Boardwalk Summer

by Meredith Jaeger

  Benny smiled. “The Iris and Vogue theaters are the favorites for studio previews. There’s also the Roxy. I’m sure you’ve seen Grauman’s—that’s for first-run showings, where you’ll find the stars. Then you’ve got the Tele-View Theater. You can watch newsreels there. An hour of current news is twenty-five cents. It used to be called the Hitching Post and show Saturday matinee westerns.”

  His face grew serious. “What do you think of the war in Europe?”

  “Oh, I—”

  Charles berated me, told me I knew nothing of politics. But Benny waited for my answer.

  “To be honest, I’m frightened. I feel there’s a very dark cloud on the horizon and it’s coming toward us. I fret for the people of England, constantly under siege by bombs.” A lump rose in my throat.

  Benny reached out his hand and covered mine. I sharply drew in my breath.

  “It is frightening. You’re absolutely right. There’s a storm gathering in Europe and it’s going to have a direct effect on Hollywood. Some of our best filmmakers are concerned that soon we’ll be making nothing but propaganda films.”

  “Do you think America will join the war?” I asked, slowly pulling my hand away. My eyes darted about the restaurant, fearful that someone may have noticed us touching. But everyone appeared engrossed in conversation.

  Benny nodded gravely. “I do. And if it happens, our best actors and Hollywood stars will likely join the war effort. And what then? The talent pool will be depleted.”

  I shook my head. “The movie palaces are such a needed escape for the American people. If we don’t have laughter, then what do we have?”

  Benny smiled at me. “You’re a smart cookie. You know that? Humor is absolutely essential when fighting a dictatorship. Look at the Charlie Chaplin film lampooning the Third Reich. Have you seen it?”

  “I haven’t,” I said, slowly taking another sip of my drink. “Is it funny?”

  “You haven’t seen The Great Dictator? It’s a hoot!” His blue eyes fixed on mine. “If it shows again, I’ll bring you along. Roxy can come too. Well, she may talk through the whole thing. But I’d like to hear what you think of it.”

  I giggled. Talking with Benny felt nice, as though he were truly listening to me. How many times had I cautiously brought up a topic of concern with Charles, only for him to flip it around so that I became the problem? Whenever I tried to assert my opinion, Charles told me I was ridiculous and overreacting. Or he’d simply leave the house, like the morning of the bacon grease incident.

  Benny looked at me. “It’s a tragedy what’s happening in Europe. But it’s for our gain in Hollywood. Do you know how many German artists and intellectuals have immigrated here since the outbreak of the war? The Nazis have driven out the best talent. Ernst Lubitsch, Hedy Lamarr, Salka Viertel, Billy Wilder—I could go on and on.”

  I didn’t recognize all the names, but I smiled. “Hedy Lamarr is so beautiful. There’s not another face in the world like hers.”

  Benny winked at me. “Yours ain’t bad either. I think Ernst Lubitsch will take a shine to you. And you’ll like him. Hell, he got Garbo to smile.”

  I chuckled. Ninotchka had been promoted with the tagline “Garbo laughs!”, commenting on the departure from Greta Garbo’s serious roles. I’d found the film quite funny, and enjoyed its subtle criticism of the Soviet Union.

  My stomach fluttered as I imagined shaking hands with the famous and sophisticated Hollywood director. From what I’d heard, films that received the “Lubitsch touch” made them all the more prestigious. But my butterflies scattered when an image of Charles popped unbidden into my mind.

  “Say.” I carefully met Benny’s eyes. “Do you have any lawyer friends? I have a matter I’d like to discuss in private.”

  Benny raised an eyebrow. “Well, that sounds rather intriguing. You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”

  I put on my pageant smile. “Not at all. I’ve received an inheritance from my late grandmother, but my cousin feels she’s entitled to a larger share than I am.”

  Benny laughed. It shocked me how easily lies came to me now—as if a little creativity could erase my past entirely.

  “I know some lawyers,” he said. “And I’m happy to help out a gal in need. Roxy tells me you’re working as a cigarette girl with her at the Tropicana. Come with me to Ernst Lubitsch’s party tomorrow night. Between your charisma and your late grandmother’s dough, I have a feeling you won’t be selling cigarettes for much longer.”

