by Ames, Alex
“Tell me about your kids,” Louise asked. “I met them only once but little Dana already made a great impression on me.”
“Josh told me that you usually don’t care for kids,” Rick said.
“True. Usually I find them annoying. Especially when they are child actors, spoiled brats of fellow actors, or little obnoxious divas. But yours seem—I don’t know—serious. And normal.”
“I hope that isn’t bad. Kids shouldn’t be serious; they should be carefree and happy. But you’re right—they’re holding up pretty well. No drugs, no crime, no sex. I hope.”
“I know, of course, that Agnes is the oldest. And she seems to be the leader of the pack. When they were all excited at the set visit, it was her little glances or gestures that made the others cool it down a bit. Even your rebel daughter, Britta, seemed to heed her command.”
“If you ever wonder what Bella looked like when I first met her, have a look at Agnes. She’s a dead ringer. When I look at photos, sometimes only the date stamp tells me who it is I’m looking at. And you’re right, she is the master and commander, but in an unobtrusive way. I don’t know what I would have done without her after Bella died. Although she’ll claim otherwise, I think she lost most of her teen years and became an adult at fifteen. First, Bella’s pregnancy with Dana was pretty rough and had her in bed for weeks. Then the accident changed everything. A pretty tough development for a teen who should be worrying about which boy to date or which shoes to buy next.”
“Seems you worry a lot about your kids.”
“I used to be more easygoing. Bella was the cautious type. I’d say, ‘Let the kid climb the tree!’ Bella would say, ‘Oh no, she might fall and be crippled for life!’ After Bella was gone, I took over the role of the cautious one, and Agnes became the one who dared her siblings to try new things.”
“Good cop, bad cop. What are her plans? She’s in her junior year of high school?”
“Yeah. We’re in the process of selecting colleges. She is brooding over the general direction, not her usual decisive self.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to leave you guys?”
“I’ve heard that argument. We still have some time though.”
“Then there is Britta, hiding behind her mountain of curls . . .”
Rick laughed. “And bad mood and manners. Thirteen and doing everything to annoy me. Well, not everything. But over the last year she’s become complicated. More complicated than I remember Agnes being at that age. Man, we’ve been in shouting matches recently.”
“With Agnes growing up too soon, Britta is the first real teenager you’re experiencing,” Louise said and unwrapped another sandwich.
“Yeah, but Britta is trying too hard. Charles still sees her as the kid, and simply ignores her drama. But our life together somehow works—she adores her smaller siblings.”
“Interesting dynamics. Charles . . . now wait a second! All your kids are named alphabetically. Was that planned?”
“Agnes and Britta, no. Agnes was my mother-in-law’s name. She died shortly before Agnes’s birth. Britta was Bella’s grandmother’s name. Austrian, I think. But after two Bella-driven names, I had the right to pick name number three. And Charles it was. And then with number four announcing herself, Bella had to fall in line. Otherwise she was afraid to explain to Joanne why she was not following the pattern of her siblings.”
“That is a little crazy. Like in the seventies, the people who gave their kids numbers as names to break convention.”
“I am pretty sure that by now good old 56229 has had her name legally changed to Joan.”
“Right, she had always been confused with the ZIP code and was annoyed by all the misrouted mail she received.”
Rick laughed so hard that he got bread crumbs in his lungs, so he had to cough for a few minutes until everything was clear again. “There she is, Louise Waters, comedian.”
Louise crinkled her nose and stopped hitting Rick’s back. “Yeah, it breaks through sometimes. Charles is the only boy; how does he do among the girls?”
“That is a little hard to explain. He is the most intelligent human being I’ve ever met. He knows things, whereas I think, I am almost fifty and have no idea about this. How does he? The craziest stuff in all detail. He re-creates experiments he reads about in journals, either at home or at school. The physics and chemistry teachers trust him with the keys to the labs.”
“That is amazing. Have you had him tested?”
“Yes, after Bella died, and Charles turned weird. He was seven at the time, and suddenly became hyperactive, moody, always behind books, listening to radio programs, not talking much. I thought it was due to his mother’s death—that he was hiding behind some sort of self-made shell. The doctor did some tests. She had a suspicion that he might have some mild form of Asperger’s or autism, but he is socially fully adept, so that was quickly discarded. He simply had started learning, and he is simply super-intelligent.”
“Learning at an incredible speed.”
“That is the word, incredible. The doctor explained to me that Charles has questions that the people around him can’t answer, questions whose answers can only be discovered by himself on a journey that is his, and only his. He is alone in this gigantic cathedral of his mind, trying to build as he goes, filling it up.” A tear ran down Rick’s cheek.
“Are you crying? Over your son’s gift? We should change the topic! I can repeat the ZIP code joke if you like,” Louise was aghast. She had never seen a man cry before. Not even at the Hollywood funerals she had been to. Especially not at the Hollywood funerals.
