by Paloma Meir
“Faye,” He opened the car door, “I didn’t stop by to check in. There are people buzzing on my door all the time. A bunch of retards—
“Stop,” She held up her hand and spoke slowly with great care as she did with her daughters when they were little girls, “We don’t use the word “retard”. It’s a slur, derogatory—
“You’re such a mom, or mom-like I guess, never had one myself. I know it’s a slur but these were actual retards. A group from the Special Olympics came to the door. They made you a sign and everything… They wanted sponsorship for their team. I told them you weren’t around but they could tell me about it over breakfast—
“Please don’t tell me you had them buy you breakfast.” She closed her eyes and clutched her steering wheel.
“Sorry Faye, but I had them buy me breakfast. We carb-loaded like you did that day out in the Valley. Those dudes can eat and we played soccer on the beach for the rest of the day. They were pretty good, surprised me.”
“I’ll have the building manager disconnect your door buzzer and please stay away from anyone who may ask for me.”
“It’s not just them—
“I’m sorry… but I have to go. I’m very late for an appointment. Also, please don’t use that word again. Bye.” She reached out for the handle to close the car door.
“It’s not just them Faye, it’s the mail too. Bags of it, well a bag of it…”
“I’m sorry you’re having this problem but I have to go. You can just throw away the mail and by throw away I mean recycle. Please use the recycling bin.”
“Faye—
“I’m sorry… I don’t know what to say.” She softened or maybe melted as she looked into the pool of his green eyes, “But I’m very late. If you want to continue this conversation, you’ll have to come with me.”
He walked around to the other side of the car and got in.
“I didn’t actually mean that. I was trying to call your bluff.” Faye turned the key in the ignition and released the smile she had been holding in.
“That’s a losing game Faye… So, where are we going?”
“Laguna, I have an appointment with a realtor. But more importantly, how did you find me?”
“That check with the address said your last name was Smith, but that lady in the Valley called you Ms. Petrov. So I googled you.”
“And you found my home?” There were a few entries under her married name, mostly for her business but none connecting her to Faye Smith, lottery winner. Serge had done a good job taking care of that.
“Nah… You’re probably not going to like this, but whatever.” He leaned back in his seat and bobbed his head to the quiet stream of music from the radio, “I saw you out on a walk about two weeks ago, so I followed you. You’re like Mother Theresa out there on the beach, feeding all the dregs.”
“You followed me?” She knew she should have been horrified, but she felt strangely flattered, “And please don’t call them dregs. They’re a delicate community with individual needs.”
“Delicate community of meth heads,” he laughed, “Just that one time… maybe a couple of other times but I only followed you home once.”
“Well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t follow me anymore,” Faye took a moment to ponder what her life had become, “So tell me whatever it is you wanted to tell me. Is it really so bad living there?”
“No… not so bad at all. This stripper, Stacy, came by about a week after I moved in. She said she was a college student working the poles to pay her tuition. She wanted you to buy her a set of implants. She stops by every few days now. Good times with Stacy.” He quaked in his laughter. It was contagious and Faye laughed along in spite of herself.
“You can’t take advantage of these people,” She forced a serious tone of voice, “I’m definitely getting your door buzzer removed, and you will stay away from them from now on, okay? Add it to the rules of your free living arrangement.”
“I didn’t take advantage of her. She was on me. Anyway, she’s a liar, she doesn’t go to school. I think she wants to be an actress. Who knows? She never makes any sense.”
“But you continue seeing her?”
“Yeah, she’s hot, very aggressive too. Staaaacy…”
“Hmmmm… okay,” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head, “Let’s listen to some music,” She turned up the volume louder than she usually did.
“Wait,” He patted her hand away and turned the volume down, “Why are we going to Laguna?”
“I told you already, I have an appointment with a realtor. I’m buying a house.”
“Why isn’t your husband with you if you’re buying a house? Why did you rent that apartment? I’m guessing to keep the money grubbers away.”
“You’re right about the apartment, and I am sorry about that. I didn’t actually imagine people showing up that way. I was just being cautious. I should have warned you.”
“No problem…. Beach living, I love it. But you didn’t answer my first question. Are you setting up another life and then dumping him? That’s some cold shit.” He shook his head back and forth.
“No, I would never do that. The winnings are a… difficult responsibility.” She glanced at him and felt her face redden. He was such handsome boyish man, “I’m not going to unburden myself to you. You’re very young.” She reached out to the volume dial again. His hand covered hers, stopping her.
“I’m not that young.”
“How old are you?” Her hand felt like it was on fire under is touch. She didn’t move it away.
“Twenty-four.”
“Yes, very grown up.” She shooed his hand away and successfully turned the music up. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
…
Six hours and five houses later, Faye was tired. The day was hot, and none of the homes spoke to her. The first one the realtor had shown her was priced twice her budget. When she let the realtor know she was firm in her price range, Nick made a joke about her winnings. A glare from her silenced him.
