by Andrea Speed
“Bring my phone back when you come in for breakfast,” she said and left.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, buddy, sorry I haven’t been out to see you yet. Work’s been crazy.”
“That’s okay.” A.J. knew his dad would never come to Bagdad because of Bill.
“I’ve got some news…. I’m moving to Los Angeles—actually, Pasadena.”
“What?” A.J. felt a wave of panic. He wanted his dad to stay in Colorado. “When?”
“I’ve been out here for a few months now, living out of a suitcase, but I just bought a townhouse.”
A.J. glared at a clump of hay at his feet. He wanted to drop the phone and walk away from everything.
“I want you to come for a visit this summer. Would you be up for that?”
A.J. kicked the hay and straw flew. What was in Pasadena besides little old ladies and rose gardens? A horsefly landed on his cheek. He smacked himself hard with his rubber-gloved hand. The fly buzzed away, his face stung, and he smelled freshly smeared dung.
“Can I come as soon as school’s out?”
“Sure.”
“Great.”
A.J. wiped dung off his cheek with his sleeve. He decided he’d gladly put up with whatever awaited him in California.
THE AIRPORT in Burbank was tiny compared to the one in Phoenix, where he’d gotten lost trying to find his departure gate. Here he simply stepped off the plane onto the tarmac, entered the terminal, and beelined fifty feet to the baggage claim carousel.
His dad was supposed to be waiting for him but was nowhere to be seen. As he waited at the conveyor for his roller bag, which was filled with faded jeans and old T-shirts, he worried his dad might have gotten into a car wreck. He cursed Bill for not letting him have a cell phone.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
He turned around and found a woman eyeing him curiously. She had to be his mom’s age, but she was nothing like his mom. She didn’t dress in plain Western wear, nor was her hair drawn into a ponytail and colored dark brown to hide her gray. The woman’s blond bob, chic pink sundress, and touches of makeup made her look like a TV star.
“A.J.?”
He blinked, surprised she knew his name. “Yes?”
“I knew it. You’re handsome as your father. I’m Marybeth.” She shook his hand. “This is my nephew, Cory.”
A dark-haired teen behind her nodded at him. He was nothing like the chalk-covered guys who mined the open pit in Bagdad in worn boots and tattered Wranglers. Like a diver who’d surfaced from the depths, he glistened. His sparkling blue eyes stirred an emotion A.J. hadn’t felt since he’d been friends with Dylan.
He quickly looked at Marybeth, struggling to shun the feeling. “Where’s my dad?”
Inside her purse, a muffled Toni Tennille warbled “Love Will Keep Us Together.”
“That’s him calling.” Marybeth fished out a smartphone. “Here, surprise him.”
A.J. took the device. “Hello, Dad?”
“A.J.? Marybeth found you?”
“Yes, where are you?”
“At the office. We’ve got an emergency with a client in Seoul.”
“Oh.”
“Marybeth’s gonna bring you to the office later. We’ll pick up pizzas for dinner. You still like pineapple and mushroom?”
“Sure,” A.J. said, and then heard a woman’s frantic voice call his dad’s name.
“I gotta run, buddy. Glad you’re here. See you tonight,” his dad said and ended the call.
A.J. gave Marybeth the phone, not surprised his dad was a no-show. In Colorado, he’d always missed A.J.’s high school swim meets. He’d failed to attend his mom’s equestrian events too. No wonder she’d divorced him. He’d even wrecked their plans for a Christmas vacation at Disney World. Last minute, she had to cancel everything because he had an emergency work trip to Tokyo. She’d appeased A.J. with a weekend of snowboarding lessons in Breckenridge instead. But she’d griped the entire time about his dad being a slave to his new yuppie job. A.J. was surprised the man had found time to meet Marybeth. As he leaned over the conveyor and snatched his roller bag with a grunt, he wondered how long it would take her to get fed up with him too.
AS HE wedged himself into the back of a blue Beetle convertible, he assumed the drive would be miserable. He already resented the fact Marybeth and Cory got to be around his dad. Hearing about their adventures with him was going to be pure hell.
When Cory sat in the passenger seat, Marybeth hitched her thumb at him. “In the back with A.J., mister.”
