Everything's Relative

by Jenna McCarthy

  Jules

  As Brooke steered the minivan carefully through the winding canyon roads, the silence in the car was starting to give Jules a migraine.

  “So, Billy, tell us about Alec,” she suggested, rubbing her temples.

  “Oh, right. Alec’s my son. He’s two and a half. He’s awesome,” Billy said.

  “Wow, that’s great,” Brooke said, a little too brightly. “So you’re divorced?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Billy said.

  “Anyway, Billy, you should tell Brooke about the letter,” Jules urged. Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t be prying the lid off a can of poisonous worms in front of her sister’s date, but George was an exception. He already knew everything. In fact, the ending of her manuscript currently had Brooke doing the happily-ever-after dance with Billy! How on earth could she have forgotten about inviting him to visit? She considered herself lucky that nobody was threatening to inflict serious bodily harm on her. She wasn’t sure she’d have been so gracious.

  “She doesn’t know?” Billy asked. Jules shook her head.

  “I got a letter from you—at least, I thought it was from you, I mean it said it was from you—telling me not to write to you or contact you ever again. No explanation. You said . . . I mean, Jules said she thinks . . .” He trailed off here, obviously not wanting to disparage their dead mother.

  “I never wrote that!” Brooke cried. “I don’t even understand. I wrote you dozens of letters, maybe hundreds! I gave them all to Mom and she mailed . . . Oh my gosh.” Disbelief washed over her face.

  “Mom must have written it,” Jules said softly. “And then she never sent any of your other letters.”

  “But why? Why would she do that?” Brooke demanded.

  “Maybe she couldn’t stand to see you having what she’d lost,” Shawn offered.

  “Or maybe she was afraid she was going to lose you, too,” Jules added, putting her hand gently on Brooke’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

  Everyone paused to consider this.

  “Or maybe she was just miserable,” Lexi added finally. “Misery loves company, right?”

  “I suppose,” Brooke said. “That could explain living the way she did, too.”

  “You mean like a welfare case? Hey, speaking of, does Billy know about the money?”

  “You’d have to ask Jules,” Brooke said sarcastically, giving her older sister a backward glance. Jules cringed.

  “I didn’t mention it yet,” Jules said.

  “Mention what?” Billy wanted to know.

  “Oh, just that our mom died filthy stinking rich—we had no idea she had a penny, by the way—and left us millions of dollars but made it so we couldn’t have any of it unless we could all meet these fucked-up conditions she came up with,” Lexi explained. “One of them was that Brooke had to be dating an upstanding guy. So you should feel honored. Jules obviously thought you fit the bill.”

  “For real?” Billy wanted to know. “Millions?”

  “It’s crazy, I know,” Brooke told him.

  “Go left on PCH,” Lexi said, looking at her phone. Las Virgenes had become Malibu Canyon Road, and they were approaching the spot where it dead-ended into the famed Pacific Coast Highway.

  “Anyway,” Brooke said. “We all had to do this stuff our mom insisted on in order to get her inheritance, and we’re almost there. Alexis was actually the first one to the finish line, believe it or not.”

  “I’ve always been an overachiever,” Lexi said, turning toward them with a grin. Jules was so relieved to see a smile on her sister’s face that she wanted to weep.

  “What do you have to do, Brooke?” Billy wanted to know.

  “Run a half-marathon,” Brooke said.

  “That’s really . . . weird,” Billy said.

  “I know. Mom was like that,” Brooke said.

  “And?” Billy asked.

  “It’s in three weeks. I’m ready. I’ve got this.” Brooke nodded for emphasis.

  “I had to get an actual job,” Lexi said. “I’m managing an ice cream shop now. I get benefits and everything.”

  “That’s great, Lexi,” Billy said sincerely.

  “ALEXIS,” the three girls shouted in unison.

  “Sorry,” Jules said. “That was another of her conditions—she has to go by Alexis now, all the time, forever. No more Lexi. And I had to write a book. That’s how we met George. He’s my agent.” The words still felt foreign in her mouth, but she loved the sound of them more than the Internet loved memes.

  “What’s your book about?” Billy asked politely. Everyone else cracked up.

  “This,” Jules shouted. “Us. Our crazy story. All of it.”

  “Am I in there?” Billy wanted to know.

  “You are now!” Jules said.

  “Cool,” Billy said. He looked genuinely pleased.

  They can be mad all they want, Jules thought smugly. Even if nothing comes of it, Billy was a great call on my part.

  Brooke

  Brooke knew she shouldn’t be this blissful at the moment, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like a million bucks, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with money. As wacky as this day was—as her whole existence had become, in fact—she hadn’t had this much fun in, well, ever. She had not one but two guys interested in her, and she’d managed to get into the best physical shape she’d been in since high school. Jules had a manuscript and an agent, and even though something was clearly going on with Lexi, Brooke had watched her morph into an entirely new person over the last few months. Surely whatever the current drama was, Lexi would get through it. She had Brooke and Jules now to help her. The thought jolted her back to the mystery mission at hand.

  “Are we getting close?” she asked Lexi. She was starting to get hungry and desperately needed to pee.

