California Summer

by Anita Hughes

  “Is it good?” he asked.

  Rosie handed him her headphones. “Here, listen.”

  “He’s got a great voice.” He passed the headphones back to Rosie.

  “You like it?” She looked up.

  “I’m more of a classic rock fan.” Josh grinned. “But he sings from the heart. No wonder the girls love him.”

  “You don’t care that the song is called ‘Rosie’?” she inquired.

  “It’s not a love song, he’s a bit young for that.” Josh put a large helping of Yorkshire pudding on his fork.

  “Are you implying I’m a cougar?” Rosie pouted as she swatted him playfully.

  “Not to me.” He stroked her hair. “To me you’re a hot young chick.”

  “You really don’t mind?” she asked seriously.

  “It’s incredible! It will be good free publicity for the store,” he replied. “When I buy the showroom and your shop is doing well, we can start talking about stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “The things couples talk about.” He curled his fingers around Rosie’s.

  “Sex, laundry, baseball?” Rosie swung back and forth on the swing.

  “I know it’s early.” Josh stroked her knee. “But we could think about moving in together.”

  “Oh.” Rosie gulped. She put the glass of milk down and wiped her mouth. “That’s a huge step. Are you certain you really mean it?”

  “Of course I mean it.” He nodded. “Not just moving in, but a future. The station wagon, the dog, a couple of kids.”

  “I don’t think anyone drives station wagons anymore.” Rosie grinned.

  “Yvette hasn’t made me an uncle yet, and I always wanted to teach a kid to surf,” Josh offered.

  “You could probably find a kid if you went down to the beach,” Rosie joked.

  “I’m serious, Rosie.” Josh held her hand tightly. “I’m not quite ready financially, but it feels right. We love each other, we want the same things.”

  “What if I want an Irish setter and you want a Dalmatian?” She grinned.

  “I couldn’t want a Dalmatian. They remind me of Cruella de Vil,” Josh replied.

  “What if I want to go sailing and you want to go skiing?” she asked.

  “We’ll go to Switzerland. We can sail on Lake Lugano and ski in St. Moritz on the same day,” he offered, and ate the last bite of Yorkshire pudding.

  “How do you know about Lake Lugano and St. Moritz?” Rosie asked.

  “I was a history major, I know a lot of useless facts,” he said. “Let’s go to the Shake Shack. I’m craving a banana split.”

  “And we’ll ask the waitress to put sprinkles on it to celebrate.” She followed him to the driveway.

  “To Rosie’s Fish Tacos and the Classic Car Showroom and everything that comes next.” He opened the car door and kissed her.

  “We’re going to have everything we dreamed of,” she said, and kissed him back.

  * * *

  Rosie stood at the store window and watched the pouring rain. It almost never rained in California in August. But this morning, gray clouds formed over the mountains and drenched the village. A few tourists sat in cafes and stared accusingly at the sky. It was as if they had been promised a sunny vacation, and they wanted their money back.

  It had been two days since Colby’s television appearance and it hadn’t stopped raining. Every day she waited for the sun to appear and new customers to line up at the door, but the streets were deserted and the cash register barely rang.

  She picked up the phone and called Rachel’s number.

  “I’m so bored, I’m making faces at my reflection in the fridge,” Rosie said into the phone. “I want to tell you something, come and keep me company.”

  “Why not?” Rachel’s voice came over the line. “If I sit in this store any longer by myself, I’ll be tempted to eat the whole display of chocolate-covered pineapple.”

  Rosie hung up and waited for Rachel to appear. The door opened and Rachel darted inside, shaking off her umbrella. “It’s like a river out there. Ducks wouldn’t go out in this weather.”

  “I haven’t sold a fish taco all day,” Rosie agreed. “Maybe I should advertise a rainy-day special.”

  “At least it gives me time to catch up on the gossip sites.” Rachel clicked through her iPhone. “Did you know Colby has a new album out? I haven’t had a chance to listen to it. Yesterday I was swamped making chocolate My Little Ponies. A customer ordered thirty chocolate My Little Ponies for her daughter’s birthday party. These mothers keep trying to outdo each other. What happened to cupcakes?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Rosie nodded. “He wrote a song for me and sang it on all the late-night talk shows.”