  I smiled. “I hope so. Will Roxy be joining us?”

  Benny shook his head. “I can only bring one date. I’m a lowly screenwriter. It wouldn’t do to arrive with too many people.”

  “I see,” I replied, though my stomach knotted at the word “date.” “It’s awfully kind of you to invite me, but won’t Roxy be put out?”

  Benny’s eyes glinted. “Roxy’s had plenty of chances in this town. You’re fresh off the bus. Seize your moment. You can’t be afraid of stepping on toes.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said, my nerves abating slightly with another sip of my drink. “Thank you. Truly.”

  Benny brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  A jolt of fear worked its way down my spine in a shiver. My eyes traveled from Benny’s mouth to the man in the fedora at the next table over. Had he been watching us? The man returned to his drink, appearing disinterested. But if he were a private investigator sent by Charles, it would be his job to appear normal.

  “I’d better be going,” I said. “It’s getting late.”

  “Of course,” Benny said. “I’ll call you a cab.”

  As he stood up and strolled toward the bar, I glanced at the man in the fedora, only to find his table empty. I took a deep breath in and let it out. Charles couldn’t find me here. I hadn’t told Harry the name of the motel where I was staying. But suddenly the city of stars felt small—claustrophobic.

  Benny returned and extended his arm to me. He grinned when I took it. “Bring a bathing suit for tomorrow night’s soiree and an evening dress. Lubitsch’s pool parties are unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

  “Indeed,” I said, the warmth of excitement pushing away the last shivery remnants of fear. “I can’t wait to see what’s in store.”

  Chapter 14

  Marisol Cruz

  2007

  Mari opened the kitchen windows to let in the summer breeze. Sinking onto a high-backed chair, she listened to her father reading to Lily in the living room. Lily giggled. She loved it when her abuelo did funny voices for their bedtime stories.

  “Mija,” Paulina said, taking a seat next to Mari. “Is everything all right? You seem off tonight. You acted strange when the mayor came to speak with you.”

  Mari’s jaw tightened. “Did I? I guess I’m still upset about the construction plans to knock down the gazebo.”

  Paulina stared at Mari, the crease between her brows evidence that she wasn’t satisfied. “Are you sure? Because I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “. . . And the big bear, he’s also a tickle monster!”

  Lily shrieked in delight. Mari’s father had to be tired after a long day at work, but around Lily, he never showed his fatigue. Lily was lucky to have him as an abuelo. He was an amazing dad and grandfather. But he was getting older. And it broke Mari’s heart that Lily would never have a father—one who loved her, was there for her first smile, first steps and first day of school.

  A tear slipped down Mari’s cheek. “It’s hard, Ma. She’s getting older, and she’s asking questions. I don’t have answers for her. I’m still so angry that her father chose not to be a part of her life.”

  Paulina gently rubbed Mari’s back. “I know it’s hard. But we’re not going anywhere. Do you know how stubborn your dad is? He’s going to live to be at least ninety years old. Look at him.”

  They glanced into the living room, where Lily was now riding on her abuelo’s back, while he pretended to be
a bear.

  Mari laughed, wiping the tear from her cheek. Her final year of college, she’d had so many plans: to move to the Bay Area, to get her own apartment. She’d already applied for the graduate program in history at Cal. She imagined visiting San Francisco museums on the weekend, shopping with friends, going to concerts. She’d even found a room on Craigslist, sunny with hardwood floors, near the Berkeley campus and the Greek Theater, where she’d listen to her favorite bands beneath the stars.

  She hadn’t intended to move back in with her parents. Her acceptance letter from UC Berkeley had arrived a week after she’d found out she was pregnant. She’d cried, looking at the letterhead, thinking of the apartment she’d never move into. Then her beloved grandfather died, and her parents inherited his house. Life had come full circle, and with Ricardo’s death, the gift of this beach cottage brought them all together. Being a single mom was hard, but Mari couldn’t imagine doing it without her family.

