Chris’s attention. An infatuation with the star athlete was normal teen behavior, but this boy was not the innocent he appeared to be. The insolent look he gave her suggested he liked to challenge authority. His attitude was unsettling, yet it would be foolish to warn Courtney against him. Lauren’s own teen experience taught her that forbidden love had an addictive appeal. Recollections of her senior year rushed to mind, touching on emotions still bruised from battles raged with her mother. She had viewed Ann as the enemy, not an ally.

  Lauren’s thoughts drifted into the past. Until her senior year, she gave her mother little worry. A tomboy at heart, she’d been preoccupied with competitive sports and staying on the Honor Roll. Then she met twenty-two-year-old Ken Goldstein on a fieldtrip to the fire station. Acting as tour guide, Ken spoke passionately about the demands and rewards of firefighting and told funny stories about his fellow firemen. He had expressive brown eyes, an easy smile, and he looked drop-dead gorgeous in his uniform. Lauren’s attraction to him was immediate, and all-consuming. Unlike the self-centered boys from private schools that her mother pushed on her, Ken had maturity, and he cared enough about his community to become a public servant. Before she left that day, she slipped him her phone number.

  A week crawled by before he called, and the following weekend they met for a simple lunch at a Jewish deli. The handsome fireman proved to be respectful and caring, and he had a quick sense of humor. He did impersonations of politicians and celebrities that she thought rivaled Dana Carvey. “You should be on TV,” she laughed, hugging her sides.

  “Nah,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “My place is here. Helping people. I dreamt of being a fireman since I was a kid.”

  Lauren loved him for that. Because he was holed up in the firehouse during his long work shifts, Ken wanted to be outside on his days off. He and Lauren spent the following successive Saturdays together, riding bikes through Golden Gate Park, hiking through Muir Woods, discovering sea anemones in tide pools on the beach. He never pressured her for intimacy, though she wanted him to. Lauren had always played by the rules, promoting a good-girl image, but the emotions Ken stirred in her felt unbearably urgent. On their fourth date, walking on the beach at sunset, he held her hand, then he pulled her close and kissed her. She remembered the wild sweetness of that kiss, her emotions surging like a boat caught in floodwater. Before he dropped her off, they kissed again in his SUV, the console a protective barrier between them. When Ken pulled away, he left her flushed and aroused.

  “Let’s have sex,” she said boldly.

  “Wow.” He looked a little astonished. “You don’t hold back your feelings, do you?”

  “I know what I want,” she said, trying to sound confident.

  His eyes seemed to read her thoughts. “We’re just getting to know each other.”

  “It’s our fourth date.”

  “Sex isn’t something I take lightly, Lauren.” His gaze was piercing, questioning.

  “I don’t either.” She swallowed, embarrassed. “I’m a virgin.”

  A visible sigh of relief. “Thanks for telling me. I feel even more responsible now.”

  “Responsible for what?”

  “Your first time should be special, with someone you love, who loves you back.” Ken’s eyes met hers for a long moment. She felt her cheeks color. “Aside from that, you’re only seventeen. In all honesty, I had to think long and hard before asking you out. I’m used to women my own age.”

  “So you discriminate by age.”

  “Look, Lauren. I like you. More than I expected. You’re smart. More informed about the world than a lot of older women I know. We share the same principles, values, politics. But you’re still in high school.” He shook his head. “You live with your parents.”

  “I’m not a child,” she said adamantl
y. “You don’t have to be my babysitter. I graduate in two months. And turn eighteen two months after.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” He smiled, his eyes gently appraising her. “You’re beautiful. I just worry that … ” his voice trailed off.

  “I’m jailbait?”

  He chuckled. “You have a frank way of saying things. But yeah, that’s a definite concern.” He turned his attention out the window as a car passed by and pulled into a driveway up the street.

  She held her breath, afraid of what he was going to say next.

  “Look,” he said. “We’re having fun. Let’s spend time together. See where this goes. Keep it light.”

  Relieved, she crossed her heart and said in a mocking tone, “Agreed. I promise to uphold your monkish standards.”

  A flash of amusement lit his eyes.

  “Are we still on for next week?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Can I have a kiss for the road?”

  He leaned over and pecked her on the forehead.

