She was flipping through her phone, looking for a distraction and trying to block out the happy holiday chatter in the next room, when she saw it: Find My Friends. When Rob had told her that he wanted to install the app on her phone, she had been insulted and angered.
“Why don’t you just put one of those tracker thingies on my ankle like parolees wear, huh?” she’d scoffed.
“It’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s because I care about you, Alexis,” he’d insisted. “You’re a beautiful woman, and I’ve seen some unholy things happen to beautiful women. I’ll just feel better if I know I can find you if I need to. Do it for me, please?”
She’d hemmed and hawed and finally acquiesced, but only on the condition that she had the same ability to track him.
“So you can come rescue me if some gangbangers kidnap me?” he’d laughed.
“Something like that,” she’d replied.
Now she clicked on the app. Rob Cooper’s was the only phone she’d registered, and she clicked on his name. A map popped up instantly.
Malibu. Rob was in Malibu.
He’d lied to her. She’d known he was lying even as the words were coming out of his mouth—years of living on the streets had honed her instincts to a fine point—but seeing the proof in her hand was like a blow. What was he doing in Malibu? Did he have another girlfriend there? Wait. His parents were divorced, and they both lived in Malibu. His mom was remarried with a new family that Rob didn’t seem to care for, and he’d never said much of anything about his dad, now that she thought about it. Would he have gone to see one of them? It was a holiday after all. But if he had, why would he lie about it?
Oh.
In a painful flash it was all starting to make sense. Malibu was the home of the richest of the rich, business tycoons and billionaires and mega-celebrities like Mel Gibson and Goldie Hawn and Robert Redford. Obviously, Rob’s parents were loaded—at least one of them, probably his father, Lexi thought; hence the radio silence—and even more obviously, Rob was embarrassed of his poor, working-class girlfriend and her highly questionable past. Even though Rob was a cop, or maybe because of it, they probably wanted him to hook up with some blue blood, or at least the daughter of one of their famous neighbors.
Lexi wondered briefly if she was being ridiculous. Surely there were some blue-collar types in Malibu, fast-food fry guys and grocery store checkout girls and the folks who worked at the quaint little newsstand down by the beach. His parents could be those, couldn’t they? But no, she realized. Those people schlepped in from the Valley; they didn’t live in Malibu. Obviously, he was ashamed of her.
I’m going to be rich soon, too, she shouted at him in her head, but she knew that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t about money; it was bigger than that. Money couldn’t buy class, everyone knew it. Even if she already had her millions, she wouldn’t be good enough for him. She was street trash; an embarrassment.
Well, fuck him. If that was how he felt, she’d give him something to be ashamed of.
Jules
Jules had gotten up before the crack of dawn to start slicing and dicing and mixing all manner of decadent, once-a-year treats. Brooke was by her side, breaking away only for her obligatory run and to clean up afterward. Now the sweet and savory smells of Thanksgiving filled the house, and Jules’s mouth was already beginning to water. George had arrived bearing flowers and wine and a scrumptious-looking pumpkin pie from Hygge Bakery in L.A., and he and Shawn were chatting amiably, some football game or other on mute in the background. A fire crackled in the small fireplace and Jules’s iPad was playing a festive holiday soundtrack. The two couples were dressed in holiday-appropriate style, and Jules was positive she’d never seen Brooke look lovelier. The day would have been bordering on perfect—if it hadn’t been for Lexi.
Jules had made several attempts to coerce her out of the office, but Lexi had deflected each one with increasing animosity. Should she try to force her to join them for supper? Jules was pretty sure that would backfire miserably, but how could she enjoy her own meal knowing her sister was locked up in a desolate prison of her own making?
“Everything smells amazing,” George was saying. Jules had worried that her impulsive invitation had been a mistake; he and Brooke barely knew each other, and she wasn’t exactly versed in the proper ways to act around your agent. She and Brooke had discussed it and agreed that since George had had an exclusive peek into the most private and sacred parts of their lives, putting on any sort of airs would be a futile exercise. He liked them both; that much was evident. They were what they were and he was there anyway. It’s a Thanksgiving miracle, Jules thought wryly.