  “Come here,” Paulina said. “Give me a hug.”

  Mari closed her eyes, feeling like a child again in the comfort of her mother’s embrace—not the mom who needed to take care of Lily.

  “Thanks, Ma,” she whispered. “We better go in there before Dad gets Lily so riled up she won’t sleep. It’s time for her bath.”

  WIPING A TABLE in a circular motion, Mari lost herself in the repetition. She tried not to think about her grant application, which she’d submitted that morning. Hope was a dangerous thing. If she allowed herself to hope, she’d set herself up for disappointment when things didn’t go as planned. What if the summer came to an end, her job at the boardwalk led nowhere, and she worked at the Jupiter Café until she was fifty years old? Hell, she could become the new Wanda, cat’s-eye glasses and all.

  Sighing, she threw the dirty dishcloth into her apron pocket and walked toward the heat of the kitchen. Tacky plastic bracelets jingled against her arms. She’d even worn a pair of hideous clip-on earrings to appease Wanda, and put on a swipe of pink lipstick. If Wanda wanted tacky, she wasn’t going to fight her today.

  Covering her mouth, Mari yawned. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night, and her thoughts had drifted to Violet. Why had she committed suicide? Mari wondered if Violet had felt isolated. She didn’t have any proof that Charles was a bad husband, but his quote from their wedding announcement stuck in her mind. Violet is my most prized possession. She’d likely been very depressed. Maybe she felt trapped.

  Throwing the dirty towel into the laundry hamper in back of the kitchen, Mari walked toward the restroom to wash her hands. She was nearing the end of her shift and looking forward to a quiet night at home. Her cell phone vibrated in her apron pocket. Glancing around the back room, Mari didn’t see Wanda, so she flipped it open.

  “Hey, Mari?”

  At first, she didn’t recognize the male voice.

  “It’s Jason. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, I’m just about to end my shift at work. What’s up?”

  “I won a raffle prize.”

  Mari smiled. “That’s great! You did buy a hundred dollars’ worth of tickets, so your odds were pretty good. What did you win?”

  “Dinner for two at Trabocco.”

  The butterflies in Mari’s stomach refused to settle. Shutting the restroom door behind her, she leaned against the stall door away from prying eyes. Hopefully Wanda couldn’t hear her through the wall.

  “Oh, um, nice.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard it’s really good. Hopefully you’ll join me?”

  Mari wondered if he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’d like that.”

  “Wonderful. Any chance you’re free tonight? The weather’s great, we could sit outside, and it’s Friday.”

  Mari bit her lip, thinking about what she’d planned to do: hang out with Lily and then curl up in bed with a good book. But something about Jason’s enthusiasm made her change her mind.

  “I’ll check with my parents to see if they can babysit. Let me call you right back.”

  WHEN MARI STEPPED into the kitchen wearing a yellow lace sundress and wedge-heeled espadrilles, Lily’s whole face lit up.

  “Mama. You look so pretty!”

  Mari smiled. “You think so?”

  She’d taken the time to curl her hair, and to put on some mascara and lipstick.

  “Like a princess!” Lily said. “Where are you going?”

  Mari looked at her mother, and Paulina smiled approvingly.

  “I’m meeting a friend.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “A friend who is a boy.”

  Lily giggled. “Mama has a boyfriend!”

  Mari hoped her daughter didn’t notice the blush in her cheeks as she bent down to hug her goodbye. “Have fun with Abuela. I love you.”

  Lily smelled like apple shampoo and her sweet, soft skin. “Love you too, Mama.”

  “Thanks, Ma,” Mari said. “I won’t stay out too late.”

  Paulina winked. “You stay out as late as you want to.”

  Mari smoothed her dress, feeling an unexpected jolt of nerves. When was the last time she’d been on a date? She tried to dispel them, waving goodbye to her family as she stepped out the door. It was just Jason. They were friends. People her age got together for dinner and drinks on a Friday night all the time—this was normal.

