The Sometimes Daughter

by Sherri Wood Emmons

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t seem to find my voice. All I could do was hold her with one arm, and clutch the fence with my other hand.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling me forward. “We’re almost there.”

  We let ourselves be pushed toward the forbidden, empty beach. When we reached the sand, we dropped to our knees and sat a moment. Kamran splashed in the shallow water, happy again.

  “Are you okay?” Mama asked again.

  “I guess so,” I said. “I swallowed water.”

  “You’ll be okay,” she said, smiling at me. “And look, here we are!”

  She waved her hand at the empty white sand. But all I could look at was the fence extending far into the water. I didn’t want to go out there again.

  “Come on,” Mama said, rising and extending her hand. “Let’s take a walk.”

  I allowed myself to be pulled along, still feeling sick to my stomach.

  “God,” she said softly, “look how big these houses are. Who needs a house that big?”

  I looked at a house she pointed to far down the beach and saw a man standing on the deck. He was watching us with binoculars.

  “Mama, I don’t think we should be here.”

  “It’s all right, Judy. No one cares if we walk on the beach.”

  She was wrong about that, as it turned out. We hadn’t walked more than a few yards when a dune buggy appeared on the beach, its yellow light flashing as it drove toward us.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” a young man said as he stopped the buggy in front of us. “This is private property, and you’re trespassing.”

  “Oh pish,” Mama said, smiling brightly at the man. “We’re just taking a walk. The beach belongs to everybody.”

  “No, ma’am,” the man said firmly. “This beach belongs to the homeowners, and you will have to leave now.”

  “Come on, Mama,” I said, pulling at her hand. “Let’s go.”

  “No,” Mama said, the smile fading from her face. “I am a taxpayer, and the beach belongs to everybody. We’re just taking a walk, for God’s sake. It’s not like we’re staking the place out.”

  The man took out a radio and raised it to his mouth, but before he could speak, another man appeared on foot, a tall, blond man wearing shorts and a white shirt. He was very handsome and very tanned.

  “It’s okay, Luke,” the newcomer said. “They’re my guests.”

  He smiled at Mama. After a moment, she smiled back.

  “You sure, Mr. Jenson?” The security guard looked from the man to Mama and back again.

  “Yes, it’s okay. I’ll vouch for them.” Mr. Jenson smiled at the guard, then again at Mama.

  “Okay.” The guard climbed back into his dune buggy. “You know how to get in touch if you need anything.” He gave us one last, long scowl and drove away.

  We stood in awkward silence for a minute, then Mama said, “Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

  He grinned at her, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges.

  “He’s just doing his job,” he said, nodding toward the retreating buggy. “But he takes it a little too seriously sometimes.”

  “Well,” Mama said, smiling back at him. “We really appreciate your help. And ... we don’t want to keep you.”

  “You’re not keeping me from anything,” Mr. Jenson said. “I saw you come around the fence. Looks like you got banged up a little bit.”

  He was looking at my knees, which were scraped and bloody.

  “Oh, Judy,” Mama said. “I didn’t see you were hurt. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I lied. I wasn’t okay at all. My knees stung, my shoulder hurt from crashing into the fence, and my stomach was full of the ocean.

  “Here,” the man said, gesturing toward the huge house we’d been looking at. “I’ve got some first aid cream.”

  “Oh no,” Mama said. “We can’t impose on you like that.”

  “It’s no imposition,” he said, turning to walk toward the house. He looked over his shoulder and smiled again. “Can’t have your little girl wandering around like that.”

  Mama took my hand and we followed him toward the house. It was peach-colored stucco with huge windows facing the ocean. We climbed the stairs to the deck where he’d been watching us with the binoculars.

  “Here,” he said, gesturing toward a table. “Have a seat and I’ll find the first aid kit.”

  He disappeared into the house. Mama sat down on a brightly cushioned chair at the table, Kamran on her lap. She shaded her eyes and gazed out at the water, smiling. After a minute, I sat down, too.

