Taurus Eyes

by Bonnie Hearn Hill

  “It’s a little late for apologies,” I said.

  She shook her head. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I’m leaving, but, yes, I am sorry, Logan.”

  “What about Vanessa?”

  “She’s leaving too. So you win again. Just the way my sisters always do.”

  “If you’d change your approach, maybe you might change the outcome.”

  “Right.” She shook her head as if totally disgusted with me. “If you had sibs like mine, maybe you wouldn’t be so smug.”

  “And if you had no sibs, maybe you wouldn’t have been so ready to hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you. I never did. Actually . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I did show Vanessa your book, but I had no idea she’d hooked up with that actor and gotten him to pretend to be Baylor. I’m sorry, okay?” Then she shrugged and walked away.

  So now, I had only two tasks remaining in this workshop. Finish my article, which would not win. And be the altruistic Aquarius that I was, and go see Cookie Burke.

  Vanessa and Candice were not in class. Henry Jaffa didn’t mention why, but everyone seemed to know. Jeremy and I sat together. He shot me sad looks throughout the lecture. I did my best. But what could I say about Sean Baylor compared to what he would? I had the singer’s astro vibe nailed. But Jeremy was his son. He had told Jaffa that at the beginning of class. Although Jaffa had allowed him to write his own Baylor piece, he had not believed Jeremy. Soon he would. Once he knew the truth.

  That night, Dirk and Tati were working together in our room on the last parts of their articles. Jeremy borrowed Dirk’s car, and I directed him to the club where Cookie played.

  “Why are we going here?” Jeremy squeezed my hand. “All I want is to be alone with you.”

  “You trust me, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Finally. Yes, I do.”

  “Then trust me enough to wait out here until I find out what I need to.”

  “If you’re not out in ten minutes, you know I’ll be all over the place.”

  “Ten minutes?” I looked back into those eyes and wanted to cry. “Sure. I can probably do that.”

  Bernie, the cocktail server, had a cell phone pressed to her ear. Her hair was pulled up in back, and I could see the beginnings of perpendicular lines intersecting her lips.

  She saw me and spoke into her phone. “I’ll call you when I get off. I have a customer.”

  “I’m here to see Cookie,” I told her.

  “Only if it’s okay with him.”

  “It is.”

  Cookie was sitting in the same booth, with what looked like the same drink. Only his shirt had changed. Today it was a deep ruby color that matched the stone of his ring. I sat down without waiting for an invitation. He glanced up at me with eyes entrenched in sorrow.

  “Hey, kid. I got nothing else to say.”

  “I do.” I said. “I found out what happened with Mercedes and Sean Baylor.”

  “You get around.” He smiled with his lips. His eyes revealed nothing. “I guess the whole haunting thing at the restaurant was some kind of fake. I caught something about it on the news.”

  “Part of it,” I said. “As you know, Sean Baylor couldn’t be haunting the restaurant or anywhere else in Monterey, because he isn’t dead.”

  “That’s it.” He slammed his hand on the table. “Bernie, get this kid out of here.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “I know Baylor’s alive, and I know you’re the only one he can trust. If you let that woman throw me out of here, you won’t stop me. I will find him, sooner or later, if I have to go all the way to Ireland.”

  His sad expression changed to one of fear.

  “Okay, honey.” The woman approached our table, all business in her sequined tuxedo shirt. “I need to see your ID, or you have to go.”

  “I’ll leave in a moment,” I said. “I need to talk to Cookie about a mutual friend.”

  “Cookie?” She caught his eye.

  “Give me a minute,” he said.

  “Make up your mind, will you?” She stalked off, clearly disgusted.

  “What do you want?” Cookie asked. “Are you doing some kind of crazy blackmail scheme? Because if you are . . .”

  “All I want is for you to come with me to the parking lot. Sean Baylor’s son is out there.”

  “Now you’ve pushed me too far.” But he didn’t move.

  “Baylor had a son,” I said. “His name is Jeremy, and he looks just like his father. He has a photo of his mother and Baylor.”

  “Sean B. would never desert his own kid,” he said flatly.

