by Lark Lane
My next stop was the student union. I’d arranged to meet Steve the same place as before to return the scanner. I was early, so I went inside to buy a cold drink. It was only mid morning, and it had to be over eighty degrees out. I needed something cold for the drive to my final errand at the Galleria to try on bridesmaid dresses.
I picked up a forty-eight ouncer and filled it with ice before putting in the tea. The union was practically empty. On my way to the exit an argument echoed from the other side of the wall, the corridor to the bathrooms. I didn’t think anything about it until a certain name was mentioned.
“You owe me.” A woman’s voice. “J.D. threw me out. They deactivated my badge. I’ve lost everything. My severance, my stock options. I’ve lost him.”
“J.D. Reider was never yours to lose.” I recognized Steve’s voice. “Our sources say he was using you the same way you used him.”
“He loves me! He just doesn’t…”
“He just doesn’t realize it?” Steve laughed. “How many women have sung that song? Poor sad Nicole. A man in love doesn’t throw his woman under the bus.”
“Whatever. You still owe me. I stole that scanner for you, and they know it. They’ll file charges.”
J.D. was telling the truth.
“But they don’t know it. You’re pathetic, Nicole, but you’re not stupid. You wouldn’t admit to such a crime, and they have no proof. But I have proof. I have the scanner, and I have the MolyMo checks you cashed.”
He was lying to her. He didn’t have the scanner yet.
“You bastard,” she said.
“Leave my mother out of this. Ba-da-boom. What? No sense of humor? Nicole, Nicole. Here’s my advice. Tell BlueMagick you want a nice fat severance package or you’ll sue for sexual harassment. And stay away from me and MolyMo. I never want to see you again.”
“Bastard.” She was crying now. The click-click-click of someone running in stacked heels got louder. I flattened myself against the wall as the red-haired girl emerged from the corridor and headed for the student union door.
Crap! Any second, Steve was bound to follow. No way was I giving him that scanner. I spun and rushed in the opposite direction out of the building, circling the long way around when I got outside. I made it to my car, but I couldn’t relax until after the split to Business 80.
Hell, I didn’t relax until I pulled up at Nordstrom’s at the Galleria and no one followed me into the store. I found Lisa waiting in a dressing room upstairs, a strapless pale pink gown hanging next to her.
“Here you go,” she said. “Try this on. Stacey’s getting into hers right now.”
I stepped into a cubicle and stripped off my sweaty clothes. My heart was still pounding, and I couldn’t get Steve’s cruel voice—or Nicole’s desperation—out of my head.
I wished…I wished I’d been generous with J.D. Understanding. Not so fucking fragile and quick to take offense. He had his reasons for hiding his identity, and none of them were about hurting me. After all, as Stacey said, he came to Foresthill to save me.
My phone buzzed, and I dug it out of my bag. It was a text message from Steve: Did I miss you?
Suddenly everything was clear, even as it was all falling apart. I knew what I had to do. I took the MolyMo check out of my bag. “Fuck!” I ripped it to shreds before I could think twice.
“You okay in there?” Lisa said.
“Yeah, fine,” I said. “It’s nothing.”
I took a picture of the shredded check with my phone. It was the right thing to do, but that didn’t stop me from crying inside as I attached the picture to my answer: Returning scanner to rightful owner. Won’t be depositing check.
“Oh, Stacey,” Lisa said on the other side of the curtain. “You’re gorgeous. You’re going to show me up at my own wedding.”
I felt wobbly. In the last hour, I’d given away $56,000 and lost the chance to pay off another $150,000 in debts. And I wasn’t finished. I knew what I had to do. I had to sell the house.
“Best bridesmaid dresses ever.” I put on a smile and opened the curtain. “Can someone zip me up?”
“Aunt Nora, you’re beautiful,” Stacey said.
“Your expression is priceless,” I said. “I actually believe you.”
“J.D.’s going to fall in love with you all over again,” Lisa said.
But J.D. was gone. And I was the one who sent him away. I was alone.
