by Kaira Rouda
Dane was beginning to feel like that with his own mom, he realized. And it sucked.
“Sure, I’ll call you guys into the gate,” Dane said, sliding into the seat next to Collin. They sat in the back of the classroom, and he knew the econ teacher was relieved. Collin was too much of an attention magnet if he sat in front. Together, they were considered “trouble” by the staff. Dane liked that, a better moniker than “loser.”
He realized he didn’t know anything about Doug, hadn’t hung out with him before, but if Collin thought he was cool, then so did Dane. “Have you started your college apps?” Dane hoped he sounded casual. He knew he’d been a dick to the counselor his parents had hired, at considerable expense, and the guy had quit. Now he was on his own, something that was freaking him out inside. He didn’t want to end up at community college, even if he acted like he didn’t care when he was around his annoying mom. He didn’t really want to end up on the streets in LA either, even though he’d pick that life over not going anywhere.
“I finished my essay,” Collin said, tapping his pencil on the desk. “My mom’s not going to like it if she ever reads it, but whatever. I needed to get it done for NYU. With soccer and grades, I should get in.”
“What’d you write about your mom?” Dane asked, thinking he could write a book about his.
“Just a little tale about how wonderful it is to be raised by a pot-smoking, bipolar hippie in a cottage on a hill so high nobody will visit except her revolving younger lover shitheads from LA,” he said. The tone of his voice was light, but his dark eyes had grown darker, his jaw clenched. “Sounds like a great childhood, right?”
“Probably a great essay,” Dane said, feeling like a baby for feeling sorry for himself and his stupid life. He had it easy, but still. “I need to figure out what to write about.”
“How about unrequited love,” Collin said, punching him in the arm as Ashley Nelson walked in the door. “God, she’s hot. Too bad we grew up together. You didn’t.”
“I hadn’t even noticed her,” Dane said, staring at the most beautiful girl in the world as she took her seat at the front of the room. Every song he’d written since he’d moved to this weather-blessed hellhole had been inspired by her, by the type of girl she was who would never, in a million years, fall for a neurotic guy like him.
After suffering through econ and his last class of the day, English 12 with arcane reading assignments and a teacher who smelled like a ham sandwich, he was free. He pulled into the gates of Diamond Bay and drove to the basketball court. He had a change of clothes in his car; he had enough stuff to live for a week crammed into his backseat. He didn’t want to go home, even though he knew not doing so would prompt a phone call from his mom.
A few minutes later, Collin and Doug pulled up next to him in Doug’s Leaf.
“Nice car,” Dane said.
“Fuck off,” Doug said. “It’s my mom’s. Not everybody’s daddy gives them a Lexus sedan to cruise town in.”
They didn’t, Dane realized, and shut up, getting out of his car.
“Let’s play,” Collin said, extracting himself from the tiny car and throwing a basketball to Dane. “Doug here is very interested in scoring some weed. You got any?”
“Me? No,” Dane said as they walked across the park to the court. “Remember, I had that bad reaction, the hot box?”
“I told him, dude, told him you’re clean,” Collin said. “Enough about that shit, Doug.”
Collin held his hands up for the ball. Dane passed it to him and Collin went up for a shot.
“Do you know who I can get some from?” Doug asked, suddenly standing too close to Dane as they watched Collin shoot again. “I’m just looking for something, really anything to make it through the day.”
Dane looked at Doug, his reddish brown hair, his almost full beard, his football player physique, and thought, Here’s another guy who’s as over high school as I am. Welcome to the club.
“Sorry man. I can’t help you. I don’t touch anything,” Dane said, running to join Collin on the court. “What’s wrong with him? He’s like desperate to score something.”
“I know. It’s all he talks about,” Collin said, passing Dane the ball. “But when he finally does, I’m hoping he’ll share it.”
“Dude, no,” Dane said, taking a shot and smiling as it went in the basket. “We made a pact.”
“Let’s just see what he finds,” Collin said, cutting in front of Dane and grabbing the ball. “Doug, are you playing?”
“I’m playing,” Doug said, reluctantly lumbering onto the court. He didn’t seem happy to be there, stealing the ball from Collin and breaking for the basket. Maybe he should just get in his Leaf and go home.