“But—”
“No buts. You guys can talk better back there.”
Geez, was she crazy? They’d practically be on top of each other. A.J. scooched away as Cory reluctantly crammed himself into the back. She fired up the Beetle and made the top go down. “We’ve got time to kill before we head to your dad’s office. We can loaf at my house, or I can take you somewhere that’s really neat.”
She peered at him through the rearview mirror, and the look in her eyes disarmed him. She was offering him a genuine choice, not ordering him around like Bill.
“Okay, as long as we go someplace where there’s no horse dung.”
“You got it.” As she backed out of the parking space, she pressed buttons on the dashboard. “What do you guys want to listen to?”
A.J. glanced at Cory, who gave him a shrug. A.J. said, “You choose, Marybeth.”
“How about Cory’s favorite, the Scissor Sisters?”
“No, he won’t like them.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a… cowboy.”
“Take a listen, A.J. If you don’t like them, I’ll play something else.”
Vibrant notes rippled out of Marybeth’s speakers and a tenor wailed. The singer’s sweet voice bewitched A.J. “Who’s singing?”
“Jake Shears,” Cory muttered, looking glum that his aunt had put his musical tastes up for scrutiny.
“He’s electric… like Freddie Mercury.”
Cory blinked at him, appearing unbelieving.
“I can’t wait to hear more,” A.J. reassured him. “By the way, I’m not a cowboy. Or a redneck. I can’t wait to get out of Arizona forever.”
Cory uncoiled a bit. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you were.”
“No problem.” A.J. relaxed some too as Marybeth exited the airport and merged onto the Golden State Freeway. Cool air blew his hair, sunshine warmed his face, and a never-ending city percolated around him. The songs became more and more fun. He felt as though he were listening to his mom and dad’s favorites—Elton John, Duran Duran, the Bee Gees, and Blondie—all rolled into one. Marybeth sang along. He caught himself drumming the side of the car, stopped, and stole a glance at Cory, who seemed to be trying to refrain from bobbing his head. If he liked this happy kind of music, maybe he’d be okay to hang with while he was in California. For a second, he fantasized they were friends and cut loose and danced together like Ren and Willard in Footloose. He’d be Willard, a goofy small town boy, and Cory would be Ren, a cool outsider from the city. Tammy used to say she wanted to kiss Ren whenever his swim gang had watched Footloose in his basement. He secretly wouldn’t have minded kissing Ren either. One thing was sure, though—he’d never kiss Cory. No way was anyone going to shove him to the ground again.
WITH EVERY step he felt grit in his shoes and between his toes. He didn’t care. He couldn’t contain himself when he saw a vast ocean for the first time. He’d peeled off his shoes and socks, dashed across the hot sand, and splashed into the cool surf, letting waves sop the legs of his jeans. He heard Cory behind him, turned around, and saw him shaking his head at the water’s edge. “Dude, you’re crazy.”
“But it’s amazing,” A.J. countered.
“Watch out!”
A huge wave crashed against his backside, soaking him to his nipples, and he gasped, “Oh shit! It’s freezing!”
Cory clapped his hands together and giggled hard.
The wave receded, and h
e shivered. Not from the cold that nipped his skin. Cory was gazing at him in a way no boy ever had.
Now Marybeth was leading them not toward her Beetle but to a sleek modern building ahead. The warm Long Beach sunshine had almost dried his damp clothes. Cory was on her other side, paying him no attention. Had he really seen that look in Cory’s eyes? The look boys gave girls in Bagdad. The look Dylan had given Penny Nichols at their school dance. He wasn’t so sure now.
“Your dad told me you want to be a marine biologist,” Marybeth said. “He said you used to have an aquarium filled with amazing fish and their colors swirled like a kaleidoscope. Soon as I heard that, I knew I had to bring you here.”
She pointed out lettering on the building ahead. A.J. shielded his eyes from the sun and read: Aquarium of the Pacific.
“No way!” he exclaimed.
His excitement turned Cory’s head. The boy gazed at him again. It was that look. It had to be. A.J. dared to look straight into his dreamy blue eyes. Cory sort of frowned and looked down. Embarrassed, A.J. looked away and vowed to keep his eyes to himself the rest of the trip.