  Mr. Jenson reappeared with a small bag, a wet washrag, and some soap. After Mama had washed my knees, he handed her some ointment from the bag and she smeared it on the scrapes.

  “There,” she said, smiling. “You’ll be as good as new.

  “Really, I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Jenson,” she said, handing the ointment back to the man.

  “It’s no problem,” he said. “A little bit of excitement in an otherwise boring day. And please, call me Jack.”

  “Well, thank you, Jack. I’m Cassie, this is Judy, and this little guy is Kamran.” Mama waved the baby’s hand at the man.

  Just then a woman appeared in the doorway. She was dark-skinned with jet-black hair, wearing an apron and sensible-looking shoes. She carried a tray with a pitcher and three glasses.

  “Thank you, Martina,” Mr. Jenson said as she sat the tray on the table. “Lemonade?” he asked, turning to Mama.

  Martina poured lemonade into the glasses and handed them around.

  “Well, thank you,” Mama said again. “This is very nice.”

  Martina disappeared into the house without a word.

  “So.” Mr. Jenson leaned one elbow on the table. “Are you from LA or just visiting?”

  “I live in Pasadena,” Mama said. “But Judy is here visiting from Indiana.”

  He turned to look at me. “I grew up in Michigan,” he said, as though that might mean something to me. I nodded and took a sip of lemonade.

  “And what do you do in Pasadena?” he asked Mama.

  “I’m a stay-at-home mom,” she said, bouncing Kamran on her knee.

  “And is there a husband at home?”

  Mama laughed. “Well, there is a husband, but he’s not at home very much.”

  My mouth dropped open slightly. She was flirting.

  “Doesn’t sound like a very smart husband,” Mr. Jenson said.

  “And is there a Mrs. Jenson?” Mama asked, smiling at him.

  “There is a soon-to-be-ex-Mrs. Jenson,” he said, smiling back at her.

  “Ah, I’m sorry,” Mama said.

  “Well, I’m not,” he replied, laughing.

  We sat on the deck for almost two hours, Mama and Mr. Jenson chatting away while Kamran dozed on her lap and I stared at the ocean, willing Mama to get up so we could leave.

  Finally, I said, “We better go home now. Navid’s gonna wonder where we are.”

  Mama glanced at me and I saw she was annoyed. But she quickly smiled. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, rising from the chair and moving Kamran from her lap to her shoulder.

  “Already?” Mr. Jenson rose, too. “Well, let me at least drive you back to your car. I can’t let you go around the fence again. That really is a dangerous thing to do.”

  As we walked through the house to the garage, I gazed around me, trying to take it all in, every detail, so I could tell Lee Ann about it. The house was beautiful inside, all gleaming light wood and white furniture. A huge grand piano sat in a corner. On it were dozens of framed photographs.

  “Is that Johnny Carson?” Mama said, stopping in front of the piano and pointing to a photo.

  “Yes,” Mr. Jenson said. “He lives a couple doors down. Nice guy.”

  I recognized several other famous faces on the piano. Mr. Jenson must be some kind of celebrity himself, I guessed.

  In the garage, we climbed into a jeep, Kamr
an sitting on Mama’s lap, because there was no car seat. Mr. Jenson drove us back to the public beach and smiled at Mama as she climbed out of the car.

  “Come back sometime,” he said, holding her eyes for a minute. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, which he pressed into her hand. “Or call.”

  Then he turned and smiled at me. “Enjoy your visit, Judy.”

  With that, he drove back toward the gated community.

  “Well,” Mama said, sighing softly. “Wasn’t that something?”

  I didn’t answer her as we trudged back across the public beach to retrieve our things.

  We packed up our things and drove back to Pasadena in silence. Kamran ate graham crackers and played with a set of keys. Mama smiled and hummed softly as she drove. I stared out the window, wishing I was back in Indiana.

  “Judy,” Mama said as she parked the car in front of her apartment building. “Let’s not mention what happened today to Navid, okay?”

  I pulled the cooler from the trunk, saying nothing.