  “Gee thanks.” Her hand found the door handle. “My grandpa’s kisses have more enthusiasm.”

  He grinned. “Next week, Lauren.”

  She grinned back.

  They continued dating once a week. Slow and easy. Ken kept the brakes on, controlled the tempo. She complied, walking around in a lovesick haze, distracted, but still managing to pass her finals and graduate at the top of her class. Ken attended and sat with her family, much to Ann’s surprise.

  Because Lauren saw Ken so infrequently, Ann assumed it was a casual relationship like the others Lauren maintained all through high school. Upon realizing how strong her daughter’s infatuation had grown, Ann put up strong opposition. She nagged Lauren tirelessly. Her disapproving voice still echoed in Lauren’s ears. “He’s blue collar, and too old for you. You can’t live on a fireman’s salary. He’s Jewish. Do you have any idea what kind of conflict that brings to a marriage, to children? I forbid you to see him.”

  Lauren quietly rebelled. She continued meeting Ken every Saturday in secret. Two weeks before her eighteenth birthday, he cooked dinner at his apartment, and afterwards they fooled around on the couch. Only this time, he didn’t want to stop, and she encouraged him not to. Sex was tender and thrilling, the most wonderful discovery of her young life, and once the floodgates opened, they made love as often as possible. Ken was always careful, but Lauren missed her next period. Panicked, she avoided telling him for days, and then blurted it out over lunch at the deli. She expected Ken to be upset, but he pulled her into his arms, told her he loved her, and asked her to marry him. Elated, she consented.

  Ken wanted everything aboveboard. In his mind it was time to speak to her parents and plan a big family wedding. Lauren didn’t mention that no one in her family knew they were dating. Fearing her mother’s reaction, Lauren procrastinated. A month passed and Ken became increasingly impatient. In an impulsive gesture, warm from the glow of lovemaking, she suggested eloping.

  “Are you kidding? I’m not marrying you on the sly. We’re doing this the right way.”

  Determined, Lauren didn’t see him for a week, ten days. Didn’t take his calls. Exasperated, Ken finally gave in. In a harried trip, they flew to Las Vegas and married in a garish chapel she selected from a brochure in the motel lobby. The minister was an Elvis impersonator, the witness a Marilyn Monroe lookalike. It wasn’t the fun, heartwarming experience Lauren expected. Ken’s anxiety buzzed beneath the surface like the whir of a drill. But Lauren sealed her fate, heralding her slightly protruding stomach as a symbol of love’s invincibility.

  Upon their return, the newlyweds confronted the damage left in their wake. Deprived of seeing her only child marry, Ken’s mother wept, while his deeply disappointed father tried desperately to console her. Unable to face her own father, Lauren told him by phone. He expressed stark surprise, but always the gentleman, he accepted the news graciously. Still, Lauren heard the hurt in his voice. “Please don’t tell Mom,” she pleaded. “I’ll tell her myself.”

  After suffering these stinging blows, Lauren decided to break the news to Ann over lunch at a crowded, noisy restaurant, seeking neutral ground. After their food was placed in front of them, Lauren delivered the blow. Her mother’s fork, halfway to her mouth, clattered back on the plate. Lauren watched her expression shift from stunned surprise to raw anger in a few heartbeats. “Why in God’s name did you do this?”

  “I … I thought it best ….”

  “You thought it best? This wasn’t your decision to make alone, Lauren. Getting married isn’t like going to the dentist. A wedding is a huge event in a person’s life, and should be treated as such. It should be a family celebration.”

  Strained silence.

  “I … I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh sweet Jesus! You’re pregnant?”

  Embarrassed by her mother’s shrill tone, Lauren glanced around at the stares of startled diners. “Mom, please, lower your voice.”

  Tears welled in her mother’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. Sniffling, she rummaged in her purse until she found a tissue. She wiped away the tears, daintily blew her nose, and took a full minute to compose herself.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, Lauren, I’m not okay.” She sat back and squared her shoulders. “You’ve robbed me of my dreams for you. I always pictured you in a long flowing gown, moving like a princess down the aisle of Grace Cathedral. Followed by a reception at the Four Seasons. Coverage on the society page.”

