California Summer

by Anita Hughes

  “Here’s one of Josh and Sam playing tennis.” Esmeralda pointed to another photo on the page. “Josh hated it when Sam beat him.”

  Rosie pulled her eyes from Yvette and studied the picture of Josh and Sam holding tennis racquets. Josh wore a white polo shirt and white shorts. His eyes were pale blue and his hair curled to his shoulders. The room seemed to spin and she felt dizzy. She ran out the door and collided with Morris carrying a tray of steaming clam chowder.

  * * *

  “How could you not tell me Esmeralda was Josh’s mother?” Rosie sat at the kitchen table, wrapped in a bath towel. Morris had been sent to the cottage to get her clean clothes, and Oscar was sipping cocktails in the dining room with Esmeralda.

  “It wasn’t my place to tell you,” Estelle replied. “Few people knew that Esmeralda had a family. We met when we gave birth in the hospital; Josh and Sam share a birthday. Oscar and Henry became good friends: they both had classic car collections. We only socialized at home. In public Esmeralda surrounded herself with young people, so she never aged.”

  “How could Josh not tell me,” Rosie persisted. “His mother was the most famous actress in the world.”

  “Josh is very private,” Estelle said. “It wasn’t an easy way to grow up. Josh and Yvette were very close; all they had was each other.”

  “What about Henry?” Rosie asked.

  “Henry was the loveliest man you’d ever meet, tall and blond like Josh.” Estelle handed Rosie a cup of herbal tea. “He grew up in Montecito. He discovered Esmeralda when she was seventeen. He put his career as a lawyer aside to manage her career.”

  “Why did she cheat on him?”

  “At first Esmeralda just had little flings, always with her leading man. As she got older the men became younger: pool boys, golf caddies, tennis pros. She met Trevor Tate at a premiere. She told Henry she was leaving; Josh and Yvette were already grown. She thought they could remain friends, even business partners.”

  “What happened?” Rosie leaned across the table.

  “Henry had just bought a classic Opal car. I remember Oscar was jealous; it was a real beauty,” Estelle mused. “Henry was driving north on the Pacific Coast Highway. He missed a turn and drove into the ocean. No one really knew if it was suicide or if he didn’t know how to handle the car.”

  “Oh, poor Josh.” Rosie closed her eyes. She wished he were here so that she could hold him.

  “Esmeralda was devastated. She closed up the house and checked herself into a sanatorium in Switzerland. Josh had just graduated from college; he moved in with Henry’s mother. Yvette ran off with some artist to San Francisco.”

  “Yvette!” Rosie had forgotten about Yvette: scooping her dog from the passenger seat, carrying Josh’s groceries. “Yvette is the woman I saw at Josh’s house. I thought it was an old girlfriend, but it was Josh’s sister.”

  “Yvette is here?” Estelle gasped. “We must tell Yvette that Esmeralda is in Montecito. Esmeralda came to see her children before she forgets them.”

  “I have to go. I should have knocked on Josh’s door days ago.” Rosie wrapped the towel around her and ran out of the house. “Give Esmeralda my apologies.”

  “Where are you going?” Estelle followed her.

  “Josh is going to see me, even if I have to break the door down.”

  “Rosie,” Estelle called. “You better put on some clothes.”

  * * *

  The woman who answered Josh’s door didn’t look much older than the girl in the photograph. Yvette wore a red mini skirt and a white blouse. Her hair fell to her waist and she had Esmeralda’s long dark eyelashes and smoky eyes.

  “Can I help you?” She clutched her dog, his tail waving furiously at Rosie.

  “I’m here to see Josh.” Rosie hesitated. Her confidence deserted her, and she wondered if he would talk to her. “I’m Rosie.”

  “Rosie!” Yvette eyed her curiously. “I heard about you. You’re the girl who stole my brother’s heart.”

  “I didn’t mean to barge in.” Rosie noticed a copy of Glamour and a bowl of caramel popcorn on the coffee table.

  Yvette walked into the living room and sat cross-legged on the sofa. She picked up the bowl and passed it to Rosie. “Do you want some? It’s not much of a dinner, but I’m a hopeless cook.”