“Sorry, talking about some aspects of my life scares me. I have a son who is here, but also on a whole different intellectual level. We play ball like father and son, which he enjoys. He joins us for trips, shopping, or movies, but I always feel like he is somewhere else.” He took the napkin, wiped away the tears, and cleared his running nose. “Almost done, sorry. You should have seen me watching Titanic.”
“Don’t excuse yourself for loving your kids. Where will Charles end up in life, you think?” Louise was fascinated.
“The doctor said that there will be a day when he’ll get away from the lab table, away from his books, and start creating something amazing. She expects it to be in his late teens, when creativity peaks and knowledge starts to level.”
“And what will he create?”
“According to her, this is where Charles’s trauma of having lost his mother very early comes in, he will not simply invent something to become the richest man in the world, he will try to better humanity. And she is right, he is amazing. Maybe he will cure cancer, find a way to sail to Mars, bend gravity, write the poem of all poems, or all of the above.”
“And you believe this?”
“He is my son. Of course I believe it!”
“Before you start crying again, tell me about Dana.”
“I can cry endlessly over her. She is the last kid and the only kid. Playing with Barbies, Legos, and pink dragons.” Rick looked out over the sea, then at Louise. “If there is any purpose in my life, it is seeing these four kids grow up.”
Louise suddenly felt very small and insignificant. I could live a hundred years and never do enough to deserve this family. And she did not dare to climb over the picnic basket and kiss Rick all over.
twelve
The Ledge
Rick
Rick felt like he was walking on clouds and his stomach was filled with butterflies as he arrived at the shipyard for the contract signing with Josh Hancock.
Take that grin off your face, or you will look like an idiot for the rest of the day, he thought as he waved to the crew, who were busy with their various tasks. Hal and Josh were talking about movies. Rick fetched a coffee and walked over to the table.
“Great scene when you head-butted that guy who had slept with your wife,” Hal said. “I tell you, the whole audience was cheering you on.”
“Yeah, that was a good scene. Excellent build
up.” Josh shook Rick’s hand. “Let’s get to it. My lawyers and your lawyer cleared the contract, the bank confirmed the advance. After you signed you will have access to the account.”
Rick and Hal put down their names under the agreement and all shook hands. A big weight was lifted of Rick’s shoulder, the contract was there, finally!
“Good to go for wood hunting?” Josh asked.
“I already have my visa and my ticket and will leave tomorrow morning for Surinam,” Hal confirmed. “We’ve already had contact with some brokers, and they’ve arranged for some visits with wood resellers.”
Josh looked happy. “Then I wish you all the best. Things are in motion, finally.”
“There is one more thing we would like to talk about,” Rick said. “Hal and I have discussed it, and it would make the whole process and restoration of the boat much easier.”
“Shoot,” Josh said.
“Could we make an investigation into the past of the boat? Asking the family, checking some boating archives. Inquiring with old-time builders.”
“What would be the purpose of that?”
“We think it is more important than ever. Your coach’s family didn’t know about the boat, and there were no documents about it in his possessions. But to have the original calculations and design of the boat would make things easier,” Hal explained.
“And cheaper!” Rick chimed in. “We can only reengineer so much, and without drawings or even photos we have no idea about the dimensions of the upper deck, the mast, or the sails.”
“Think about it this way,” Hal explained. “We are currently putting effort into restoring the chassis of a car, to make sure it runs. But we can’t see the form of the car, which is an essential part, don’t you think?”
To demonstrate, Rick had prepared three drawings, which he put on the meeting table side by side. “A little quiz. Which one is your boat?” The drawings were quick coal sketches of three different sailing vessels. All sported the same familiar lean hull but showed different cabin deck formats and sail rigging.
“Can’t you tell me?” Josh said. “Which one is . . . ” His voice trailed off. “Oh, I see what you mean now.”
“And I did not cheat,” Rick said. “All three designs are probable. The left one is optimized for racing, the middle one toward cruising, and the right one you can consider simply beautiful for its looks.”
Josh nodded in eventual agreement. “All right, I trust you guys, start digging. Keep me updated.”
Louise
Then came the point of no return. They’d had three dates so far, two alone and one with the kids that had gone really well: a hiking trip. Rick had seemingly become more confident around Louise; there had been a level of comfort on the third and fourth dates that Louise longed for with all her heart.
It just feels right, so right to be with him. Hope he feels the same! Dear God, let him feel the same about me! Then she felt bad because she had asked for God’s intervention for her own benefit. But this was the chance for both of them to make a new start in their lives.
Fifth date, Saturday night. Two weeks after the first one. They were going to an LA comedy club to watch a young female comedian perform; she was supposed to play the funny sidekick to the leading actor in the next movie coproduced by Louise. Louise put on her Ivana disguise, this time toning it down, style-wise. With Converses, Levi’s, and an Abercrombie top and jacket, she looked like a UCLA student.
“Like a UCLA student going out with her father,” Rick commented as they stood in line for the first set, which was due to start at seven.
“Father or sugar daddy?” Louise-Ivana teased him, talking in a broad, smoky Brooklyn accent to throw off listeners.
“You wish. You’re too expensive for me.”