“Where do you live?” Dane asked, passing Doug the ball.
“Over the canyon, wrong side of the tracks. You know that group of condos that is only considered part of Crystal Beach because the city annexed it to try to stop the toll road? That place,” Doug said, a rather long-winded explanation, Dane thought. Is he trying to get sympathy and drugs?
“Where’d you come from?” Dane asked, as Collin scooped up the ball after Doug’s basket attempt fell short of the rim.
“Long Beach,” Doug said.
“Enough with the twenty questions, dude,” Collin said to Dane. “The guy is new, just like you were.”
The guy is weird, Dane thought, but decided to drop it. Everybody was weird in their own way, he knew, but something wasn’t right about Doug. He hoped Collin would see that too.
And, truth be told, Dane was a little jealous that Doug was getting Collin’s attention. He needed his wingman back in his life, no matter how he’d acted during the summer. Without Collin, he’d never survive this year.
SARAH
Sarah was still in shock.
But it was her idea to meet for dinner so she couldn’t cancel, she reminded herself as she struggled to find a parking spot in town. Crystal Beach was mostly tourist-free from now until Thanksgiving so she wasn’t sure why she was having so much trouble parking, except for the fact she was in shock. The doctor had tried to keep her at his office longer, telling her she could lie down in an extra exam room. But what good would that have done? The facts were the facts. And the fact was, she was screwed. Her outward appearance matched the truth of her life. It was all a fake. As much as she had been complicit in her unexamined life up to this point, she was determined to take control of the future. She just wasn’t sure how to do it.
She pulled into a spot and checked her makeup. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Even before she got the news, some part of her knew she’d need a friend tonight, somebody to talk to, and that part of her had been correct. Now she just hoped she could find the strength to tell Lynne what was going on.
“Konbanwa!” Hapi said from behind the sushi bar.
“Good evening!” Sarah answered, relieved to find only two other people in the entire restaurant. Unfortunately, it was somebody she knew. Zoe Wilson and her son, Collin, a boy who seemed on the edge of anger at all times, at least when she saw him with his mom. Collin and Ashley had been friends since preschool, but Sarah had absolutely nothing in common with Zoe and was relieved Ashley never fell for Collin. Zoe was a working mom with all that implied. That’s why Collin had become a bad boy, even though Sarah knew he was smart. It was all in the parenting, or lack thereof. Poor kid. Sarah was thankful that at least she’d done the parenting thing right, if nothing else. That was part of the program she’d signed up for, the path made clear from the moment Ashley had entered preschool. But now what? she wondered.
Zoe had a pained expression on her face when she greeted Sarah, maybe because of how Sarah looked. Sarah knew the whole town expected her to be a fashion plate at all times. She felt her cheeks flush. She needed to check herself in a mirror again.
“Hey, Mrs. Nelson,” Collin said, his dark eyes shining as he held a piece of sushi with chopsticks. “How are you? How’s Ashley? I haven’t seen her much lately.”
“Hi, Collin, Zoe,” Sarah said, dropping her hand, patting Collin on the shoulder, feeling the boy stiffen. “She’s fine, thanks. I haven’t seen her around much either, not since she started dating Blake. Enjoy your dinner.”
Sarah hurried to the back corner booth and slid all the way in until she was pressed against the wall. She rummaged around in her purse and pulled out the brochure Dr. Livingston had handed to her. She looked around before putting it on the table, rubbing the back of her stiff neck, willing herself to relax, to drop her shoulders, to breathe. The brochure was trifold and, fortunately, the front panel was discreet. Just a photo of a couple, holding hands, walking away from her.
“Hiya, hey,” Hapi said, and Sarah saw Melanie burst through the door.
Sarah had forgotten Melanie would be eating with them, too. Great, now I can’t talk about what’s going on. Where is Lynne anyway?
Melanie greeted Zoe and Collin before she spotted Sarah in the back and gave her a wave while hurrying over to the booth.
“So sorry I’m late. Dane and I had to have our usual fight,” she said sliding into the booth across from Sarah.
