California Dreaming

by Shawn Lane

  When I heard the sound of the shower starting, I flipped over to my back and stared at the ceiling. I was sore all over, though pleasantly so. But my heart was hammering like it might burst right through my chest.

  Having Zach fuck me had done absolutely nothing to rid me of these impossible feelings for him. Hell, I was pretty sure they had just been made worse.

  Way worse.

  Chapter 5

  I had never been to a funeral home, fortunately, until I accompanied my sister to one about three miles from her house.

  When Zach had come out of the bathroom after his shower the night before, I pretended to be asleep, because I hadn’t wanted to have that conversation. I was pretty sure Zach was relieved. That morning when I rose to go with my sister, Zach had still been asleep. Or perhaps pretending himself.

  Neither Raine nor I had been hungry when we left the house, so we had decided we would stop for breakfast after arranging Joe’s services. The funeral home had assured Raine they would make Joe look good, in spite of his accident and being dead, if she wanted an open casket.

  Raine looked at me. “What do you think?”

  “It’s up to you,” I said diplomatically.

  Mr. Baker, the funeral director meeting with us, spoke up. “Many find comfort in the last look of a loved one.”

  Raine’s bottom lip trembled. “I-I don’t know.”

  “Give us a minute, please?”

  Mr. Baker nodded and stepped aside so that we could still see him but he was out of earshot.

  I rested my hands on her shoulders. “Raine, honey, if you aren’t comfortable with it, then don’t do it.”

  “Would you? I mean, if you were me, would you do it?”

  “Honestly? No. I find the idea pretty ghoulish. But it’s not up to me, and you may feel entirely differently.”

  She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s stupid, you know? But Joe used to make these kinds of decisions.”

  “I know.” My hands slid down her arms, and she gripped my hands in hers before I could pull them away.

  “No open casket.” She straightened. “I don’t want to give my girls nightmares of the last time they saw their daddy. They should remember him alive.”

  “I agree.”

  Raine hugged me. “I love having you here.”

  I squeezed her. “I’m glad I’m here for you. Mr. Baker’s waiting.”

  She pulled back with a nod. “I’m ready.”

  * * * *

  “Besides the coffee, I’ll have a glass of tomato juice, please. And two eggs, scrambled, bacon, hash browns, and the biscuits and gravy.” I handed the waitress the menu.

  Raine’s little smile in my direction was indulgent. “Just an English muffin, light on the butter. Thank you.”

  “That’s it?” I asked incredulously as the waitress left our table.

  “I have high cholesterol,” Raine replied. “Or so my last blood tests said. Have to be careful now. I’m Autumn and Summer’s only parent.”

  “True.” I picked up my coffee cup. “I probably shouldn’t eat like that either.”

  “Nah. You look great. I mean, really. You seem happy, Mickey.”

  I shrugged. “I like Florida. And the law firm where I work. I have a nice place.”

  “So it’s Florida and where you work?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “What about Zach? He’s really cute, by the way.”

  “Yeah, he is. And he knows it.”

  Raine frowned slightly and took a sip from her own coffee. “What do you mean?”

  “Zach isn’t really relationship material, Raine. He’s a friend. A really good one. I completely love him.”

  “But?”

  I shrugged. “He likes sex a lot.”

  For a moment she just stared at me, and then she slowly nodded. “Not just with you.”

  “Rarely with me, actually.”

  “I’m sorry. I’d hoped you’d found someone who was the one.”

  I toyed with my fork and knife, like maybe they had all the answers. “I’m not sure there is the one out there for me.” When I looked back at her, Raine looked pensive. “What?”

  “Can I tell you something, Mickey?”

  “Sure, anything.”

  Raine looked down at the table in front of her and her skin was flushed red. “Everything wasn’t perfect in our marriage.”

  “No relationship is perfect, Raine.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But it was more than just, you know, fighting.”

  “Did he cheat on you?”

  She winced then, and her gaze rose to me. “No. Actually, it was me.”

  That did surprise me. So much so that I just stared at her, waiting for her to go on.

  Her hands wrapped around her coffee cup, like maybe it was a lifeline. “I never meant it to happen. And God knows I know everyone says that.” She sighed heavily. “He was our next-door neighbor. Recently divorced. Kids around the same age as my girls. Joe worked long hours. And I know that’s no excuse.”

  I smiled a little. “I’m not looking to judge you.”

  “It was almost a cliché, really. It went on for about six months.”

  “How long ago? Was it recent?”

  Before Raine could answer, the waitress arrived with our breakfast. She piled plates in front of me and then just set the single small plate with the English muffin in front of Raine. She refilled our coffee, too, and after checking with us to see if we needed anything else, she left us alone once more.

  Instead of answering my question, Raine looked out the dingy window of the diner. “Do you think I’m a terrible person?”

  “I told you before I wasn’t looking to judge you.”

  She turned to look at me. “My past actions made you leave home and never come back.”

  “That was a flaw in me, not in you.”

  Raine gave a short laugh. “Mickey, you look like you almost believe that. I know you think I stole Joe from you.”