  “It’s just ... he wouldn’t understand,” she said, catching my hand. “He’d get all freaked out and ... well, let’s just not tell him, okay?”

  I remembered suddenly the time all those years before when she’d asked me not to tell Daddy I had been sick after I ate the brownies. And just as suddenly I had a vivid picture of Mama and Derrick rushing from the bedroom, half dressed, right before I threw up that day.

  “Whatever,” I said, pulling my hand from hers.

  When we got into the apartment, I headed for my room, ready for a shower. Ready to be away from Mama. When I emerged from the bathroom, she was sitting on the couch, looking at the business card Mr. Jenson had given her.

  “You should throw that away,” I said.

  “Oh, God!” She jumped. “You startled me.”

  She laughed and slipped the card into her wallet. “I’m not going to call him. It’s just ... nice that someone finds me interesting, you know?”

  “Navid thinks you’re interesting,” I said. “Daddy thought you were interesting, too.”

  I didn’t mean to say the last part. It just came out.

  Mama sighed. “Someday, you’ll understand, sweetheart.”

  She rose and walked to the kitchen. “I’m making lentils and rice for dinner. Does that sound good?”

  Navid noticed my skinned knees as soon as he walked into the apartment.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Oh, she fell on the sand,” Mama said, kissing his cheek. “It’s nothing, just skinned knees.”

  After dinner, I called Daddy.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You sure? You don’t sound okay.”

  “I’m just homesick, I guess.”

  He laughed. “Already? We’ve only been here two days.” “Daddy? Can you come over tomorrow?”

  “I guess that depends, honey. What are you and Cassie doing?”

  “I don’t know. But can you come anyway?”

  “Judy, are you all right?”

  “I’m okay,” I repeated. “I just miss you.”

  “Okay, honey,” he said softly. “Tomorrow, I’ll come see you.”

  “I love you,” I said, closing my eyes against the tears.

  “I love you too, peanut.”

  I lay in bed that night wishing I was back in my own room in Indiana, just Daddy and me ... or even Daddy and me and Treva, for that matter. I wished we hadn’t come to California again. I wished Mama was like she’d been the last time we were here, laughing and dancing in the living room. She’d been happy then, hadn’t she?

  Now she seemed frustrated and restless, antsy ... almost like she was spoiling for a fight. Mama was messing up again, and I didn’t want to be here to see it happen. I wanted to remember her just the way she was last summer. I didn’t want to see the way she was now.

  I sighed unhappily, thinking again about how she’d asked me to lie to Navid, just like she’d asked me to lie to Daddy all those years ago.

  Why couldn’t Mama ever just be happy?

  28

  The next morning, Daddy knocked on the door just after Navid left for work.

  “Kirk,” Mama said, pulling her robe closed. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  “I was hoping I could hang out with you and Judy today,” Daddy said. “Is that all right? My ten o’clock call fell through, so I’m free for the day.”

  “Well, sure. I guess so.” Mama walked into the kitchen. “Do you want coffee? Have you had breakfast?”

  “I’ve eaten,” he said. “But coffee sounds good. Hey, peanut!” He kissed the top of my head. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay,” I said. I was eating pancakes.

  Mama poured a cup of coffee for him and sat down at the table next to me.

  “I was just asking Judy what she wanted to do today,” she said.

  “Well, I was thinking maybe we could all go to Disneyland,” Daddy said, smiling at me. “I know that was on Judy’s wish list.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Mama said.

  “My treat,” Daddy said. “Come on, Cassie, it’ll be fun. I bet Kamran will like it, too.”

  “He’s too little,” Mama said. “And it’s such a long drive. And it’s expensive, Kirk. You can’t believe how much it costs.”

  “We’re on vacation,” Daddy said. “And I brought some extra cash. You want to go, don’t you, Judy?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding at him. “That sounds like fun.”

  Mama said nothing for a minute. She sipped her coffee and looked at Daddy, then at me. Finally, she sighed.

  “Oh, all right,” she said. “It’s not my kind of place, but if Judy wants to go, then I guess we’ll go.”