  “What did you say?” Rachel looked up. “Don’t tell me you’re having a secret affair. Really Rosie, even I know he’s too young. And what about Josh? You two have something special.”

  “Of course we’re not having an affair. Colby wrote it after he came up to Montecito.” Rosie arranged the folded napkins on the counter. “The song is about leaving the rat race and following your dream.”

  “Are you sure? What about the night of the party.” Rachel eyed her suspiciously. “You looked fantastic in that bikini, and then you disappeared.”

  “I bumped my head in the pool,” Rosie reminded her. “Then I fell down chasing Josh and scraped my elbows and knees. I was in no condition to sleep with anyone.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, I can’t stand a cheater.” Rachel nodded. “Though he is gorgeous. His dimples are the size of nickels.”

  “Even Josh wasn’t worried about the song.” Rosie laughed. “He thinks I’m too old for Colby to be interested. Colby went on The Today Show and Anderson Cooper.”

  “Anderson Cooper is hot. It’s too bad he’s gay,” Rachel murmured. “What did Colby say?”

  “He raved about my fish tacos. Ryan called to tell me. He thinks I’m going to get a lot more customers.” Rosie stared at the rain drenching the window boxes. “I thought so too but I guess I’m wrong.”

  “His fans are pretty vigilant,” Rachel responded. “Once they surrounded his house because there was a rumor that he buzzed his hair. It was a false alarm, but they weren’t satisfied until he appeared on the balcony. Colby even cut off a few locks of hair to reward the fans who spent all night waiting to see him. He’s so thoughtful.”

  The bell above the door tinkled and three girls ran in. Their hair was wet corkscrews and their socks and sneakers were soaked. They squealed like baby pigs and collapsed into a fit of giggles.

  “I can’t believe we did it,” said a dark-haired girl. “I ruined my new shoes. My mother is going to kill me.”

  “Is this the fish taco store Colby Young talked about on The Today Show?” a blond girl demanded. She wore striped socks and sneakers with pink laces.

  “This is Rosie’s Fish Tacos.” Rachel got up from the stool. “And that’s Rosie.”

  “You’re Rosie?” a red-haired girl with a face full of freckles breathed. “Do you know Colby Young?”

  “We’ve met a few times and he’s a friend of mine,” Rosie acknowledged.

  “Stop being coy.” Rachel shot Rosie a look. “Rosie hit her head at a pool party and Colby and his manager saved her. The experience bonded them, they’ll never forget it.”

  “He’s such a hero,” the dark-haired girl gushed. “What happened?”

  “We were all playing Marco Polo and my locket got wedged in the drain,” Rachel replied. “Rosie tried to retrieve it, but it wouldn’t budge and she almost ran out of air. She shot to the surface and hit her head on the diving board. Colby and Ryan rushed to her rescue and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

  “Colby did that?” a girl gasped.

  “It was one of them.” Rachel shrugged. “I can’t remember who. There was blood and Rosie was moaning with pain.”

  “Wow, that’s incredible,” the blonde gushed and turn
ed to Rosie. “You must have been so brave.”

  “She couldn’t let down her customers,” Rachel enthused. “After she got all cleaned up she came right to the store and made Colby’s favorite fish tacos.”

  “Oh my god! The fish tacos,” the redhead squealed. “Colby tweeted that they’re the best. We made our mothers drive from Bakersfield. We’ll have two each, and I’ll take a couple for my mom, and one for my little sister. She’s only five, but she already has a Colby Young lunch box.”

  “I have to text Melissa and Morgan.” The dark-haired girl took out her phone. “They’re never going to believe we met a girl who bled all over Colby Young!”

  The redhead agreed. “I feel like I’m going to pass out. I need something to eat!”

  Rosie bundled their tacos and handed them napkins and plastic forks. She added three bottles of orange soda and a side of chips and salsa. “Thank you for coming all the way from Bakersfield. Maybe you can tag us on Facebook and Instagram.”

  “Can I get a picture with you?” the blonde asked. “I’ll post it on Snapchat.”

  “Sure.” Rosie walked from behind the counter and the redhead snapped their photo with her phone.