Nick had proved to be a distraction. In the second house, that was too far from the beach, he had picked up a Rolex watch thoughtlessly left on the kitchen counter by the owner of the home and tried to pocket it. His borderline-criminal instincts amused Faye but she couldn’t let him act on them. She mouthed “no” to him and he placed it back on the counter with a wink to her.
Other than having to keep an eye on him, he was making the day brighter.
He was impressed by the many amenities, the saunas and walk-in refrigerators that Faye had grown used to in her friend’s homes over the years. She felt like she was seeing a whole new world through his youthful and unspoiled eyes.
She began to wonder about his past and how he ended up in a garage apartment in Hollywood with too many parking tickets. She planned on subjecting him to a full interrogation on the drive home. She was eager to be alone with him again.
But even Nick, of the relentlessly high spirits, had grown tired by the fifth house. He stormed through it, pulling her by hand, making note of the details he liked. For an almost feral young man, he had surprisingly good taste, recognizing quality, and pointing out where the owners had cut corners. He referred to the cutting corners as “Home Depot Shit”, sending the realtor into near nervous collapse.
“Faye, we’re done here. This is it. This is your new house,” He said as they stood at the edge of the terraced garden by the black-bottomed swimming pool.
“Really?” She laughed with amazement that his opinion had grown to mean something to her, “It’s farther from the beach than I hoped for—
“The ones on the beach are up on the cliffs, and they were all too much money… according to you. I have doubts about that,” He stripped off his shirt revealing a broad shouldered and leanly muscular chest with a scattering of golden hair. Faye’s heartbeat quickened, and she felt as if her mouth were hanging open.
“This is what you wanted… Four bedroom immaculate cottage, rose bushes everywh
ere, privacy, alcoves, full ocean view from every room and it’s only three blocks from the beach.”
“What are you doing?” She covered her face with her hands as he took off his jeans.
“I’m going for a swim. It’s hot out.”
She moved her hand away from her face to find him stretching as if showing off for her. “You can’t do that…” She said as he dove into the pool.
“I just did…” He popped up out of the water and floated on his back, his eyes on her. “Come on in,” He beckoned her with a wave of his hand.
“No… I’m going to go inside and make an offer on the house. Should I bring you back a towel?” She was frozen in place as she watched him float in the pool. It was as if he had baptized her new home by jumping in.
“No, I’m good. The sun will dry me off.”
“Hmmmm,’ She hummed, still not taking a step away, lost in staring at Nick.
“I thought you were going inside to make an offer?” He splashed, waking her from the lost moment, “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
“Yes,” She turned and went back into the house.
…
“So, tell me about yourself. Where did you grow up? How did you end up in Los Angeles?” She asked as they got into her car to drive home.
“Not interesting. Why didn’t you swim with me? It seemed like you wanted to.”
“I find you very interesting, and for whatever reason we’ve been, temporarily at least, thrown together.”
“Thrown together,” He nodded his head, a playful smile on his face, “I like that. Tell me why you wouldn’t go for a swim and I’ll tell you all about myself.”
“I’m a grown woman with kids, Nick. I can’t just strip down to my underwear and jump in stranger’s pools.”
“It’s your pool now, and that’s not an answer.”
“It won’t be my pool for ninety days, and my answer is the truth.” She sighed heavily, “But I did want to jump in. Okay? Happy now?”
“I’m only going to be happy if we go for a swim.”
“That’s not possible. I don’t have a pool and I wouldn’t feel comfortable barging in on my friends to use theirs, especially with you.”
“Am I another one of your secrets?” He didn’t wait for answer, “You’re rich Faye. Let’s go buy you a bathing suit and we can check into a hotel for a swim.”
“No.”
“Give me one good reason why not.”
She thought for a minute and then two, “I don’t have a good reason. It just doesn’t seem proper to check into a hotel with someone half my age for a swim.”
“You’re right that’s not a good reason.” He tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to a shop in the little seaside village, “They sell bathing suits. We’re going to do this. And I want you to know I’ve gone out with plenty of women your age.”
“What does that mean?” She found herself pulling into a spot in front of the shop.
“You wanted to know about me, I’m telling you about me.” He shrugged, “Come on.”
His hand tentatively brushed against hers as they entered the shop. She wondered why he didn’t follow through on holding it. She wondered if she would have shaken him away.
…
He ran through the store collecting bikinis, tiny ones with G-strings and thrust them into her hands. She stared down at the pile not knowing what to do. Although she was not a fan of one-pieces, she wouldn’t have felt comfortable exposing her body to him in such a provocative way.
“No, but thank you,” She handed the pile off to the bored salesgirl who was hovering over the two of them, “Do you have any one-pieces?” She smiled to her and asked.
“You’re no fun. You figure it out. I’m going to go look around.” He wandered deeper into the store.
“He’s so cute,” The salesgirl trilled, “Is he your son?”
This was the fourth time she had been asked this question that day. The first time had been the realtor, the second and third by the occupants of the houses they had visited. She hadn’t thought much about it before, she assumed it was part of the social contract of introductions.