  “He doesn’t know about him.” I got up from the table. “Finding his father is the most important thing in Jeremy’s life. Please, come with me.”

  We walked together to the car. In spite of the cold, Jeremy stood outside, chin lifted, with arms crossed in front of his jacket, tangled hair blowing across his face. Thinking what? I wondered. How could I hope to be in that equation?

  Beside me, Cookie stopped.

  Jeremy nodded to me, then looked at him, and without musical accompaniment, began to sing.

  Was all we had to say to each other . . .

  Cookie’s eyes grew wide. “You look just like him,” he said.

  “I should. He’s my father. I’ll take any test he wants.”

  Cookie shook his head slowly. “He didn’t know. He doesn’t know. I swear.”

  “Where is he? Will you take me to him?”

  “Far away from here, but he’ll want to see you. I can tell you that.” Cookie’s entire personality changed. His raw voice became intimate and friendly. “You’ve got to be about the same age as my youngest boy. How come you’re only now coming forward?”

  “Because I knew that he must have disappeared for a reason,” Jeremy said. “If it hadn’t been for Logan . . .” They both turned to look at me.

  “You were the key,” I told Cookie. “You take it from here.”

  I no longer belonged with them. They needed to talk alone, and it was still early enough for me to be able to find a cab.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” Jeremy pulled me to him. “Let’s go inside and figure out what to do.”

  We went back into the club. Cookie got on the telephone. Jeremy and I held hands and waited.

  “Sean B.?” Cookie lowered his voice. “Man, you aren’t going to believe what I have to tell you.”

  Jeremy took Cookie’s phone and walked to the other side of the club.

  “I know Sean, and he’s going to want some changes,” Cookie told me. “Everything Ren Baylor has, it should be the boy’s.”

  “Do you think she suspected that Sean was alive?” I asked.

  “No telling.” He looked down at his hands, the deep ruby stone on his finger. “She sure had to be keeping tabs on me, though, to know right away that you’d come in that night.”

  “I know,” I said. “Remember how dead it was in here? There wasn’t anyone around except . . .”

  I realized that the blond server was standing beside the booth, stone-faced. The sequins on her black tuxedo shirt glittered in the dim lights. Her eyes looked dead.

  “You’re the one who told Ren Baylor,” I said.

  Cookie looked at her carefully as if trying to read her expression, except there was nothing to read. She was a blank slate. “Don’t just stand there, Bernie. Tell the kid she’s nuts.”

  “You know I think the world of you.” She shrugged in that weary way of hers. “What can I say? I needed the money.”

  “Ren Baylor paid you to keep tabs on me? You agreed to that?”

  “Just since all of this ghost stuff started. You understand, don’t you, Cookie? It wasn’t personal. You’d do the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot.”

  “No I wouldn’t. I didn’t, not in all these years.”

  He got up from the table, and she stepped back as if afraid he would strike her. “When you check in with that no-good woman, be sure to tell her that Sean B. is alive,�
�� he said. “Tell her he spoke to his son tonight.”

  NOTES TO SELF

  Later, Jeremy and I ended up on the wharf, holding hands, kissing, and finally, getting something to eat from one of the seafood stands.

  “I’ll never smell fish and chips without thinking about you and this night,” he told me.

  I wonder if he is right. Years from now, will I smell the ocean and the scent of frying food and remember him?

  This has easily been the most wonderful night of my life—and the saddest. Because I know that Jeremy cares about me, and because I also know what he must do next.

  30

  TAURUS CAN BE ABRUPT, EVEN CRUEL. BUT THAT IS

  NOT THE WAY THE BULL SEES IT. THE BULL SEES IT AS

  THE TRUTH ACCORDING TO TAURUS. IF YOU FALL IN

  LOVE WITH A BULL, YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THAT

  TAURUS ANGER DOES NOT CANCEL TAURUS TRUTH—

  NOR DOES IT CANCEL TAURUS LOVE.

  —Fearless Astrology

  I know that now. I have seen Jeremy abrupt, and I have seen him angry. But I have also seen the goodness in him, his capacity for deep feelings. His face last night, when he first spoke to his father on Cookie’s phone, is something I will never forget. It made me know that I did the right thing by insisting that we go to the club.