Chapter 23
Orcas Island. Third Friday in July
One day on the island was pretty much like any other. I’d retreated into a timeless world, like summer vacations when I was a kid. The only marker of time’s passing was the Fourth of July fireworks in Eastsound put on by the Orcas Island Chamber of Commerce. That was a week ago. Or maybe two.
Off shore an occasional speed boat buzzed through the sound of seagulls and surf. Scarlett had gone down to feed the dogs, and Mom was working in her garden. I was set up on the lanai with a guitar in my lap and a pad of paper on the table in front of me.
I spent most days out here, pretending to keep busy. Surfing the internet. Writing a song. My thoughts of Nora had diminished to every hour instead of every minute. Most of the time it was nothing specific.
I didn’t picture her dark eyes, beautiful and sad with the occasional flicker of humor that made me want to throw her down and climb all over her and taste every inch of her skin.
I didn’t play her sobbing screams at the cabin in my head repeatedly and want to kill the tattooed murderer with my own bare hands.
I didn’t fantasize swooping into Nora’s life like Sir Lancelot to carry her away to a happily ever after—only to have her cut me down with a slicing look of betrayal and disgust. Get out! I heard those words every night as I tried to fall asleep and every morning as I began another day.
Mostly I didn’t think of these things. Mostly I watched the ocean and the birds and walked in the garden and listened to Mom’s bad jokes and Scarlett’s rants about how the US had become a totalitarian police state. And underneath it all, my life took on a constant low-grade sense of emptiness, an emptiness I’d never be able to fill. The place created by the gods for Nora.
Nora, who hated me.
Scarlett dropped a bag of dog food on the lanai’s tile floor and went inside. A few minutes later she was back with two glasses of iced coffee. She handed me one and sat down at the table.
“How is your song coming along?” She nodded at Mom’s guitar, an old Taylor 810 that had a mellowed, gorgeous sound.
“I’m just fooling around.” I set the guitar down in its stand and closed my journal. I’d finished a couple of verses, but the song wasn’t close to ready to show anyone. I took a sip of the iced coffee and leaned back in my chair. “This is great. I should come up every summer. Fly out of Granite Bay the first day of hundred-degree heat and stay until it cools down in October.”
Scarlett raised a disapproving eyebrow. “What about BlueMagick?”
“Brad Skypes me if he needs needed anything.” I gestured at my laptop, open on the table. Brad and I talked on the computer every day. Legal had set up a public policy division to work on rights legislation. The first five demo vehicles were street licensed. BlueMagick didn’t need me there in the flesh. Everything was fine.
“Hey, you two.” Mom emerged from the maze with a basket of cut flowers on her arm. As usual, she wore a long colorful dress with her hair pulled back by a scarf. She was like a beautiful hippie earth mother, though she rolled her eyes whenever I said so. She joined us on the lanai and dumped the flowers out on her gardener’s bench.
I watched her sort the roses. “I just found out the red ones are American Beauties,” I said. “Not the pink and yellow ones.”
She smiled at me indulgently like only a mother can and said, “How is your song coming along?”
I looked at Scarlett. “What is this, a conspiracy?”
“I told Lori we’d be gone through August,” Scarlett said. Lori was Mom and Scarlett’s housekeepe
r. I’d forgotten they were leaving for England in a couple days.
As they talked about their vacation plans and Mom sorted flowers by color, the voices on the lanai faded to background noise. I stripped the roses and filled the basket with petals to take to Nora. She was in her room asleep, with her dark hair spread over the pillow. Her cute green piranha pajamas lay on the floor beside the bed, and when I pulled back the blanket she was naked.
I covered her with the rose petals, strewing them over her soft skin, along her thighs, in the dark space between her legs, over her belly and breasts, her shoulders and her forehead. I left her sweet lips exposed and bent down to kiss them....
Scarlett touched my hand. “That’s if you’re not here, J.D.”
“Huh?” My fantasy evaporated. I was once again on the island with Scarlett and Mom both staring at me. I’d missed something. “What?”