Marybeth fished money from her purse and gave them each a fifty-dollar bill. “I’m going shopping downtown. You guys eat something at the aquarium’s café and meet me back here at three.”
“Okay,” A.J. said. “Thank you.”
“Have fun.” She left them for a shopping center across Shoreline Drive.
“Your aunt’s really cool,” A.J. said as they headed for the ticket windows.
“So’s your dad. I’m really glad they’re dating.”
“Well, I’m not,” A.J. heard himself snap. “He should be with my mom.”
“I’m sorry,” Cory murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Forget it.” A.J. walked ahead of him. “Let’s get tickets.”
Inside, his funk lifted when he saw the humongous floor-to-ceiling tanks glowing a magical blue. He forgot everything and lost himself in the aquarium’s watery world. Each few steps, he stopped and peered. Every species fascinated him: fantastical sea dragons, mystical seahorses, ghostly jellyfish, slithering sea snakes, spiky-finned lionfish, sluggish starfish, lackadaisical octopi, fierce sharks, devilish rays, barking seals, jumpy frogs, splashing penguins, playful otters, blooming anemones, giant sea turtles, and colorful coral. But his favorites were the bright orange, white, and black clownfish. A pair lingered before his nose.
“They look like Nemo and his dad in Finding Nemo.”
Surprised, A.J. turned and found Cory beside him, looking at the same two fish.
“I was thinking that too.” In spite of himself, he let his gaze linger, remembering Cory’s giggles when the wave soaked him. Forbidden emotions seethed inside him again, but he suddenly didn’t care. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to get to know Cory, to grow close to him, and to take the feelings back to Arizona for keeps. This time, he wouldn’t allow a nasty memory to taint them, so he reiterated to himself—no damn kiss—and tried to put them on better footing. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’d like for us to be friends while I’m here. Just no more talk about parents, okay?”
“Okay,” Cory said, still gazing at the two clownfish.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving. I wonder if they have fish tacos.”
As though they’d heard him, the two clownfish abruptly darted away, and both boys laughed hard. A.J. knew the rest of their day was going to be brighter.
WHEN HIS dad set the mushroom and pineapple pizza on the dining room table, A.J. burped, still half-full from four fish tacos he’d had for lunch with Cory. Marybeth had dropped him off at his dad’s office in downtown Los Angeles, where he’d played Plants vs. Zombies on a spare PC for three hours while his dad wrapped up business with Seoul. They’d picked up the pizza on the way to his dad’s townhouse, and his dad had asked him about his day. A.J. told him he liked Marybeth and that he had a good time eating with Cory at the aquarium. Cory had asked him about Bill’s horse ranch, Bagdad’s copper mine, and the fish tank he’d had in Colorado. He told Cory all about the tank—the oversized dimensions, the special filter and heater and lights, the weird plants he’d special ordered, and the live worms Mom allowed him to keep in the refrigerator to feed the bigger fish and frogs. He’d wondered aloud to Cory if Dylan still had the tank and if any of his colorful fish were still alive. Cory said he hoped so and then talked about working at a movie theater where they showed indie films and said he could get A.J. a job if he stayed the whole summer.
He glanced at his dad, hopeful, but he didn’t extend an invitation to stay until September.
So he continued and told his dad about the cool movies Cory saw like The Way Way Back that he’d never see in Arizona. He didn’t, however, reveal how Cory was already making him feel those fantastic forbidden emotions he felt when he met the right boy. How he loved hearing Cory’s laugh. How looking at him for more than a couple of seconds made him almost sizzle. He wanted to know Cory inside and out. He wanted to hear his secrets. And he longed to touch him. When Marybeth had returned late from shopping and they’d sat together awkward and silent in the Beetle’s backseat, oh how he’d wanted Cory to lean over and give him his first kiss.
His dad handed him a plate. He grabbed a slice of pizza and followed him to the living room, where they settled and ate on their old leather sofa. His dad had also kept their towering bookshelf, squatty coffee table, and impressionist painting of springtime in the Rocky Mountains. A.J. was glad to see the old furnishings because there were nearly no reminders of Colorado in Bagdad. Everything at the horse ranch belonged to Bill.