But looking at the smug salesgirl, she realized that not one of them had thought Nick was her son. They had presumed he was her lover, a toy for an older woman. They meant to shame her. Faye didn’t appreciate that at all.
“He’s my stepson, but his father’s out of town,” She smiled her brightest and winked at the girl, something she had never done in her life to another person.
She heard Nick’s laughter across the store and turned to see him nodding his head in approval. She had spoken to the salesgirl louder than intended. She walked towards him and spoke even louder, “Darling, you need swim trunks—
“You mean board shorts?”
“I suppose we could call them that.” She was used to dealing with generational verbal missteps while communicating with her daughters, and didn’t mind them but for some reason with Nick it bothered her, “We should get you some new clothes too. Your jeans are ragged and that t-shirt has seen better days… I’m not even going to mention your shoes.”
“You just mentioned my shoes,” He leaned into her and whispered, “I dig that you’re screwing with the salesgirl, but you don’t have to do this.”
“I’m a very rich woman. This is no different than me buying a sandwich for one of the traveler kids. And you know what? I don’t think this has anything to do with the salesgirl…” She jerked backwards, surprised that she had said that, even more surprised that she meant it.
“I normally don’t have any problem taking advantage of people, but I’m already living rent-free thanks to you. I don’t want to…”
“Don’t want to what?” She asked after a long pause.
“I’m not sure. Expectations, let you down? I don’t know.”
“If you don’t know then neither do I,” She turned to a different salesgirl who was standing in the corner, sneaking glances at her phone, “Could you help us? We need… board shorts and a few other items.”
“Of course…” She bustled towards them.
“Are you sure Faye?”
“Yes.”
…
They laid on the lounges by the pool at the Ritz Carlton down the road from Faye’s new home to be, covered in thick terrycloth robes and mounds of towels. The sun was setting on the hot day and a chill was in the air. The two of them had swum for over an hour, splashing around, racing across the pool until they were exhausted.
“Okay, I’ve completed my part in our bargain, we swam,” She placed the menu on the low table between them and turned on her side to face him, “Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to hear?” Nick turned on his side and rested his head on his hand with a sly smile.
“I want to hear about you.” She felt her face crinkle up questioningly and relaxed. She was sure that was not her most attractive expression.
“Who do you want me to be?”
“You said something like that in the Valley when we met. That’s a very strange expression. I want you to be whoever you are.”
“You have an angle, everyone does. I could tell my story a hundred different ways and they would all be true.”
“That’s a little deep for me. Let’s start with where you grew up.”
“I wasn’t in any one place long enough to claim it as my hometown.”
“You’re making this very difficult.”
“New England mostly, all over the Northeast. I lived in Ann Arbor for four years, full ride to the University of Michigan. I’m pretty sure the scholarship was based on my essay. I knew their angle, but I don’t know yours. It seems like you’re looking for an adventure, but then you’re so conservative.” He picked up the menu and lay on his back, holding it high above him to read it.
“Conservative? I gave a fully furnished apartment to a stranger and have now spent the day with him, even though the stranger, you, have criminal tendencies. I don’t see
anything conservative in that. Crazy would be a better a word choice.” She pulled the menu away from him, “Did you really go to college?”
He swung around on the lounge and sat up, “I guess I’ll just order a burger since you won’t let me look at the menu. And, yes I did go to college. I’ll never lie to you,” He stared into her eyes, making Faye uncomfortable. She looked away, “I might be… selective in what I tell you but I promise not to lie.”
He held his hand up like a boy scout for the second time in their relationship.
“What did you study?”
“Finance—
The waiter coming to take their order interrupted them. She ordered the salmon and Nick, true to his word, a hamburger.
“It’s getting late,” Faye said after the waiter had left, “I have to call… my husband.” She hadn’t thought about Adam all day, and resented the fact that her duty to him shadowed her day with Nick, “Be quiet,” She held her finger up the her lips, “Shhhh.”
She was relieved when her call went to voicemail. She left a long message, prattling on about the leathers for her handbag collection and Bergdorfs. Nothing she said made any sense.
“That was quite a story,” he fell back on the lounge laughing, “How long have you been making the bags? Is that one of them?” He pointed to her purse loosely swung over the vacant lounge next to them, “I like it.”
“Five years and thank you. I was a stay at home mom before that. But more importantly, back to you. How did you know so much about the homes we saw, the quality of the workmanship, the architectural styles?”
“My stepfather, Brian, was a carpenter. He was a good man.” He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
“Has he passed on? I’m so sorry.”
“No, he’s not dead. I think he lives in Maine now. I haven’t talked to him since I went away to college.”
“Why don’t you speak to him?”
“I don’t know… My mom left when I was three, drugs… I was alone in that broken down apartment for a week before Brian found me. He dated my mom on and off…” Nick shrugged as if it were no big deal, “He raised me, no reason to do it, he could have dumped me into a foster home but he did it anyway. I figure I would give him a break, let him live his life.”