“Lori will come every day while we’re in London,” Mom said. “To feed the dogs and water the houseplants—unless you’re still here.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“We’re out of coffee.” Scarlett finished her iced coffee and set the empty glass down. “I didn’t buy any beans at the store last time, since we’re going to be gone a month. I miscalculated.”
Miscalculated, meaning she hadn’t taken into account how much I’d consume.
“I can fix that.” I stood up and flexed my arms in a superhero pose just as a Skype call came in. “After I finish this call with Brad. I’ll take the boat over to the marina and pick up a few things.”
“I’d kill for a root beer float,” Mom said.
“You got it.” I took the laptop upstairs to my room.
“Bad news,” Brad said. “Nicole’s going to sue for sexual harassment.”
“So get out the checkbook.”
“She won’t take a settlement. She wants her day in court. She says she wants the world to know what an asshole you are.”
“What do I care?”
“It matters now, J.D.” Brad said. “If we want to influence legislation, we have to care about BlueMagick’s reputation. You’re BlueMagick.”
“No, Brad. You’re the face of BlueMagick, thank god. But still.”
I didn’t care what the world thought of me. But I did care what Nora would think. “Did you tell Nicole we’d press charges for corporate espionage?”
“She said we can’t prove anything about the Proto 1. I asked her what her pal Nora would say about that. She got all agitated, but she didn’t back down.”
“You mentioned Nora’s name?”
“Nicole pretty much lost it. She asked who the fuck is Nora, like she’d heard the name but had no idea who she was,” Brad said. “The thing is, J.D., I believed her.”
“She doesn’t know Nora. Crap. I wanted to keep it that way.”
“She knows now, dude,” Brad said. “I went out to the girls’ place yesterday. When I turned into the driveway, the car behind me slowed to a stop and I saw the driver in my rearview mirror. Flame-red curly hair and huge sunglasses. Nicole was following me.”
“Dammit.”
“She drove on when I got out of the SUV,” Brad said.
“What were you doing there?” I said. I felt frustrated and pouty. I wanted to be at Nora’s yesterday.
“Installing solar lights in the yard for the wedding,” Brad said.
“If BlueMagick ever goes under, you’ll have a second career,” I joked.
There was an awkward silence, and a shadow flickered over Brad’s eyes. Oblique as it was, my joke referenced that day in my mom’s garden when Brad installed her lights and Holly had laid out her nefarious plan.
“How is Frank handling you being at the house?” I said.
“Frank’s got BlueMagick-itis,” Brad said. The moment passed. We were back in the present. Old girlfriends forgotten.
“You’re kidding.”
“He acts like we’re BFFs. He asked me to be a groomsman.”
“What the hell?”
“It’s a crappy job, but somebody’s got to do it.”
“Wait a minute, dude,” I said. “You said yes? You don’t owe that guy zip. He’s marrying your angel.”
“I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for her.”
“That’s taking the Mr. Nice Guy routine too far. You schmuck.”
“Yeah, well,” Brad said.
That about summed it up. “How’s Nora?” I said.
“He finally gets to the point.”
“Come on,” I said. “How is she? Did she take the money yet?”
Brad told me Nora had given him the scanner after all. He’d repeated my offer to pay whatever MolyMo promised her.
“She’s adamant. Won’t do it,” Brad said. “She’s putting the house up for sale. The listing goes live the day after the wedding.”
“The day after tomorrow then.”
“Things have a way of working themselves out.”
“A sucky way.” I felt sick to my stomach.
We logged off and I went down to the marina for supplies. Taking the boat was faster than driving Mom’s funky old BMW. It was good to get out on the water and feel the salt wind on my face. I felt like shit. Everything was spinning away from me, out of my control.
I picked up the coffee beans—Sumatra Mandheling, Scarlett’s favorite—and a few other supplies. There was a woman with kids at the soda fountain. I almost blew off the root beer floats, but I didn’t want to give Scarlett any more reason to rag on me.