  “Maybe one day I’ll get a photo with Colby Young.” The blonde sighed. “That would be the best day of my life.”

  The girls ran down the street, shrieking and laughing. Rosie turned to Rachel and placed her hands on her hips.

  “What was that all about?” Rosie asked, closing the cash register. “You made it sound like a scene in an afternoon soap opera. It was a little bump.”

  “Call it creative marketing; it’s in my genes.” Rachel grinned. “How many tacos did they buy?”

  Rosie opened the cash register and counted receipts. “Sixteen.”

  Rachel nibbled a tortilla and stared at the wet pavement. “You better get ready for the deluge. It’s time to build an ark.”

  * * *

  The rain cleared the next morning and left the cobblestones bright as new pennies. Rosie went to work early, cradling a cup of coffee. She turned onto East Village Road and there was a crowd snaking down the street. Women flipped through magazines and mothers balanced toddlers on their hips. And there were girls of all ages. They chewed gum and scrolled through their iPhones, squealing and trading screens.

  Rosie walked closer, wondering if they could all be waiting for her to open the store. She searched for her key and spotted Rachel standing by the door.

  “At least you got here early.” Rachel was waiting on the sidewalk.

  “These people can’t all be wanting fish tacos?” Rosie gulped, wondering if she had ordered enough avocado.

  “It’s called ‘Colby Young tweeted to thirteen million fans that Rosie serves the best fish tacos.’” Rachel pushed inside and dragged Rosie with her. “My father owned the biggest department store in New Jersey. Once the Jonas Brothers made a surprise appearance and the fans practically ripped the carpet from the floors. The place was gutted. And insurance refused to pay. His policy didn’t say anything about a stampede of teenage girls.”

  “But Colby isn’t here, it’s just me,” Rosie insisted.

  “He sprinkled you with Colby Young fairy dust.” Rachel propelled Rosie to the front door. “You’re going to be a star.”

  “I thought I was prepared, but I can’t serve all these people.” Rosie panicked, turning around and seeing the mass lunge towards the entrance.

  “That’s why you’re lucky to have me as a friend. I brought some of Patrick’s cousins; they’re going to cook. Patrick will drive to the store if you need extra supplies, and I’m going to help run the counter.”

  “What about Gold’s Chocolates?” Rosie peeked out the window at the crowd.

  “Patrick’s grandmother is taking over for the day,” Rachel answered. “Her eyesight isn’t very sharp and I’m not sure she listened to my directions. I hope she doesn’t poison anyone.”

  “How can I thank you?” Rosie asked, turning on the stove.

  “Don’t call your firstborn Colby. I want to name my baby after him, and then we couldn’t be friends.” Rachel grinned.

  “Deal.” Rosie tied an apron over her shorts.

  Rachel flipped the sign to OPEN. “Let the games begin.”

  Thirteen

  Rosie opened the door of the library, looking for Estelle. In the last few days she had only seen her in passing. Rosie hadn’t joined the Pullmans for dinner; she hadn’t jogged around the lake. She barely had time to throw her clothes on in the morning, grab a croissant from the kitchen, and dash into the store.

  From morning to night, the customers kept coming. Rosie hired three of Patrick’s cousins to cook full-time, and the phone rang off the hook. People wanted to know whether she had a “Colby” special, and how often he visited the store. Rosie had more than ten thousand likes on her Facebook page and her Twitter following was growing faster than Selena Gomez’s.

  Santa Barbara Magazine did a cover story on the girl who discarded her Birkin bag for an apron. Rosie complained to Rachel that she never owned a Birkin and Rachel insisted it was good journalism. Martha Stewart featured Rosie on her blog, and Ryan Seacrest’s television crew appeared one morning to do an interview. Rosie stared into the camera that she used to stand behind and couldn’t string two words together.

  Josh was wonderfully supportive. He brought sandwiches to the store so she ate something besides beans and tortillas. At night he massaged her back and listened to her stories about teenage girls camping out in the shop, certain Colby would make a surprise visit. When Rosie insisted he hadn’t been there in weeks, they looked at her coyly and ordered another round of tacos.