“Thanks, George,” she said now, topping off his wineglass. She settled on the couch next to Shawn.
“Do you think Alexis is going to eat with us?” Brooke wondered aloud. She had put the two extra leaves into the kitchen table and was setting it with their parents’ wedding china.
“Set her a place,” Jules said. “I’ll try her one more time when we’re ready to sit down.”
Just then, Lexi came bursting out of the office. She was wearing the yoga pants she’d been wearing for days on end and a thin white T-shirt. At least she was wearing a bra, Jules was relieved to note.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Alexis!” Shawn said brightly. Jules stood.
“Alexis, this is George Kaplan, my literary agent and Brooke’s . . . friend.” Jules tried not to grin like an idiot when she said the “literary agent” part.
George stood and extended his hand.
“Wonderful to meet you, Alexis,” he said, smiling broadly.
“Pleasure,” Lexi said, brushing him off and turning to Jules. “I need to borrow your car.”
“Where are you going?” Jules asked.
“Out,” Lexi said. “Can I have your keys? Please.” Her eyes were wild, and a wave of worry washed over Jules. Was she doing drugs again? Or about to?
“You’re not on our insurance—” Jules started, but Lexi cut her off.
“Spare me the liability lecture,” Lexi huffed. She turned to her other sister. “Brooke? Can I take your minivan?”
“I need to know where you’re going,” Brooke said. Jules was surprised at how forceful she sounded.
“For fuck’s sake, Brooke, please.” Lexi looked desperate.
“Alexis, it’s Thanksgiving,” Jules pleaded. “Nothing is open except the grocery store. Can’t it wait?”
“No, it can’t,” Lexi insisted. “Brooke?”
“You can’t take my car,” Brooke answered, “but I’ll drive you wherever it is you so urgently need to go.” She looked at George apologetically. He nodded, signaling, It’s okay. Do what you have to do.
“Well, then I’m going, too,” Jules said. Lexi rolled her eyes.
“You three are not going anywhere without me,” Shawn said. “Not after the TV debacle.”
“Jesus Christ, you guys, please just let me do this alone,” Lexi fumed.
“Nope,” Brooke said.
“Not a chance,” Jules said.
“I’m with them,” Shawn said.
“Fuck it, fine, then let’s go,” Lexi said with a dramatic growl. “But everyone shuts the fuck up and no questions, okay? I mean it.”
Jules cringed; she couldn’t believe this was happening at all, let alone in front of her literary agent.
“Are we going to get into any trouble?” Brooke asked timidly. Jules waited for Lexi to jump down her throat for ignoring the no-questions command, but apparently Lexi had no time for such trivialities.
“I hope not,” Lexi said.
“I’ll get my keys,” Brooke sighed.
“I guess I’ll turn the oven off,” Jules said, hoping this little diversion wouldn’t ruin the meal she’d been working on for three days. “Will we be back for dinner?”
“Can’t really say,�
�� Lexi said impatiently.
“I get to come, too, right?” George asked.
Brooke shrugged. “If you want to,” she said, turning pink. “That would be great. I mean, I think.”
“This is fucking perfect,” Lexi said, shaking her head before storming out the front door toward Brooke’s powder-blue minivan. Jules waited until everyone else had followed her and then locked the door, wondering where in the hell this spontaneous mystery journey was going to take them.
Brooke
Well, this isn’t exactly the most ideal first date, Brooke thought as she swiped some lip gloss across her lips. But what was she going to do? Thanks to Jules and her manuscript, George already knew all about her crazy family. If he wasn’t scared off before today, this wouldn’t necessarily be a deal breaker. Of course, she had no idea where they were going or why, so she thought she probably shouldn’t go making any overly optimistic predictions, especially since Lexi was at the helm of this ship.
“Everyone buckled up?” Brooke asked after she fired up the engine. Lexi had taken the front seat—of course—and Jules, George and Shawn sat in the middle row.
“Yes, Mom,” Lexi said with forced patience. “Any day now.”
“Which way am I going?” Brooke asked as she put the minivan into reverse.