“Ashley and I never fight,” she said, suddenly wondering if that was because she’d given her daughter everything she’d ever wanted and more. Sarah had never stopped to question saying yes because the reward was glowing in the light of her daughter’s achievements. Ashley was her BFF, at least until this year and the boyfriend. “We’re best friends.”
“Interesting approach to parenting. Better than enemies I suppose,” Melanie said.
The waiter appeared and Melanie said, “I need a double chardonnay, pronto. Sarah?”
“A warm saki, I guess,” she said. She didn’t even know if she was allowed to drink on her new medicine. She wanted to check the brochure or the prescription bottle, but both were hidden inside her purse.
“I wish there was a parenting handbook, I swear I do. Guess it’s too late for us, though. I can already feel the emptiness in my house and Dane’s still around,” Melanie said, leaning forward, her chin resting on clasped hands. She seemed to be slurring her words, but she hadn’t had a drink yet. “Where’s Lynne? She still coming?”
“I think so,” Sarah said, pulling out her phone. “Oh, here’s a text.” Sarah’s stomach dropped when she read the message. “She can’t make it. It’s just you and me.” Goodie! Sarah shoved the phone back into her purse. This day just keeps getting better. Melanie was staring across the booth at her, her big brown eyes doe-like. Fine, Sarah thought, I’ll talk to her. I don’t have any choice. Miss Ohio is probably drunk and won’t remember what I say anyway.
“In addition to a parenting handbook, I wish there was a marriage manual,” Sarah said, folding her arms on the table, fighting the tears welling up in her eyes. “What makes a relationship turn toxic? Is it midlife? Simple boredom? Opportunity? I don’t know why I’ve never thought about it before. It’s like I’ve been living on autopilot for twenty years.”
“What’s wrong?” Melanie asked. The waiter delivered their drinks and Melanie took a big gulp of her wine. “What’s going on?”
“This is so embarrassing. I don’t know if I can trust you,” Sarah said. She knew she sounded harsh, but this woman from the Midwest wasn’t her friend, not really. She was an acquaintance who lived nearby. Why was she here, alone with her?
“You can trust me. I don’t really have any friends here,” Melanie said, dropping her gaze to the top of her wineglass. “I’d like to have friends but I’m not like all of you beautiful people. Lynne takes pity on me and asks me to do things sometimes. You can trust me.”
Sarah took a deep breath, rubbing the back of her neck. “Dr. Livingston just told me I have herpes, vaginal herpes,” Sarah said with a hushed voice as tears popped into her eyes and began rolling down her sculpted cheeks faster than she could brush them away. The physical pain of sitting there in that booth was almost matched by the emotional pain in her heart. Her private parts were on fire, alternating between a pulsing hotness and a searing jab. The doctor had explained it would take a couple of days to subside. “He said it’s possible Jud was exposed before we married and it has been dormant all these years. He told me not to panic. He said people have it for years without symptoms. ‘Happens all the time,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t mean he cheated.’ That’s what the doctor said. Oh my God, do not tell a soul.”
Melanie reached out and touched Sarah’s arm. “Of course not. I’m sorry. It sucks to have it, but it doesn’t mean anything. You’ll be all right.”
Sarah looked down at her hands, her giant wedding ring sparkling in the light from the candle. Melanie had no idea what she was talking about. Nothing would be all right, not ever again. Ashley was leaving home and she was the only thing holding them together.
“I don’t mean anything to him anymore,” Sarah said, speaking the truth she’d known inside for at least two years. She couldn’t believe she was admitting this, to a woman who was a near stranger. Perhaps there was a freedom in that, she realized. “I think there is somebody else. He’s never home.”
“A lot of men travel for work. I wish Keith would travel more sometimes,” Melanie said, turning away from the booth, waving her hand in the air. “Another wine, please, dozo!”