  “Thanks, Mama,” I said, rising and putting my plate in the sink.

  Daddy drank his coffee while Mama and I dressed. Then we waited while Mama got the baby ready to go. After what seemed like an hour, we were ready.

  “I’ll drive,” Daddy said.

  “You don’t know how to get there,” Mama protested.

  “I got directions at the hotel,” Daddy said. “There’s a map in the car. And you know the way, so you can navigate if we get lost.”

  Daddy opened the door of the red Honda he had rented. “All we need is Kamran’s car seat.”

  We moved the car seat from Mama’s car into the Honda, then Mama climbed into the front seat beside Daddy and I sat in back with the baby. After a two-hour drive, during which we sat for long periods on the freeway not moving at all, we arrived.

  “Wow,” I said, climbing out of the car. The parking lot was even bigger than the one at the airport. “It must be a mile just to get to the gate.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mama said, pulling Kamran from the car. “There’s a little train that takes us.”

  We waited at a covered kiosk, then boarded a train that dropped us at the front gate.

  “Wow,” I said again, as we entered the main street. “It’s just like in the pictures.”

  Daddy rented a stroller for Kamran and we let ourselves be pushed along by the crowd.

  “Look at all the shops,” I said. “I have to get something for Lee Ann.”

  “Oh, you don’t want to buy anything here,” Mama said. “Everything here is overpriced junk.”

  “I have my own money,” I snapped. “And I told her I’d get her something.”

  Mama sighed and rolled her eyes at Daddy. He just laughed.

  “Let’s wait till the end of the day to buy stuff,” he said. “That way we don’t have to carry it around all day.”

  Kamran began fussing in his stroller.

  “I think he needs a change,” Daddy said, bending over him and holding his nose.

  “I’ll get him,” Mama said sharply. She pulled the baby from the stroller and scanned the street for a bathroom. “You guys wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Daddy and I sat on a bench,
the stroller in front of us.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “She just gets on my nerves sometimes.”

  He laughed. “Well, that’s probably the first normal mother-daughter moment you’ve had with her in a long time.”

  I shrugged.

  “Seriously, honey, it’s pretty normal for mothers and daughters to get on each other’s nerves sometimes.”

  “I guess so.”

  I thought about telling him about Mr. Jenson, but I didn’t want to ruin the day. I’d never been to Disneyland, after all.

  Mama waved as she walked toward us. She was so pretty, her blond hair hanging straight down her back, green eyes sparkling, hips swaying in her tight, hip-hugging jeans. For the millionth time, I wished she was more like Lee Ann’s mom and less like ... well, like Mama.

  Mrs. Dawson wasn’t much older than Mama, I realized with a start. But she would never wear such tight jeans and such a low-cut top. And she wouldn’t flirt with other men ... especially not in front of Lee Ann. Not like Mama had done yesterday with Mr. Jensen. Mrs. Dawson was a mom. Even though she only had one kid and Mama had two, Mrs. Dawson knew how to be a mother in a way Mama didn’t seem to get.

  Mrs. Dawson was a grown-up, I thought, and Mama was still like a kid—immature and pretty irresponsible. After all, even I knew better than to trespass on a private beach, or to go so deep in the ocean with a baby. Mama just did whatever she wanted to, even if other people got hurt.

  “Here,” Daddy said when Mama reached us. “Before you put him back in the stroller, let me take a picture of you guys in front of that fountain.”

  We stood smiling at him, Mama’s arm around my waist.

  “Good,” he said, snapping away.

  “Would you like me to take one of all of you?” An older woman tapped Daddy’s shoulder.

  “Sure,” he said, smiling at her. He showed her how to use the camera and then came to stand beside me, his hand on my shoulder.

  “You have a beautiful family,” the woman said as she handed the camera back to him.

  “Oh, we’re not ...” Mama started.

  “Thank you,” Daddy said, smiling first at the woman, then at me.

  Mama stared at him as the woman walked away, arm in arm with her husband.