“North on the 101,” Lexi said. Brooke glanced at her nervously. She hadn’t planned on a road trip. She hadn’t even brought a bottled water or any almonds, and she’d run twelve miles this morning. She hoped Lexi would at least let them stop for some snacks. She had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
As she started backing up, a taxi pulled up directly behind her Kia and stopped, completely blocking her path.
“What are you doing?” Lexi shouted at her.
“There’s a cab behind me, Alexis,” Brooke said, summoning her patience. Lexi reached for her door handle but Brooke grabbed her arm.
“I’ve got this,” she said. The last thing she needed was Lexi getting into a fistfight in their driveway. She put the minivan back into park and got out.
“Excuse me?” she called to the taxi driver. He was talking to a man by the trunk. “Um, you’re sort of blocking my—” Brooke stopped cold. The taxi driver wasn’t talking to a man. He was talking to Billy McCann.
“Brooke!” Billy shouted. “Hey!” He was ruggedly handsome in jeans and a button-up shirt, and her heart began pounding in her chest. He had a suitcase in his hand and the world’s biggest grin was plastered all over his face. The cab pulled away behind him.
“Billy?” Brooke said. He set the suitcase down and began running toward her, as if he were going to tackle her. She didn’t know what else to do, so she closed her eyes and braced herself. Then his arms were around her and he had picked her up and was spinning her around, and either a brain aneurism was exploding in her head or someone was laying on a car’s horn.
“Brooke, what the fuck?” It was Lexi, who’d gotten out of the minivan and was oblivious to the unfolding Billy situation. “We have to go!” Brooke looked back and forth from her sister to Billy.
“Billy McCann?” Lexi asked.
“Billy!” shouted Jules, who had jumped out of the Kia. “It’s so great to see you! Wow. You look great. Really great. Doesn’t he look great, you guys?” By this point, Shawn and George had gotten out of the car, too. Shawn looked confused, George amused.
“He does, you do,” Brooke said, turning to Billy. “But . . . what are you doing here?”
Billy’s smile fell. “You invited me. I mean, I thought you invited me. Didn’t you invite me?”
“I’m serious, you guys,” Lexi interrupted. “We have to go, like, now. Can we please enjoy this little high school reunion in the car? You two will have plenty of time to catch up.” She stalked back to the minivan, got in the passenger seat and slammed the door. Jules slunk away after her, dragging Shawn with her.
Brooke smiled nervously. “Um, Billy, this is my friend George Kaplan. George, this is Billy McCann, my . . . high school boyfriend.” The two men shook hands uncertainly. “I guess we’re going for a drive,” Brooke told Billy.
“Oh, okay, sure,” Billy replied with a bewildered shrug.
“This just keeps getting better and better,” George mused. They shuffled back to the Kia. Shawn had crawled into the far back—where Brooke would very much like to be right now, except she had to drive—and now it was Jules, George and Billy in the middle row.
Brooke was very busy concentrating on driving, so Jules spoke first. “Brooke, I sort of have a confession,” she said. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror; Jules was cowering in her seat.
“Okay,” Brooke said, drawing out the word. “Shoot.”
“I invited Billy to visit,” she said, turning to Billy. “That was me. On Facebook. Pretending to be Brooke. The whole time. She didn’t know anything about it. I was going to tell her and then, well, the past few weeks have been crazy—actually, the past year has been crazy—and I completely forgot. I’m so, so sorry to you both. Really. Like, beyond sorry.”
“Wait, you pretended to be me?” Brooke said, aghast.
“Well, in my defense, you were pretending to be me when you met George, so we’re sort of even,” Jules said.
“She has a point,” George agreed.
“This is awesome,” Lexi chimed in. Brooke looked at her sister in disbelief; Lexi was smirking. It was the first time Brooke had seen her look anything close to happy in weeks, so she reluctantly let it go.
“So, Brooke,” Billy said, struggling to piece the puzzle together. “You didn’t want me to come?”
“Razor sharp there, Billy, razor sharp,” Lexi muttered.