  “Rosie!” Estelle stood next to the fireplace in the library. “I was going to send out a search party; I haven’t seen you in days.”

  “You know where to find me.” Rosie grinned. “Chained to the counter of Rosie’s Fish Tacos.”

  “Still very busy?” Estelle sorted long-stemmed roses. She snipped their thorns and arranged them in a crystal vase on the side table.

  “It’s the most wonderful thing I can imagine, but at the same time it’s exhausting,” Rosie conceded. “I don’t know whether to buy myself a new pair of shoes to celebrate or get a pillow and blanket and sleep in the back of the store.”

  “Celebrity is a terrible and wonderful gift.” Estelle admired her handiwork. “But people wouldn’t keep coming if the tacos weren’t good. You should be proud, you’ve achieved great success in a short time.”

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Rosie hesitated. “Colby wrote his song about ‘doing what you love and throwing out the rule book.’ You’re the one who gave me that advice. I stole your line.”

  “I’m flattered my little words of wisdom caused a fuss.” Estelle beamed. “My children don’t listen to me often, I’m glad someone does.”

  “How is Angelica?” Rosie asked. “I’ve been so busy, I feel a little guilty. I haven’t talked to her in ages.”

  “She and Dirk are actually arriving any minute. She called and asked if they could stay for the weekend.” Estelle glanced at her watch. “She has some news. I hope it’s not an engagement ring. Dirk has excellent manners but there is something … insincere about him,” Estelle mused. “You must join us for dinner and bring Josh. I’ve been meaning to ask, how is Josh handling your success?”

  “He’s been amazing,” Rosie assured her. “I thought he wouldn’t approve of Colby’s endorsement, but he seems pleased.”

  “Josh is falling for you.” Estelle gathered rose petals. “I can tell by the way he looks at you. And he’s more confident. He walks taller and his shoulders seem broader. You’ve made him into a man and he’s ready to accept that responsibility.”

  “We talked about the future,” Rosie confessed. “Josh is hoping to buy the Classic Car Showroom, then he wants to move in together. He even mentioned buying a station wagon and having children.”

  “That’s wonderful if that’s what you
want.” Estelle looked at Rosie. “You don’t seem that pleased.”

  “I want to be with Josh.” Rosie hesitated. “He’s funny and sweet and sexy. When I’m with him I feel safe and secure.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Estelle asked.

  “I don’t want to live together,” Rosie explained. “I lived with Ben for eight years and it didn’t work. You plan a future together, but either of you can walk out at any time.”

  “Married people leave their spouses all the time,” Estelle countered.

  “But it’s different when you’re married. There are mortgages and joint bank accounts and IRAs. Anyway, I believe in marriage: exchanging vows, making a home, building a family.”

  “Nothing can make two people happier than a good marriage.” Estelle nodded. “Tell Josh you don’t want to move in with him.”

  “What if he takes it the wrong way?” Rosie wondered.

  “Knowing what you want is half the battle, saying it is the other half,” Estelle counseled. “Not wanting to move in with Josh is part of maturing. You’re learning to make the right decisions.”

  “Mom!” Angelica burst through the door. She wore a form-fitting two-piece suit that made her look like Wonder Woman. Her newly colored auburn hair cascaded down her back and she wore red stilettos.

  “Darling.” Estelle kissed her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here. Where’s Dirk?”

  “He made a beeline to the garage. Dirk is pining for Daddy’s Alfa Romeo. If he didn’t worship me, I’d worry that he only wanted me to get Daddy’s cars.” Angelica laughed. “Rosie, I haven’t talked to you in ages! I can tell you both my news.”

  “News?” Estelle glanced at Angelica’s left hand. Estelle’s cheeks paled and she twisted her tennis bracelet.

  “It’s too exciting, we just came back from London.” Angelica perched on a velvet ottoman.

  “Wow! London,” Rosie exclaimed. “What were you doing there?”

  “It was a very quick trip,” Angelica replied. “We went to meet Ridley Scott!”

  “Ridley Scott?” Rosie’s eyes were wide. Ever since film school, Ridley Scott had been one of her and Ben’s idols. Ben was crazy about Gladiator and Black Hawk Down, and Rosie had watched Thelma and Louise a dozen times.