  “No, thank you.” Rosie shook her head. “Josh and I had a big fight. I came by a few days ago and saw you carrying in groceries.” Rosie blushed. “I thought you were an old girlfriend and I fled.”

  “I asked Josh if I could crash for a while.” Yvette munched popcorn. “An ex-boyfriend started showing up at my window in San Francisco every time I took a shower.”

  “Is Josh here?” Rosie inquired.

  Yvette put the bowl of popcorn on the table. “He’s in Carmel, at the Concours d’Elegance.”

  Rosie’s eyes filled with tears. She had forgotten about the car auction. She should be sitting in a quaint bed-and-breakfast while Josh talked to car buyers. They would stroll the streets of Carmel and breathe in the foggy air. They’d eat at a cafe, sharing buttery crepes and drinking hot chocolate out of earthenware mugs.

  “When will Josh be back?” Rosie asked.

  Yvette studied her long red fingernails. “I’m not sure. I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He got an offer to work at a classic car dealership in Carmel.” Yvette looked at Rosie. “He’s probably going to take it.”

  “I can’t let him do that.” Rosie got up and paced around the room. “He thought I told Estelle I didn’t want to move in with him, but it was a mix-up. I meant I wanted to marry him.” She stopped and her eyes glistened. “I’m in love with him.”

  “He didn’t tell me exactly what was going on,” Yvette said. “That’s why I try never to fall in love. Someone always gets hurt.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt Josh.” Rosie twisted her hands. “And now I don’t know how to fix it. If only Angelica hadn’t told Josh I didn’t want to move in with him.”

  “Angelica and Josh have always gotten in each other’s hair,” Yvette said wisely. “When I was a teenager I had a crush on Sam, Angelica’s brother. I confided in Angelica and she confessed she thought Josh was cute. We promised not to tell anyone, and I told Josh at a swim party.” Yvette giggled. “She wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

  “What am I going to do?” Rosie crumpled on the sofa.

  “Josh is complicated.” Yvette scooped up her dog. “I’m sure he loves you, but he isn’t good at relationships. Our parents had an unconventional marriage. They were terrible role models.”

  “I came to tell you about Esmeralda and I forgot! I feel terrible,” Rosie exclaimed. “Your mother is in America. I had dinner with her; she’s staying with Estelle. I recognized her, of course; she was the most famous actress of her time. Estelle told me the whole story.”

  “My mother is in Montecito!” Yvette’s eyes widened.

  “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but I thought you and Josh should know before you see her. Your mother isn’t quite herself; she has early-onset Alzheimer’s disease,” Rosie said slowly. “She came to see you and Josh.”

  “But she’s like Peter Pan. She never gets older, she can’t die.”

  “Estelle said it’s very early,” Rosie offered. “Esmeralda remembers a lot about your childhood. She showed me a picture of you when you were ten.”

  “Josh wouldn’t talk to our mother after our father died. She lost her two favorite men at the same time.” Yvette sighed. “I’m a lot like her with relationships, but I try not to hurt anyone. I should call Josh and tell him she’s here. Then I’ll book him a flight so he can come and see her.”

  “You don’t have to book him a flight.” Rosie jumped up. She suddenly knew what she had to do. “I’m going to drive up the coast and get him.”

  “You’re going to drive to Carmel?”

  “Josh has to come home.” Rosie grabbed her purse. “Everyon
e who loves him is in Montecito.”

  Seventeen

  The waves crashed below her like cymbals in an orchestra. Rosie drove all night, her hands gripping the steering wheel. When she felt her eyes closing, she pulled over at a rest stop near Big Sur and curled up in the driver’s seat.

  Her car pulled onto the main street of Carmel in the early morning. The sky and the ocean were matching shades of gray, and the streets were slowly waking up. Rosie could smell eggs and bacon and longed to sit in the diner and drink a steaming cup of coffee.

  She parked her car on Ocean Avenue and looked for the bed-and-breakfast where she and Josh were going to stay. Carmel resembled a medieval town. The streets were narrow and there were pubs and taverns and antiques shops stuffed with musty furniture.