She didn’t put it into words, but her tone said all. She thought I was turning into a slacker. Just because I slept past noon and always wore the same shirt with the sleeves ripped out and played computer solitaire all day every day.
The woman ahead of me ordered four hot dogs, two with the works, one ketchup only, one plain. She and her little kids all wore white sailor hats. Tourists. The boy looked six or seven. He was fascinated by whatever was in the pail he carried. The little girl was four or five with big brown eyes. She stared up at me from under her mom’s arm. I felt like a giant.
I winked at her, and her eyes got bigger. I winked again. She blinked and a smile spread slowly over her face. What a little cutie.
“Mama.” The boy held up his pail. “The worms want to go catch the fish now.”
“As soon as we eat, sweetie,” the woman said. Her voice was familiar. “We should have waited to buy the worms.”
“Holly?” I said, and she turned around.
“J.D., wow!”
It was Holly. Mercenary Holly. Horrible Holly. But this was a nice mom with a great smile wearing a silly sailor hat and with two nice kids.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “Well, I guess I can. Orcas Island. Are you visiting your mom?” She struggled with all the stuff she was carrying.
“Can I help you?” I said.
“I just need to get my wallet out of my purse.”
“Let me get this.” I gave the cashier my credit card before she could refuse, and the guy at the counter handed over a bag of food.
“I have worms.” The boy showed me his pail.
“Yep. Those are worms,” I said. Lame. I knew nothing about fishing. I picked up the bag of hot dogs and walked outside with Holly and her kids. Holly and her kids. Words I never thought would enter my brain. “So you’re married?”
“To an architect,” she said. “We moved to the island six months ago. I just opened a new art gallery at West Beach on Enchanted Island Road.”
“That’s wonderful.” She was so normal.
“It would be really wonderful if Sheila let me do a show for her.” Holly blushed. I didn’t remember her being shy. “I’ve always loved your mom’s stuff, you know. She hasn’t answered my letter.”
“She’s been busy,” I said. I was caught in a Bizarro World where Holly was amazing and nice. She was calm, friendly—she reminded me of Lisa. An intrinsically happy person. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“That would be great
, J.D.,” she said. “Thanks.”
“You look fantastic, Holly.” She did, too. “Really happy.”
“I am happy,” she said. “And you look…well, you haven’t changed.”
She was right. I looked the same. I was the same. She summed it up perfectly: I hadn’t changed.
Holly, my nemesis, had changed. She’d moved on with her life and flourished. What was I thinking? That she’d pine away with regret over the mistake she’d made with me?
God. What a self-centered idiot.
I called Jennings as soon as I made it back to the house—with the root beer floats—and told him to get the plane ready. I had to get back to California. I had this crazy idea in my head. If I didn’t dance with Nora at the wedding, I’d lose her forever.
Chapter 24
Nora’s house. Third Saturday in July, 5:20 p.m.
The front doorbell rang. Again. Lisa’s wedding was in forty minutes. People had started to arrive, and I was still in a tank top and shorts.
But my head looked good.
In keeping with Lisa’s garden theme, Stacey and I had glittery little flowers and butterflies painted on our faces and shoulders. It looked pretty cool. The hairdresser decorated our hair with origami butterflies and honeybees and piled mine on top of my head in stylized lacquered curls fixed with two silver hair picks.
Stacey had been dressed for over an hour. She was a dangerous mix of cute and sophisticated in her pale pink bridesmaid dress, and she intended to get maximum use out of it. She’d enlisted some of the bus crew from the restaurant to help set up. At the moment she was in the backyard giving directions to a darkly handsome young guy. The famous Mason Brewer.
“Nora, dear. There you are.” Lisa’s mom came in from answering the door carrying a huge present which she added to the pile on the table. “I told them to go around to the back instead of traipsing through your house.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Newberry. Here, have some of the good stuff.” I poured her a glass of Duckhorn sauvignon blanc and put the bottle back in the refrigerator in the meat drawer.
The front door bell rang again.
“That does it,” I said. “I’m making a sign.”