  Cookie admitted that Sean faked his disappearance to escape the life his controlling sister had mapped out for him. He never wanted to be a star, and he hated the kind of person he was becoming. He is at peace in Ireland, and now that he knows about Sean, he no longer wants to hide. I wonder what Ren Baylor will do when Bernie gives her the good news. I wonder if Sean and Mercedes will get back together, or if Sean and Jeremy will just stay in Ireland and forget about those of us in their pasts.

  Even though Jeremy promises to return, I know that the summer and the boy I care for will soon be gone. I get up early and dress in the darkness to keep from waking Tati. Paige loaned me her Pucci top because, she said, the wild swirls of blue and green set off my eyes.

  Before I meet him this morning, I take a walk on the beach, over the ice plant, all of those choked roots that refuse to let go. Down to the water, where Jeremy and I first tried to outsmart each other but accidentally fell for each other instead. Maybe that’s wrong. Perhaps I fell for him the moment he grabbed my hand when Vanessa shoved me into his lap on the ghost trolley that night.

  On the way back, I run into Jaffa. He’s wearing a pair of baggy beige shorts and a jacket.

  “Getting used to our weather, are you?” I ask.

  “I’d better be. I’m going to live here at least another six months. Sean Baylor’s ghost was faked, but there are plenty of other spirits for me to research.” The wind whips his bushy Aquarius hair, and he pushes it back from his eyes with one hand. “What about you?”

  “I’m going to keep writing.”

  “You ought to. Let me know if I can help. Even if your article isn’t selected, there are other opportunities for talented student writers. You have my e-mail address. Let’s keep in touch.”

  I think he means it.

  “I will,” I say.

  Jeremy meets me outside the dorm, and we get into Dirk’s car. Soon, he will be gone, and I will drive back alone. These are our last moments together for I don’t know how long, and I have no idea what to say. We pass wind-beaten Monterey cypress trees, their branches frozen like giant bonsai, and I remember 17-Mile Drive, that lone tree that derives its nourishment from the moisture of the rocks.

  “What are you thinking?” His voice is rough.

  “About your father’s song.” Sean Baylor had known something about parting. I wondered if he had written it before or after he had decided to disappear.

  “What about the song?”

  “I guess I’m trying to figure out how to say goodbye.”

  “Me, too.” He pulls off on Highway 68 toward Salinas. “The airport isn’t far.”

  “Darn.”

  He reaches for my hand. “I know.”

  I wonder if, in his mind, he is already leaving me behind, imagining what life will be like with his father in Dublin. That’s my emotional Pisces Moon, feeling sorry for myself. I mentally tell it to butt out. A tearful parting scene isn’t going to endear me to him.

  The airport is smaller than I expected. We park on the first level and go upstairs to the Golden Tee restaurant. He orders a burger and fries.

  “For breakfast?” I ask.

  “This isn’t just any day. What about you?”

  “Coffee and toast.”

  “That’s not very much,” he says.

  “This isn’t just any day.”

  He leans over, whispers in my ear. “Your shirt is wrong-side-out.”

  “Oh no.” I’m horrified. I was so exhausted when I woke up this morning that I didn’t even notice the now-blatant black seams.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He slides next to me in the booth. “I love the way you look. Logan, I love you.”

  My cheeks burn. I squeeze his fingers and am filled with more joy than I’ve ever felt, and more misery.

  “What are we going to do?” I whisper.

  “Just care about each other. And believe we can make it work.” He gives me what I’m sure he thinks is a cheerful smile. “What do those on the astro plane say about love?”

  “So, you’re into astrology now, are you?”

  “Let’s just say I’m open to anything.”

  “Okay then. What we have here are Earth . . .” I point at him. “. . . And Air.” I point at myself. “And we are going to be fine.”

  “Is that what you read?”

  “Kind of.” I blink to keep the tears away. “Close enough.”

  “We will be.” He puts his arm around me, and we kiss in the booth, in front of a restaurant full of people.