  Rosie climbed the steps of the Carmel Inn and rang the bell at the front desk. A man wearing a plaid shirt and slippers greeted Rosie sleepily.

  “Check-in is at three o’clock,” he said, and closed a magazine.

  “I’m looking for one of your guests, Josh Fellows,” Rosie replied. “Tall and blond, with surfer’s hair and blue eyes.”

  “I remember him. He checked out an hour ago.” The man shook his head. “His things are still in his room.”

  “Did he leave a note for Rosie by any chance?” she asked.

  The man consulted the computer on his desk. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

  “I really thought he’d be here,” Rosie insisted. “His sister said he was staying in Carmel.”

  “It’s not a very big town.” The man shrugged. “There are only four intersecting streets, like a tic-tac-toe board.”

  Rosie thanked him and walked back to the car. She didn’t want to call Josh. She had to talk to him in person. The coastal air was foggy and she wished she had brought a sweater. The cotton dress she had ripped out of Morris’ hands as he crossed the lawn was too thin, and her sandals didn’t keep her feet warm.

  Rosie turned the heater in the car on high. If Josh wanted to see her, he would have left a note. Maybe she should give up and drive back to Montecito. She drove down Ocean Avenue and turned into the parking lot of Carmel Beach.

  Josh was crouching on the cement, waxing his surfboard. He wore a black wet suit and his hair curled around his ears. He covered the board in long, easy strokes, not looking up as she raced towards him.

  “Hi,” Rosie said.

  “What are you doing here, Rosie?” Josh jumped. His eyes darkened and his jaw was set in a firm line.

  “I came to your house to tell you I didn’t accept Colby’s offer. I saw Yvette carrying in a bag of groceries. I thought she was an old girlfriend and ran away,” Rosie said in a rush. “I went back to see Yvette last night and she told me you were here.”

  “You should accept Colby’s offer; it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” Josh kept waxing his surfboard. “I have to go. A bunch of the guys are waiting for me out there.”

  “I drove four hours straight,” Rosie said. “Can we please talk?”

  “We talked enough, Rosie.” Josh didn’t look up. “What’s the point anyway? We’re different people, we want different things.”

  Rosie crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not who you said you are. Your mother is Esmeralda.”

  Josh stood up, his back stiff. “Who told you that?”

  “I met Esmeralda.” Rosie gulped. “She’s staying with Estelle.”

  “My mother is here?” Josh’s voice softened.

  “She was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease,” Rosie said quietly. “She came to see you and Yvette.”

  Josh’s face crumpled. His eyes were suddenly wet, like those of a little boy who lost his puppy.

  “She showed me a Lladró statue of a boy playing a flute. She said it looked just like you.”

  “My mother as good as killed my father,” Josh said tersely.

  “It was an accident. It’s easy to lose control of a car on the Pacific Coast Highway,” Rosie protested. “Esmeralda loves you, she wants to see you.”

  “I can’t do this, Rosie. I’m not good at relationships. Maybe I’m too stubborn or I don’t know how to communicate, but it never seems to work,” he said, and there was anguish in his voice. “I was falling in love with you and you betrayed me. It’s better that we end it before we hurt each other again.” He looked at Rosie. “I’ve been offered a job at a classic car dealership in Carmel. I want to see my mother, of course. I’ll fly down next weekend.”

  Rosie felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I didn’t betray you and I would never hurt you,” she begged. “You have to believe me. I never told Estelle I didn’t want to move in with you.”

  “Then why did Angelica say you did?” Josh asked.

  A line of surfers waited in the water. Rosie glanced at the surfboard on the ground. She took a deep breath. “I told Estelle I wanted to stand in a church and exchange vows. I want to marry you.”

  “Oh.” Josh stood so close she could see the blond stubble on his chin.

  “I was afraid you weren’t ready to get married. I couldn’t handle the rejection if you said no.”

  “I told you I wanted to live with you,” Josh reminded her.

  “I lived with Ben for eight years, and it took five minutes for him to get up and leave.” Rosie’s voice shook. “I want to be connected in so many ways it would take years to unravel us.”