  “With all your snobby friends at my wedding,” Lauren said. “I never wanted a big, overblown ceremony. I didn’t want an event.”

  “We both could have gotten what we wanted, if you had talked to me.”

  “You wouldn’t listen. You hate Ken.”

  “I don’t hate Ken.” Ann dabbed at her eyes. “I just wanted you to go to college. Taste freedom. Meet a variety of men. Have fun. Now look what you’ve done. You attached yourself to the first man who came along and strapped yourself down with a baby. You’re too young to take on so much responsibility. One day, you’ll understand.” She sniffed and touched her nostrils with a tissue. “You did this to get even with me, didn’t you? Payback for not accepting him.”

  “It wasn’t payback.” Lauren blinked, trying to understand her own motives. “Just necessary.”

  “Necessary to hurt me.” Ann’s accusing stare locked on hers. “You win, Lauren. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” Ann threw her napkin on the table, grabbed her handbag, and stood abruptly, nearly colliding with the waitress.

  Lauren squirmed in her seat as she watched her mother’s retreat, realizing with a painful jolt that Ann was right. Lauren had wanted to hurt her. Sitting alone, fidgeting with her napkin, she felt no triumph, just a deep sense of shame and remorse. Her selfish act had landed like a missile, hitting its mark, causing collateral damage. Lauren had not only hurt a lot of people she loved, she deprived herself and Ken of a fairytale wedding that would have lived in their memories forever.

  Ann’s relationship with Lauren remained chilly and formal until Courtney was born. Presenting the grandparents with a chubby, healthy, beautiful granddaughter went a long way in healing the wounds Lauren inflicted. Over time, she came to see that Ann’s prophecies held kernels of truth. Her romantic view of marriage lost its sheen once she moved into Ken’s tiny bachelor apartment. Dirty diapers, sleep deprivation, and the endless needs of a tiny baby dimmed the glow of motherhood and left her too exhausted for romance.

  Accustomed to an upscale lifestyle, she learned a fireman’s salary didn’t go far in one of the most expensive cities in the world, especially after adding the cost of childcare when she went back to school. But Lauren adjusted, and she learned to live without the little luxuries she’d always taken for granted. The strain of tight finances eased with time. Ken got promotions, Lauren graduated from the SFPD Academy, and a second salary enabled them to buy their Noe Valley Victorian.

  Despite her m
other’s dour predictions, Lauren had made no mistake in her selection of a husband. Ken was a patient and devoted father, and his sensible, easy-going nature helped them resolve most of their marital conflicts quickly. Lauren had envisioned herself growing old with Ken, surrounded by children and grandchildren.

  “Mom, are you okay?” Courtney’s voice cut into her thoughts.

  Blinking back the hot sting of tears, Lauren pushed the painful memories aside. “I’m fine.” Glancing at her daughter’s beautiful face, Lauren swore she would not repeat her mother’s controlling tactics. She would quietly find out the truth about Chris Larsen, before he tried to make Courtney another trophy.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LAUREN went to work on the phone, making her first call to Jake Tyroll at Embarcadero Station. Tyroll had been the arresting officer in the Perez case, picking up the math teacher and his prostitute companion five years ago. Tyroll was quick to inform Lauren that he had been promoted to lieutenant, was no longer in Vice, had no recollection of the Perez case, and had little patience for accommodating a patrol officer’s request.

  “The best I can offer when I find the time,” he said with impatience, “is to look up the old file and get the name of the prostitute.” Tyroll pointed out that the woman would be hard to find. “If she isn’t in the slammer, dead from AIDS or drugs, she’ll have moved on to another territory.” Tyroll hung up, telling her he’d call back in a few days.

  Lauren wasn’t going to hold her breath. Her second call was to Officer Tina Eaton, Dill Lafferty’s arresting officer in Oakland. Eaton was out on patrol. Lauren left a message.

  After the incident with Chris Larsen, Karen Tully’s parents enrolled her at St. Teresa Catholic School on the east side. Lauren called the principal and asked about Karen. In a decidedly cool tone, the woman informed Lauren that student records were confidential.

  “I realize that. But silence is keeping a rapist free to assault again.”

  She heard the woman release a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

  Striking out on every front, Lauren hung up the phone.