  Breakfast is over too soon, and it is time for him to board.

  We walk outside and hold hands as long as we can.

  “Stay here,” he says, when it’s time for him to go on and for me to go back. “Watch my plane until it’s gone. I’ll be looking down at you until you’re only a speck.”

  “I will.” I wrap my arms around his neck and lift my lips to his ear, which is now as cold as the wind. “I love you, too.”

  That’s the truth. It should make up for the fact that I fibbed a little earlier; it wasn’t I didn’t remember. I could have recited, by heart, every word of our horoscopes for today. “Heartbreak will be followed by redemption and a reawakening of spirit.”

  Maybe so. But right now, I’m also thinking about what Mercedes said. “Sometimes trying is good enough.” And I’m thinking about that Lone Cypress that digs in and survives.

  “Wait for me then,” he says.

  “I will, I promise.”

  One more kiss. Then he hurries to catch up with the other passengers, takes a final look back down at me, and steps inside the plane. I stare at it and imagine him watching me from one of the tiny windows. I wave furiously to keep my mind from focusing on what is really happening.

  The plane takes off, down the narrow runway, then up, up, growing smaller. It glints in the light, only a silver streak. I shade my eyes, blinded by the sun, but I can’t turn away now. I keep watching and blinking until it disappears into the sky.

  On the way home, I know what I must do next. The decision is simply made without any of my characteristic mulling. Still wearing the wrong-side-out shirt, I drive to the newspaper office.

  The front security guard is still reading her magazine. “Sign in over there,” she says.

  I think about what Rik McNeil said in that fiery Aries way of his. “Perhaps we’re selected for a reason.”

  Nobody is around this early. I walk to the place where the elevator used to be and press my cheek against the cold wall.

  “It’s okay, Richard,” I say, although I might as well be speaking to Jeremy. “It is okay to leave. You’re free.” Tears fill my eyes.

  The wall turns warm for a mo
ment. I hear something that sounds like a sigh. Perhaps it is my imagination, perhaps not. It doesn’t matter. In my mind, the wall disappears. The red enamel elevator doors part. Richard steps out in his uniform, smiles at me, nods and then walks smartly down the hall toward the back guard station. I follow him and watch the door swing open. A cold breeze cuts through me.

  An old guy watching several surveillance cameras gets up and closes the door. “Damn wind,” he says. Then noticing me, he stops. “You need some help, Miss?” he asks. “Need to find someone?”

  “I found what I needed,” I say. “I’m leaving now.”

  As I begin to retrace my steps, the guard in front doesn’t bother looking up. And that’s okay as well.

  I’m ready to go back now.

  WHAT’S YOUR SUN SIGN?

  JUST AS THE MOON ILLUMINATES THE DARKNESS OF

  THE SKY, THE MOON IN YOUR CHART SHEDS LIGHT ON

  YOUR DEEPEST PERSONAL NEEDS THAT MAY BE INVISI-

  BLE EVEN TO YOU. WHILE THE SUN IS MASCULINE, THE

  MOON IS FEMININE. SHE RULES YOUR INTUITION AND

  EMOTIONS. THINK OF YOUR MOON AS BLENDING OR

  MODIFYING YOUR SUN SIGN’S POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE

  CHARACTERISTICS.

  —Fearless Astrology

  Aries: March 21-22 to April 19-20

  Loves activity, Hates commitment, Can be unpredictable, Daring, Impulsive, Temperamental

  Taurus: April 20-21 to May 20-21

  Loves stability, Hates being hurried, Can be sweet-tempered, Shy, Willful, Inflexible

  Gemini: May 21-22 to June 21-22

  Loves information, Hates sitting still, Can be persuasive, Flirty, Superficial, Frivolous

  Cancer: June 22-23 to July 22-23

  Loves nurturing, Hates change, Can be sensitive, Caring, Moody, Whiny

  Leo: July 23-24 to Aug 23-24

  Loves attention, Hates being dominated, Can be playful, Lively, Arrogant, Flamboyant

  Virgo: Aug 23-24 to Sept 23-24