  “My parents were married for thirty years and my mother still told my father she wanted to leave him,” he responded.

  “They lasted thirty years, and maybe Esmeralda would have changed her mind,” Rosie insisted. “They had two beautiful children and a home. They invested in each other.”

  “I always felt my mother would rather be in Hollywood, sipping champagne at the Chateau Marmont,” Josh replied. “She hid her husband and her kids because she was ashamed of us.”

  “She was terrified of growing old, of the public not loving her anymore. And she wanted to protect you and Yvette from the paparazzi,” Rosie urged. “It’s terrible to grow up with a camera pointed in your face.”

  “It still hurt. I was just a kid who wanted to be loved.” Josh flinched. “I don’t know how to forgive her, and it’s hard to trust others.”

  “I love you and I’ll never quit on you,” Rosie whispered.

  Josh looked at Rosie and touched her cheek. He pulled her towards him and hugged her against his chest. “You’re shivering,” he whispered into her hair.

  “Can we get in the car?” Rosie asked. “I didn’t dress for fog.”

  They got in the car and stared at the beach. A man walked his dog and carried a big stick. A couple walked arm in arm, wearing matching fisherman’s sweaters.

  “I sold the MG,” Josh said. “I made a mint.”

  “I knew you would.” Rosie beamed. “She was a beauty.”

  “I think I’ll turn down the job at the dealership in Carmel. I don’t really like it here. People say the waves in Carmel are awesome, but they break right onto the rocks,” Josh mused. “It’s not a good beach for surfing.”

  “I’m glad. It’s so foggy.” Rosie rubbed her hands together from the cold. “I heard you only see the sun in Carmel in October.”

  “And everyone eats organic food. There isn’t a single diner that makes a decent cheeseburger with fries.” Josh sighed.

  “I’d do anything for something hot to eat right now.” Rosie’s teeth chattered. “Let’s grab a bowl of soup and drive back to Montecito.”

  Josh turned her face towards his and kissed her. His lips were moist and salty. “There is something I want to ask you first. The front seat of a car isn’t the ideal place, but if I don’t do it now, I don’t know when I will.” He reached into his bag and took out a velvet box. “Rosie Keller, will you marry me?”

  “You’re asking me to marry you?” Rosie had never been more surprised in her life.

  “I bought the ring after I asked you to move in with me.” He snapped it open an
d revealed a small diamond on a gold band. “It’s not much, but the jeweler in the village gave me a great deal.” He stopped. “Marriage scared me, but I knew it was the right thing to do. You’re everything to me and I don’t want to be without you.”

  “But you never said anything.” Rosie scanned her memory for any hint that Josh wanted to marry her.

  “I was going to ask you the weekend that Angelica and Dirk came to visit, but we got into a terrible fight about their wedding.” He paused. “Then Angelica said you didn’t want to live with me and I was so angry. But I’m asking you now. I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy. I love you, Rosie, will you marry me?”

  Josh took the ring out of the box, and she studied it in the morning light. Her heart pounded and she took a deep breath.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She nodded. “But I have one request.”

  “What is it?” Josh looked up.

  “It’s only a small one.” Her eyes danced. “I want to elope.”

  “Are you sure you want to elope?” he asked. “I thought you wanted a church wedding and a white poufy dress and a six-tier wedding cake.”

  “I thought I did, but all I want is to read our vows and the minister to pronounce us husband and wife,” Rosie said. “Angelica is my best friend, and if we plan a wedding now it will interfere with hers. And if we wait, the date will be too far away. Besides, planning a wedding is as stressful as producing a movie. I don’t want to spend my days choosing a site and creating budgets and overseeing vendors.”

  “But what about your parents and the dress and the cake?” Josh asked, rubbing his forehead.

  “My parents got married at a registrar’s office and their wedding cake was from Carvel. They’ll understand.” She shrugged. “We’ll have a party next summer when Angelica and Dirk are back from Europe.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, fiddling with the diamond ring.

  “We can drive to Reno next weekend.” Rosie nodded. “Maybe we’ll stop on the way back and pick up a puppy. I’d love to start our life together with a dog.”