  “I did at one time,” I admitted as I picked up my fork to start eating my breakfast before it got cold. “But I grew up and figured out no one can steal another person from you. Joe made his own decisions, and he chose to be with you because he loved you. And you loved him. Neither of you did it to hurt me.”

  She bit her lip. “That’s true. I wouldn’t have hurt you for all the world. Which is why I hoped you were happy now.”

  “I am. I have a good life. And having the man of your dreams isn’t always the way life works out.”

  “It’s not what it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Was the affair recent?” I asked again. I picked up a slice of bacon and took a bite.

  “Yes.” Raine toyed with her English muffin. “Ended just about three months ago. Joe found out. He wanted a divorce.”

  I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

  “I talked him out of it. But, God, it was hard. I think he hated me a little. I hated myself.”

  I watched her for a moment. The unshed tears, the quivering of her bottom lip, the dark circles under her eyes. “You still do, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I hurt him, Mickey. I hurt him badly. And in the end? None of it mattered. He’s gone anyway.”

  “Honey, no one could have predicted what would happen. And if Joe was still with you, it was because he wanted to be. I know enough about him, still, to know that.”

  Raine sighed. “I did love him.”

  “I know.” I squeezed her hand again. “It’s going to be okay. You and the girls will get through this.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I really missed you.” She paused, then leaned forward. “And-and after the funeral? I really want to talk about you moving back here permanently.”

  Chapter 6

  I was surprised to find when we returned to Raine’s house that Zach had gone somewhere in the rental car. He’d left a note in the room we were sharing claiming he had friends in California he’d decided to visit. It was
the first mention he’d made about these alleged friends, so the lawyer in me was suspicious.

  Of what exactly? Who knew? Maybe he was looking for someone else to screw while he was here. He’d certainly shown interest in the flight attendant, so it was hardly that he was so hung up on good ole me that he’d stop himself.

  That he would choose to do so while I was here for a funeral for a family member bothered me more than maybe it should have. Or maybe it was the “very next day after fucking me” thing. Whatever. I had absolutely no hold or control over Zach.

  Raine had gone up to take a nap after her ordeal at the funeral home, and I learned from my mother that my dad had taken the girls to the park as a way to distract them from everything. My mom was out in the backyard, sitting on a porch swing, and I stood at the sliding-glass door for about five minutes, deciding whether I should join her for some awkward family bonding.

  Finally I decided to stop avoiding conversations with my own family. I slid the door open and stepped outside. It was a beautiful sunny day, pretty typical of Southern California. And somehow that made the reason I was even there that much more poignant.

  “Come sit with me,” she said, as though she’d known eventually I would come outside.

  I went over to the swing and glanced down at her. She was wearing one of those maxi dresses, this one with somber shades of browns and blacks. She patted the seat next to her.

  “How long have you been out here?” I asked, easing down onto the swing.

  “Half an hour or so. Came out after your father took the girls to that park down at the end of the block.”

  I tried to remember if Dad had ever taken Raine and me to a park, and when I couldn’t, I decided to ask. “Did we ever go to the park with Dad?”

  “Oh sure. Plenty of times.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  Mom snorted at that. “I’m sure you don’t remember every detail of your childhood. No one does.”

  “I know. Still. I would have thought I’d remember at least one time.”

  “To be fair, you were pretty young. Younger than these girls.” She shrugged. “When you got older, he was busier. Work and stuff.”

  I leaned my head against the back of the swing. “I remember his poker games. Every Wednesday.”

  “They were obnoxious,” Mom said. “And he always lost. But I guess they made him happy.”

  “Does he still do them?”

  “No. He gave them up about five or six years ago. Couple of his friends passed. You know how it is.”

  I sort of did and sort of didn’t. “Like who?”

  Mom glanced at me, like she was trying to decide why I would even ask. She probably was. “Albert Weismann. Old man Cantor. Remember him?”

  “Was he the one who was always scratching his armpits?”

  She snickered. “Yes. That was him.” The smile on her face disappeared like it was an illusion. “No offense, Michael, but why are you suddenly interested in old family history? You’ve been away a long time.”

  “I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “I guess maybe Joe’s death has me thinking.”

  “You really hated us for that. Joe choosing Raine.” Her voice was so soft it might have drifted away on a breeze.

  “No.”

  “Yes, you did. You don’t walk away from your family for ten years without a word and everything’s A-OK.”

  “It wasn’t without a word.”

  “No? Oh, right. You sort of kept in touch with Raine. At her insistence more than anything. But with Dad and me? Nope.”

  I opened my mouth to argue and then closed it. Shook my head. “You’re right.”

  “We had nothing to do with Joe’s choice.”

  “I know that. It’s just…”

  She eyed me. “What?”

  I shrugged. But even as I did I knew it was a lame attempt to avoid everything. And really, it was all in the past now. What did it matter, considering what was going on now?

  “You and Dad never seemed to care about my feelings regarding it. When Joe and Raine got together, you were almost gleeful. It felt like you approved of…Whatever.”