  “Yup,” Lexi said, studying her phone. Brooke waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.

  “Anyone else have to go to the bathroom?” she asked. She peered into the rearview mirror, where several hands shot up.

  “Can I pull into that Starbucks?” she asked Lexi, pointing to a shopping center on her right.

  “If the alternative is pissing yourself, I guess we have no choice,” Lexi huffed.

  There was a parking space right up front and Brooke eased into it, between a gigantic Cadillac Escalade and an even bigger Chevy Suburban. They looked like they could eat her Kia for lunch. It must cost more than a hundred dollars to fill those tanks, Brooke mused, wondering if she’d ever be able to stop having thoughts like that when she was rich. When she was rich!

  “Coming in or should I leave it running?” she asked Lexi.

  “If you leave the keys with me, I guarantee you this car won’t be here when you get back,” Lexi insisted.

  “Fair enough,” Brooke said, killing the engine. “Want anything, then?”

  “You’re actually going to order something?” Lexi asked.

  “I could use a coffee,” Jules said, rescuing her. “I’ll wait in line while Brooke goes to the bathroom.”

  “Fine,” Lexi said. “Get me a vanilla latte.”

  “Vanilla?” Brooke asked, surprised. Lexi ignored her.

  “I’d love a pumpkin spice latte,” Billy added from the backseat.

  “There’s really such a thing?” Shawn asked.

  “Yeah, it’s seasonal, though,” Billy explained. “They only have them around the holidays. They’re amazing. They really taste like actual—”

  “ARE YOU PEOPLE KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?” Lexi shouted. Billy blushed furiously.

  “Sorry, Lexi.”

  “ALEXIS!” the three sisters bellowed again. Billy’s face was bordering on purple.

  “Right, Alexis, sorry. We’ll hurry.” Billy scrambled out the side door; Jules and Shawn crawled out after him. Brooke g
lanced back at George.

  “George? Get you anything?” Brooke asked.

  “Seeing as I need Alexis’s enthusiastic blessing to be dating you, I think I’m good,” George said with a smile. “But I think I’ll use the restroom, too.” Brooke felt her cheeks burning as he followed her into Starbucks, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. Life sure is crazy sometimes, she thought. Crazy, but good.

  Lexi

  “Take a right on Webb,” Lexi instructed Brooke. “Then an immediate right onto Malibu Road. Holy shit, you guys. He’s actually on Malibu Road.”

  “Who is?” Brooke asked.

  “Really?” Jules asked. “You don’t know what we’re doing, Brooke? We’re looking for Rob. Obviously.”

  Lexi ignored her, too busy gaping at the mansions all around her. They were cruising along the exclusive frontage road in Malibu, the one that housed only a handful of homes, all of them sitting smack on the ocean’s edge. Lexi couldn’t even begin to hazard a guess as to what these homes might cost. Three million? Thirty? She had no earthly idea.

  “That’s it, the gray and mirrored one,” she whispered. Brooke’s eyes bugged out of her head. Shawn let out a whistle. Billy and George exchanged looks but said nothing.

  “Rob’s in there?” Brooke asked with disbelief. She was idling in the bike lane just before the driveway.

  Lexi held up her phone so Brooke could see the Find My Friends app. A little red pin said ROB COOPER on the spot right where they were sitting.

  Brooke pulled into the circular drive. It was lined with fancy cars—a Rolls-Royce and a Bentley and two Range Rovers—plus Frank’s truck. Bingo. Lexi thought the house itself was awful—a giant gray cement frame with a million mirrored windows on every side. If she had three or thirty million bucks, she’d bet at least half of them that she could find a better-looking house than this one, but to each his own she supposed.

  “Now what?” Brooke asked. “Should I shut off the car? Are you getting out? Are you going in?”

  Lexi tried to ignore the pounding in her chest.

  “I’m just going to go up and say hello,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt.

  “Whose house is this?” Jules asked.

  “No idea,” Lexi admitted.

  “I’m coming with you,” Jules said.

  “Me, too,” Brooke said.

  “Can I come?” George asked. “I really don’t want to miss this.”

  “I guess I should come, too,” Shawn said.

  “You can all come; I don’t give a shit,” Lexi said. She got out of the car and slammed the door extra hard for good measure before stomping up to the front door, her entourage hot on her heels.

  Lexi banged her fist on the giant metal door three times as hard as she could. Her hand stung from the blows.

  “Or you could ring the doorbell,” Jules said, depressing the button, setting off what sounded like a goddamned symphony to Lexi.

  A man in a black suit opened the door, presumably a butler. Lexi sucked in her breath. All of those mirrors might be god-awful looking from the outside, but inside was a different story entirely. She could see straight through the white-on-white floor-to-ceiling marble-and-chrome house straight to the ocean. There were a handful of people mingling on a back deck, but she’d bet they couldn’t see in—and why would they want to? The view was the other way. Everywhere she turned, in every direction from every angle, there was nothing but sand and sky and ocean. It was breathtaking.

  “May I help you?” asked the butler. Until this moment, Lexi had thought butlers were just a made-up thing on TV—like Smurfs or unicorns. She didn’t know they actually existed in the world.