Brooke could see his face in the mirror and he looked crushed. She felt awful.
“I didn’t not want you to come, I just didn’t know about it!” she insisted.
“And your friend here,” Billy said, pointing to George. “Is he a friend-friend or more than a friend?”
Brooke felt the blood rushing up her neck to her face in a fast-paced fury. What could she say?
“More than a friend, if I have a say in the matter,” George replied for her. “Sorry, buddy.”
An awkward silence filled the car.
“Get in the right lane,” Lexi instructed. “You’re going to get off at Las Virgenes.”
“Where are we going?” Brooke asked.
“Malibu,” Lexi told her.
“What’s in Malibu?” Brooke asked.
“That’s exactly what we’re going to find out,” Lexi said.
Brooke didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
Lexi
Lexi looked out the passenger window, oblivious to both the beauty of the canyon and the tension in the car. Her stomach was churning, a discomfort that still didn’t distract from the ache in her heart. She was losing Rob, had probably already lost him. Is this how Juliana had felt when her husband dropped dead? For the first time that she could recall, Lexi was overwhelmed with something that could only be described as compassion for her mother. She’d always thought of her dad’s death as something that had happened to her and her sisters; Juliana could go out and get another husband, after all, but they only had one father. Now she realized that just like her, Juliana had lost something she loved deeply and wholly, something she probably never would have let herself imagine living without, because even the fleeting hypothetical thought would be excruciating. Lexi had been too young to fully grasp the enormity of forever the first time it sucker-punched her, but now she understood on a visceral level. Her head spun with a mixture of her own grief mingling with a newfound sympathy for her mother, the whole mess wrapped in a web of regret and sorrow.
Stop it, she chided, angry at herself. Don’t feel sorry for her. Shitty things happen in life. She had a choice, and she chose to push you away. You can forgive her, but don’t ever forge
t that.
“So, uh, where are we headed?” Billy asked tentatively. His words slicing through her thoughts were a welcome distraction.
“It’s sort of a surprise,” Jules responded. “For all of us. Only Alexis knows. And we’re not allowed to ask any questions. It’s . . . complicated.”
“You can say that again,” Brooke said with a grimace.
“I would have been more than happy to come by myself,” Lexi said, but it was a knee-jerk reaction, a lie. The uncomfortable truth was, she was glad that she wasn’t alone. She hated to admit it even to herself, but these past few months at Jules’s house had been some of the happiest of her life, a truth she hadn’t even recognized until this minute. She was almost compelled to say something, to thank them maybe, or just acknowledge their being there with her and for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wanted to blame Juliana for this—that had always been her default, after all—but Jules and Brooke hadn’t shut down the way she did under the same circumstances, so the problem must be her.
Lexi thought now about the aftermath of that tragic fork in the path of their lives: how Jules had jumped in and taken over the parenting when their mom checked out, and how Brooke had taken up running with a near vengeance. And what had she done? Gone in the polar opposite direction, deciding that she didn’t need anyone or anything but herself. The root of all three reactions, she could see now, was a need for some sense of control. Juliana had wanted the exact same thing that they all did: to create an illusion of power where none actually existed. And in her own weird Juliana way, she’d managed to give Lexi the greatest gift she could imagine, one she hadn’t even known how desperately she wanted or needed: her sisters back in her life. If nothing else, Lexi had Jules and Brooke, which was more than she’d had for most of her life. She might be about to cost them their inheritance—Rob was her connection to Benji, after all, and without Benji she had no job—but they would forgive her, and they would continue to love her. It was a mind-blowing thought, and just the one that would give her the courage and the strength to do what she was about to do. She didn’t need Rob to prove she was lovable; she didn’t need Rob for anything. Unwittingly, the Gloria Gaynor song “I Will Survive” popped into her head, and she actually snorted. It was the cheesiest song ever written—except when her gay friends sang it; then it was epic—and she’d danced on countless bars over the years, belting out the lyrics only to mock them. But she wasn’t going to crumble or lay down and die, at least not for Rob to see. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She would survive, damn it. She might not be good at a lot of things, but that she’d mastered.
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