Louise felt happy, and daring. She stood on her toes and gave Rick a kiss, the first real kiss, full on the mouth. And as if he had had the same idea, Rick embraced her, and they melted into each other’s arms.
“Guys, stop slobbering, get a move on!” was the comment from the people lining up behind them. Breathlessly they came apart, orienting themselves, then laughing and moving the five yards farther toward the door of the club.
For the rest of the wait, they stood side by side, arms around each other, stealing glances now and then, as if neither of them could believe what had happened. They both knew that this was the next step in their relationship. Winning over was done; this was now serious necking business.
“Ticket?” the gorilla at the door said.
Louise bent toward the doorkeeper. “We are on the guest list. Ivana Voda plus one.”
And sure enough, Ivana Voda held a place, and they were waved through.
“I thought the Ivana thing was a joke you used for our first date,” Rick said.
“Oh no, she is my current alter ego, to give me basic privacy. I change it every few months or so, as the identity slowly leaks. With Instagrammers and Snapchatters everywhere, your secret identity is only as good as the first random shot.” Louise steered them to the side bar, where they could look over the stage but were somewhat hidden behind some columns.
“Ivana Voda?”
“Voda means water in Ukrainian. I like to be creative and consistent in detail when it comes to my disguises.”
“What will you hide behind in a few months? A fierce red wig?”
“Probably pixie style, short red, bob cut. The long, red, curly look, we did that little over a year ago.”
“Sexy, looking forward to that.”
“Sexy? You haven’t seen anything yet.” And Louise leaned over and they kissed again, endlessly, like teenagers, not caring about the amused glances of bystanders.
Rick
They came up for air when the first act was about to go onstage. It was like bursting out of water after holding one’s breath for a long, long, long time, lungs aching, heart pounding in your rib cage, head dizzy. And desperate to repeat.
The only time even close was the first time Bella and I kissed, Rick thought. But this here is beyond everything ever. She is so light and small. And smells so good. And that tongue, how does that work with her little mouth?
The announcer praised the first act as “the funniest girl west of LA, Laura Gold!”
Whether Laura was worth her material was left up to the audience, but not for Rick. His head did not stop spinning all through her set. He had kissed Louise. Rick felt great! Rick felt bad! Rick didn’t know what to feel!
They stayed on for the following act, a lame Jay Leno look-alike without the chin and the punch, had some soft drinks, and then strolled along La Cienega Boulevard, arm in arm. Floris a short distance behind.
“Want to have a drink in one of the bars nearby?” Louise asked. “Or want to come to my place?”
“This is the craziest night ever. First the kiss, then this comedy lady, and now . . .” Rick got no further, as Louise gave him another kiss, full of longing and passion.
The drive back to Louise’s Bel Air home took twenty minutes in Rick’s car. Louise typed something on her phone, and Floris overtook them and sped off ahead.
“You sent him off?” Rick asked.
“Paparazzi check. Otherwise, you’ll find your face on TMZ tonight.”
They passed the Bel Air Country Club and drove up the winding streets overlooking the golf course. Bellagio Road turned into Chalon Road turned into Chantilly Road, which became Somera Road. It was already dark, and here and there you could see some homes holding summer parties in gardens or on terraces, some of them with improvised valet parking, not to annoy the neighbors.
“Posh spot you picked,” Rick remarked.
“You’ll see in a minute why,” Louise said, and her phone gave a ping. “We’re clear.”
“What would have been Plan B?”
“A cheap rundown motel in Westwood,” Louise admitted
“Never had that experience.”
They drove the length of Somera Road, a long cul-de-sac on top of the r
idge. Two big properties with fences ended the road, and Floris parked on the side, motor still running. Louise pressed something on her phone and the nine-foot wooden gate of the left property opened automatically. Rick and then Floris drove into the parking lot of the driveway, and lights switched on automatically in the front yard.
Rick switched off the car. “Your bodyguard stays with us?”
Louise leaned over from the passenger seat and kissed Rick. “Floris lives here, too. But don’t worry, he’s out of sight and out of earshot.”
“That is a first. I remember college dorm times with a girl when there was a party going on outside.”
“Right, very similar, just in Bel Air.” She jumped out of the minivan and ran around to the driver’s door and opened it for Rick, leaned over, stole another kiss and unlatched his safety belt.
“Lady, you want to carry me over the threshold, or what?”
“If that’s what it will take!” Louise took his left hand and gently pulled him out of the car. They walked over to the door that Floris had already opened.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Rick pulled back. “Did you even see what just happened?”
Louise looked around, not getting his point. “What?”
“Someone opened the front door of the house and went inside.”
“That is standard procedure, a quick check of the main security panel before Floris declares the house clear.”
“Louise.” Rick stopped at the front door, Louise already inside. “Stop!”
“Come in,” she said and hugged Rick. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s have a fantastic fifth date.”
“Louise, I can’t do it. I feel bad saying this, but I’d feel even worse not saying anything and letting you do whatever you are trying to do right now.”