  Walking through the neighborhood from Beach Hill, Mari listened to the calming ocean waves and watched the surfers bobbing on their boards in the fading sunlight. Seagulls cawed overhead, and the smell of sea brine and wildflowers carried on the summer breeze. Jason was right, something about the unusually warm weather made this summer night feel magical, like anything was possible. Mari hadn’t felt the excitement of possibility in a long time.

  When she stepped through the threshold of Trabocco, the host ushered her through the restaurant and into the courtyard in back. Brick walls covered in ivy enclosed the intimate space and lanterns strung overhead winked like fireflies.

  “Here you are,” the waiter said, pointing to a table in back.

  Jason stood, and all the butterflies in Mari’s stomach took flight like the monarchs at Natural Bridges. He’d changed out of his usual jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, looking smart in a short-sleeved button-down checkered shirt and a pair of gray slacks. He smiled when he met her eyes, his own eyes twinkling. She felt something then—the strangest thing. A feeling of calm came over her, almost relief to see him.

  “Hey,” he said, wrapping her in a hug. “You made it.”

  She breathed in the scent of his cologne, sweet and spicy—like sandalwood and bergamot.

  “I did,” she replied. “Not too far of a walk from my house.”

  “You walked over in those?” Jason asked, looking at her espadrilles.

  Mari laughed. “They’re comfortable. You’d be surprised.”

  Jason smiled. “You look really beautiful.”

  Mari brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. “Thanks. You actually clean up very nicely yourself.”

  “Well, I almost wore my strappy sandals too, but then we’d be matching, so I decided against it.”

  Mari rolled her eyes. “Ha ha.”

  “So,” Jason said, his hair shining under the lights. Had he put product in it? His thick waves looked especially good. “I checked out Yelp, and the pasta Bolognese is supposed to be great. You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

  “Are you kidding?” Mari shook her head. “I’m all for the humane treatment of animals and sustainable farming, but I think my abuela would have cried if I told her I wasn’t going to eat her homemade carne asada.”

  Jason smiled. “Did you spend a lot of time with your grandparents growing up?”

  Mari nodded. “Before we moved into my grandfather’s house, my parents and I lived in an apartment near Sea-bright Beach. We hung out with my grandparents every weekend, cooking together or going for rides on the boardwalk.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  Mari shook h
er head. “No. I’m an only child. Most people assume Mexican families are huge, but my mom and dad had me kind of young, and then they decided one kid was enough for them.”

  Jason smiled. “Hey, I’m an only child too! People always think we’re self-centered weirdos.”

  “Right?” Mari laughed. “We don’t know how to share and have no social skills.”

  “I have a confession to make,” Jason said in a whisper. “I used to play a game with the cars passing by. I would freeze whenever one went down my street, and then start moving again when it passed. I literally had no one to play with sometimes. And honestly, I’m an IT programmer; my social skills are questionable.”

  “I don’t know,” Mari said, warming to him. “I’d say you turned out all right.”

  The waiter returned to take their orders, and Jason chose a bottle of Shiraz. The wine was delicious, fruity and light. Mari felt herself laughing more with every sip, feeling lighter than she had in years.

  “Okay,” she said, grinning. “My turn for a confession. I used to pretend that I could talk to animals. Growing up, I had a cat named Sylvester, and I swore to my mom that we could communicate. I’d tell her that he wanted a cookie, trying to get an extra one for myself. So yeah, I guess I was kind of lonely too.”

  Jason laughed. “Here,” he said, offering her his plate of spaghetti Bolognese. “You have to try some of this.”

  Mari scooped a spoonful onto her plate and then pushed her pesto gnocchi toward him. “Nope. I made the better choice. This is delicious.”

  “Look at us sharing,” Jason said. “We’re not lost causes after all.”

  “Family style,” Mari said. She felt her neck warm and took a gulp of wine. It had already gone straight to her head.

  But Jason grinned back at her. “Tell me something else I don’t know.”

  “Well,” Mari said, taking another sip of wine. “Working at the Santa Cruz museum booth, I came across an article about a beauty queen who committed suicide. She was Miss California in 1940. Then she tried to become a Hollywood actress, but two months later, she returned to Santa Cruz and jumped off a cliff.”