  “Sure thing, Jeeves,” Lexi said, dusting off her nearly forgotten tough-chick persona. “I’m looking for a guy named Robert Cooper. He’s a cop. Tall, dark, handsome; you know the drill. Ring any bells?” If the butler was taken aback by her brazenness, he had one of the best poker faces Lexi had ever seen.

  “May I ask who’s calling?” He took in the whole group when he asked this.

  “Just some friends,” Lexi said. “It’s sort of a surprise.”

  “As you wish,” he said with a subtle bow. “You may wait in here.” Their footsteps echoed around the cavernous foyer as the motley crew filed their way in. There were white tufted-leather ottoman-style benches along the stark white walls. The benches didn’t look like they’d ever been sat on, and no one sat on them now.

  Lexi saw feet beginning to descend a massive iron spiral staircase and looked up. Her eyes locked with Rob’s.

  “Alexis!” he called out. Lexi was taken aback; he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. She smiled evenly but said nothing. “What are you doing here? I mean, how did you find me?” His own smile fell when he said this, and Lexi knew he realized he was busted. He paused midway down the stairs.

  “Hey, Jules, Brooke, Shawn,” he said, lifting a shy hand in greeting. “And, I’m sorry, I don’t believe I’ve met your friends.”

  “George Kaplan,” George said, lifting his own hand as if he were expecting to be called on.

  “Billy McCann,” Billy said. He mimicked George’s hand gesture.

  “Nice to meet you guys,” Rob said with a nod. “Robert Cooper.” He continued down the stairs.

  “Catching anything good?” Lexi asked, folding her arms over her chest. She had no interest in watching the guys strike up a bromance right now. She was here to make a point and get out. Period.

  “Huh?” Rob said. He looked confused and guilty, as he should, thought Lexi.

  “You told me you were going fishing with some buddies in Catalina,” she spat, her voice rising. “You fucking lied to me, Rob. And I know why you did, too. Because you were too embarrassed to invite your second-class girlfriend into your richy-rich world. Who’d blame you? Look at this place. I’m guessing your friends aren’t entertaining a lot of poor white trash like me on a regular basis.” Her voice had risen to an uncomfortable pitch, and she couldn’t possibly care less.

  “Alexis, please,” Rob said. He was standing in front of her now and he reached for her, and when he did she smacked his hands away. People were beginning to trickle into the room from the back patio, but Lexi was on fire and blinded by indignation. She didn’t care who saw this.

  “Don’t touch me; you might get some of my nasty street-girl germs on you,” she hissed at Rob.

  Jules tried to put her arm around Lexi, but she brushed that off, too.

  “Alexis, you’ve got it all wrong,” Rob said sternly.

  “Do I, Rob? Really? I don’t think I do,” Lexi fumed. “Tell me one good reason why you lied to me about where you were going, and one good reason why you didn’t invite me here with you. Did you meet a newer, better whore? Is that it? Is she here?” She looked around wildly, scanning the strange faces for her replacement. When she did, she spotted Frank and Benji and Susie. Great. Now she was out of a job and a boyfriend. So much for her inheritance.

  “I’m the reason.” The crowd parted and a man in a wheelchair rolled through the gap, coming to a stop directly in front of her. He looked too healthy to be in a wheelchair and too much like Rob for her comfort.

  “I’m Robert Maxwell Cooper,” the man said, holding out his hand. “Rob’s father. Most people know me as Robert Maxwell. Yes, that Robert Maxwell.” Lexi shook his surprisingly strong, tan hand reluctantly.

  “The artist?” Jules asked from somewhere behind Lexi, and then it clicked. The name wouldn’t have even rung a faint bell before she’d moved in with Jules, but now she knew exactly who he was: Robert Maxwell was the J. D. Salinger of the modern-day art world, a brilliant but reclusive painter whose work hung in galleries around the world and who was rarely, if ever, seen in public. Jules had read a book about him and been so intrigued she’d gone out and bought one of his prints. It was hanging in her bathroom, and one day L
exi had made the mistake of asking about it. Jules had gone on and on about the guy, and Lexi hadn’t even bothered to pretend to be interested. But his work was phenomenal; that much she knew.

  “Yeah, there was another Robert Cooper churning out some lousy shit back when I was just getting started,” Rob’s father explained with a good-natured grin. “I took to going by Maxwell, even though I was way better than that sonofabitch. Asshole drank himself to death at thirty-eight, too, so I could have been Cooper all along.” He chuckled softly at this and winked at Lexi. “But then again, going by Maxwell helps with the whole douchebag-recluse thing.”

  Lexi couldn’t help it; she smiled.

  “So now you’ve met Pop, the famously eloquent Robert Maxwell,” Rob interjected, blushing.

  “But I don’t get it,” Lexi said, looking back and forth from father to son before settling her gaze on Rob. “Why are you here? Why did you lie to me?”

  “You might have noticed that Pop is a little feisty,” Rob said. His dad snorted proudly. “He’s only got a handful of people he likes to have around, and I came down here to tell him about you and try to convince him to add you to the list. I’ve been talking about you for two days straight. Ask him. Really.”