“Courtship is such a con game. You want the other person to like you, so you’re never going to show them your worst side, not until it’s too late and you’re married. Stuck with each other,” Sarah said. She’d found a tissue in her purse and blew her nose. The sadness inside her was like a bottomless pit. If she allowed herself to go there, she’d never come out. Instead, she pulled out a compact and opened it, staring at her reflection. She barely recognized the person—the creature—she’d become. Why had she allowed him to change her appearance so fundamentally? Why had she been a willing guinea pig in the latest and greatest cosmetic procedures? What was wrong with her in the first place? When they’d fallen in love, Jud had told her she was perfect. But then, he’d changed her into this. She’d been pretty and popular, athletic and even smart when they’d met. Now she was, what? She closed the compact and felt her heart racing. “I hardly recognize myself.”
“Sarah, stop, you’re being too hard on yourself,” Melanie said, reaching across the table and patting her hand. Sarah felt the kindness of the other woman’s touch until she noticed an age spot had developed near the base of her own thumb and yanked her hand away. She’d need to have it removed. “You’re beautiful. You could be on the Real Housewives of Crystal Beach. Everyone stares when you walk into a room. Trust me, I know.”
Sarah shook her head. “People know this is all fake. The whole town knows how old we are. I have a daughter who is a senior in high school and I’m eligible for AARP for heaven’s sake.”
“I got that mailing, too,” Melanie said. “Tossed it into the recycling.”
“Me, too, but still, we’re seniors,” Sarah said.
“You don’t have a wrinkle on your face or your neck. Nobody would ever guess,” Melanie said.
Sarah stared at the veins on her hands, the emerging age spot by her thumb. “How long can I keep up this façade?”
“Well, clearly, I don’t know since I haven’t started. But Joan Rivers looked great until the end,” Melanie said.
“Ready to order?” the waiter asked, dropping off Melanie’s wine.
“Sure, just bring us a combo platter or something, please,” Sarah answered. She couldn’t look at a menu, and really couldn’t imagine being able to swallow anything right now. The medicine was making her dizzy, but at least she was finding it easier to sit here. She no longer wanted to scream because of the physical pain. Maybe it was the sake, too, she thought.
“What are you going to do?” Melanie asked, her brown eyes soft and caring.
Sarah didn’t know why she was spilling her beans to a clueless person like Melanie. Of course she didn’t have any insights to offer. Maybe that was why she had decided to tell her, she realized. Thei
r lives were so different, so disconnected that her opinions didn’t matter anyway. She pondered the question, enjoying the feel of the warm saki flowing down her throat.
“Confront him, if he ever comes back in town. He’s gone all week, almost every week now. I know his speaking schedule has picked up, but he can say no. It feeds his ego, but it isn’t like we need the money. He doesn’t have to travel this much. He wants to travel this much. I know it.”
“Have you stalked him at all? Checked out his Facebook page? Read his texts?” Melanie asked, pulling out her phone to begin the process. She raised her eyebrows and looked at Sarah. “Y’all have a house in the desert?”
“Ha. No, we don’t,” Sarah said. “I wish. I always loved Palm Springs, but Jud doesn’t like me in the sun. Makes me carry an open umbrella everywhere. It’s embarrassing. It’s too dry there, bad for my skin, he says.”
“Well, unless there’s another Jud Nelson of Crystal Beach, it’s your lucky day,” Melanie said, turning the small screen toward Melanie.
“I can’t read that. I don’t have my glasses, but I’m sure it’s a mistake. A typo,” Sarah said, her stomach clenched as her neck stiffened. This can’t be happening, she thought. It wasn’t possible that her husband owned a home in the desert and she didn’t know about it. That didn’t happen in real life. That was the plotline of made-for-TV movies. This woman sitting across from her, a woman she’d never choose as a friend, was mistaken, that’s all. Sarah pulled the brochure out of her purse again, and opened it up. Graphic depictions of her disease greeted her and she shoved it back inside her purse. Instead she pulled out her compact, dusting powder across her forehead and nose.
“He’s there now, right?”
“What? Where?” Sarah said.
“Jud is in Palm Springs. He just checked in at a restaurant on Foursquare and it posted to Facebook. That’s pretty stupid, actually. He didn’t need to share it publicly; there’s a button you can just check off,” Melanie said as the waiter slid a large platter of colorful seafood onto the table. Sarah felt sick. She pushed the platter toward Melanie. “Are you okay?” Melanie asked.