  “Approved of?” she prodded.

  “Raine’s relationship with Joe because it was heterosexual and more ‘normal.’”

  “That’s simply not true,” Mom insisted. “Raine is our child, too. And we wanted to support her. She’d never been serious about a boy before. Michael, we’ve always accepted your lifestyle choice.”

  I gritted my teeth. “It’s not a lifestyle and certainly not a choice. That’s it exactly. You didn’t throw me out or disown me, but you’ll never be marching in a pride parade by my side.”

  “You’ve always been my difficult child, Michael. Not because you’re gay or whatever imagined slight you think your father and I perpetuated on you. But because you didn’t talk to us. Ever. You didn’t want us to hug you. Didn’t want us involved in your schoolwork. I never cared who you loved, Michael. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. And you know why that is? Because you’re my son. Even if you don’t want to be.”

  She got up then from the swing and headed into the house, and part of me knew I should follow her and keep talking. But I didn’t. It was all too raw and too real. And so much of what she’d said had been true. Funny thing was, I didn’t know why.

  I closed my eyes and spread out over the swing, letting myself drift off to the swing’s lulling sway.

  I didn’t have any idea how much time had passed when I heard the sliding-glass door open and close. I’d been sort of in a haze for a while. For a moment I thought it was maybe Mom or Raine, even, but then the scent of smoke hit my nostrils.

  “Do you have to smoke around me?” I asked, not bothering to open my eyes.

  “Can’t smoke in the house,” Zach replied.

  “Go out…there.” I waved unseeingly toward the rest of the yard.

  “Fine.”

  The smoke went away as he moved farther into the backyard. I opened my eyes and straightened, watching as he puffed on his cigarette.

  “Thought you were going to give that up.”

  “When did I say that?”

  “Four or five billion times.” I crossed my arms. “Where were you?”

  “Didn’t you get my note?” His profile was turned so that all I could see was the side of his face. He was gorgeous with all that dark hair and his already five o’clock shadow, though I knew he had shaved.

  “Sure I did. But it sounded funny.”

  “Funny?”

  “Not ha-ha. Strange.”

  Zach stubbed out his cigarette and then tossed it in the trash can before coming to the swing and sitting beside me. “How’d it go at the funeral home?”

  Change of subject, then.

  “The arrangements are made. Funeral is day after tomorrow. She went against an open casket.”

  “Those are uncomfortable anyway.” Zach reached over and stroked his thumb across my jaw.

  I watched his expression. “So, we’re still doing that?”

  He smiled. “Doing what?”

  “The whole…sex thing.” I waved my hand. Part of me thought I should keep my mouth shut. Why ruin a good thing? But I felt compelled to push it. Push him.

  “Ah.”

  “Ah what?” I may have said it a little waspishly.

  He shrugged. “Ah, I understand.”

  “I’m glad one of us does.”

  “If you’re asking if I still want to fuck you, the answer is yes.”

  “Can you keep your voice down?” I pointed toward the house.

  Zach rolled his eyes. “They already think we’re fucking, Mick.”

  “Is that it? They think that so we may as well do it?”

  He stared at me a moment before looking out toward the yard. “You’re more prickly than usual. What’s up?”

  I fingered the hem of my shirt, not wanting to look at him. “Where’d you go today?”

  “I told you. To see friends.”
<
br />   “You never mentioned friends in California before.”

  Zach reached into the right pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. “I happened to tell some friends in an e-mail before we left Florida that I was going to be here with you for a few days because I hadn’t seen them for years. I didn’t get a reply until this morning when you left with Raine. I wasn’t even sure I would get a reply because the last time I saw them was in Chicago years ago. They’d left there before you and I went to Florida, and I only sort of remembered they’d moved to California. Since you weren’t here and didn’t need me, I decided to go meet them for lunch.”

  “Zach—”

  “Their names are Margery and Stan Federer. They’ve been married like thirty years. You can check my e-mail on my phone.” He shoved his phone at me.

  I felt like the ass I was. “No.”

  “Yes,” he insisted. “You will look, Mick.”

  Grimacing, I took a look at the e-mails on his phone.

  “Now the texts.”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “I disagree.”

  I glanced through the ones he pointed out and then thrust the phone back at him.

  “Satisfied?”

  “You didn’t need to do that.”

  Zach snorted and shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. “Clearly I did. What did you think, Mick? That I was out fucking someone?”

  Instead of answering, I sighed heavily and ran my hand through my hair. “This is exactly why last night was a mistake.”

  “You’re so dramatic. Everything doesn’t have to be some great grand horrible thing like you make it out to be.”

  “I’m not. It’s just…this is new territory for us. You know I don’t do well with uncertainty.” And he did know. Back in our Chicago days there had been talk of layoffs at the firm we worked at. I’d been a basket case. Zach took everything in stride.

  “Yes, I know.” Zach smiled. It was a real smile. Not one designed for seduction, though it made my pulse race anyway. Zach stood. “I need a shower. And so do you.”

  “A shower?”

  “Uh-huh. Both of us.” He waggled his dark brows.