“Hey, buddy, would you be up for going to a wedding reception with me and Marybeth?”
He almost choked on pizza. “You guys are getting married?”
His dad laughed. “No, her friend Jamie is.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been to a wedding reception.”
“What about your mom and Bill’s?”
“There wasn’t one. They got married at the courthouse in Prescott while I was at school.” He didn’t feel like rehashing that dreary day, so he quickly asked, “Is Cory going?”
“I think so. Marybeth said Jamie is his counselor or something at school.”
The thought of seeing Cory dressed up excited him. He’d look like a young movie star on the red carpet at a world premiere. Then he remembered the old jeans and T-shirts inside his roller bag. “I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have anything nice to wear.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.”
“Okay then, sure, I’ll go.”
A.J. took another bite of pizza and hoped he’d get to sit next to Cory. His dad went to the dining room. A.J. whipped his head in that direction when he heard his dad talking on the phone.
“Hey, Marybeth. A.J.’s gonna go with us to the reception on Friday. I’m gonna give him a few bucks. Would you mind taking him shopping tomorrow while I’m at the office…? No, Target will be fine…. For trousers and a shirt. A belt and shoes too. He can wear my dress socks…. What…? Are you sure…? Okay, babe…. Love you too,” he said and ended the call.
“Dad, I can go to Target by myself.”
“Marybeth squashed Target.”
“Why?”
“She’s got something different in mind.”
“What?”
“She wants to surprise you.”
A.J. picked pineapple off his pizza and popped it in his mouth. If her clothing adventure was anything like her aquarium surprise, he knew tomorrow was going to be sweet.
RODEO DRIVE was not their destination. He stopped thinking he might spot Kevin Bacon or someone from The Hunger Games when Marybeth parked by a large warehouse in a bleak industrial district of North Hollywood.
She’d picked him up at his dad’s townhouse, and they’d cruised through sunny valleys on the 134 Freeway with the Beetle’s top down. As Marybeth talked, he’d listened and gazed
at her every so often, amazed his dad was dating her. Unlike his mom, she was full of surprises. She’d floored him when she divulged that she was a wardrobe stylist for film and television productions and worked with Hollywood celebrities all the time. No wonder she dressed like a star. He was also stunned to learn Cory lived with her, not his parents. He was itching to ask why but held his tongue. He didn’t want her to think he was too nosey. She told him Cory’s counselor at school, Jamie, was one of her best friends. He’d coaxed Cory out of his shell and gotten him to join Yearbook Club—which Jamie advised—after Cory moved here last year from Texas. He’d helped get Cory the job working at a movie theater too. He wanted Cory to meet his older brother, who worked in publishing in New York and would be in town for the wedding. Right then, she’d peered at him over the top of her Ray-Bans. “By the way, Cory’s thrilled you’re going to the reception. Thank you for being a friend to him yesterday. It means a lot to me.”
Now, as she led him toward the warehouse, he couldn’t get her words out of his head. He could not wait to see Cory again.
They rounded the corner of the building. “This is where we got Cory’s outfit.”
He eyed the sign above the door. “Western Costume Company? Like for Halloween?”
“Yep, any character you’ve ever seen in a movie, they’ve got—Darth Vader, Indiana Jones, the Cowardly Lion, Gandalf, Captain America, you name it. Cory’s wearing a replica of the suit Leonardo DiCaprio wore in the big party scene of The Great Gatsby.”
“No way.” A.J. could see him now, so handsome in that suit. He imagined embracing him in a slow dance and feeling the fine fabric against his fingertips.
“What’s your favorite movie?” Marybeth asked.
“Footloose.”
“Original or remake?”
“Original.”
“Hmm, the prom scene had some fun tuxes. We’ll fashion you in formal wear inspired by the eighties but with stylish modern lines and tones. You’ll look smashing.”
“Okay, sure.”
He could hardly believe his good fortune. She was nothing like Bill. She made him feel like a celebrity. No wonder his dad had fallen for her.
