"Go get the orange juice," Kyle grumbled at him, then he turned to Hallie. "Are you sure you're not too sore after yesterday? You can always skip work."
"Yeah," Chris said. "You've got an in with the boss." Kyle glowered, and Chris jumped up to get the juice from the fridge.
"Do you want to skip work today? You said you were tired. I know Dr. Lil said you passed inspection, but it's not like you have to go right to work." There was that sheepish look again. "I guess I kept you up kind of late, talking."
"I'll live." What else could she say? It wasn't his fault he'd reminded her of things she'd rather not think about. She wondered what it would take to shake his confidence—he seemed to have no trouble shaking hers. She looked down at her hands in her lap, uncomfortable with those bright green eyes on her. Kyle turned back to the stove, and quickly dished up three plates.
"All right! Huevos rancheros!" Chris patted Hallie on the back. "You should visit more often. He never cooks like this for us." Chris poured juice into big glasses for each of them, then plopped back into his chair.
"You put onions in this," Chris said, looking at the plates.
"You got a problem with that, kid?"
"Nope." He grinned, and took a big bite out of his tortilla. "You know," he said, his mouth full, "I think the fog's gonna burn off today."
"Stranger things have been known to happen." Kyle set a plate in front of her: steaming-hot scrambled eggs with avocado, onions, tomatoes, and chile sauce, on a bed of tortillas and lettuce.
"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," she said.
"It's no big deal." He went back to the stove to heat another tortilla. "Besides, you had a rough day yesterday. I didn't want you to think we're always so hard on our guests."
"Really, man," agreed Chris. "We don't usually run guests into ditches—especially not when they're driving our own cars!" He laughed at his own joke.
Hallie looked up at Kyle. His back was turned, but she had a feeling he wasn't talking about the car accident.
He flipped the tortilla onto a plate, topped it with more eggs for himself, and then came and sat down with them.
"You know," Chris said, his expression serious for once, "about that accident. I was wondering if maybe we could call Windy—not that I'm worried or anything," he explained quickly, "but just to see how she's doing."
"I tried," Kyle said. "Her phone's turned off. Now before you get all worried again," he said when Hallie started to speak. "That's not surprising if she's either in the mission church, or out in the countryside somewhere looking up old grave sites. Either she turned it off out of respect for where she was, or she's out of reach of a cell tower and is saving the battery."
"Well," Hallie said reluctantly, "I guess."
"I know," Kyle said firmly. "There's nothing to worry about."
They all sat and stared at their plates for a minute.
All of yesterday's fears came back to Hallie all of a sudden, and she felt her body tense up again as an image of waking in the car, hurt and alone, flashed through her mind. "But what if there is something wrong?" she asked.
"Come on now," Kyle said. "Don't let Chris get you all riled up."
He glared at the boy, who started shoveling eggs into his mouth without another word.
She nodded. She thought back one more time to yesterday, trying, as she had repeatedly, to dredge up that missing memory, to think of something, anything, that filled in the gap between the last time she saw Windy and waking up in the Little Guy. She couldn't think of anything. "She was fine," she said aloud, after mentally retracing her steps. "She must have given me the keys to the Bug. She was happy. Nothing was wrong with her. She was just... Windy. You know?"
Chris chuckled. "We know what you mean. Good ole Guinevere Isabella Robles Madrigal. Giggle Girl."
She nodded her head absently, still thinking.
Chris dug into his eggs again, apparently satisfied.
"There's nothing," she finally said, "not a thing I can think of that seems wrong—not until I woke up in the car."
"It's like a jigsaw puzzle with one big piece missing," Kyle said. "Unless we can find the truck with the gray primer paint that hit the Beetle, we can't know what really happened."
"Maybe the sheriff was right," she said. "Maybe it was just an accident." She wasn't sure what to believe anymore.
"Right," Kyle said. "So let's all relax and finish our breakfast."
"Okay." Chris's smile resurfaced. He seemed satisfied. "And maybe we can get the Bug fixed before Windy gets back. I'll get off work at noon and come home to help you."
Kyle chuckled. "That'll be a first."
They all went back to eating. The mood had lightened, as if saying all of their worries out loud had cleared the air.
"Yup," Chris said. "We'll just get the car fixed up like new, and maybe, just maybe, Windy won't kill you when she gets back." He grinned at Hallie.
"Thanks a lot."
"Don't mention it. Just another part of the famous Madrigal hospitality."
Hallie wasn't sure how much more of the "famous Madrigal hospitality" she could handle.
A half hour later Kyle's red pickup turned onto the road leading to the amusement park. The truck passed under an arch that read "Pajaro Bay Amusement Park: Your Fun in the Sun."
"Fun in the Fog, more like it," Chris cracked, but Hallie felt a shiver of anticipation as Kyle's truck threaded a line between two of the roller coaster's red-and-white support towers. She looked up through the windshield as they drove under and saw that the towers rose up to disappear in the gray mist above them like a mountaintop lost in the clouds.
Kyle turned left and went through the gate marked Employees Only. He parked next to a two-story, blue-and-white striped building, and they got out. This was definitely better than frying burgers in Davis all summer. Delivery trucks were parked in a line along the back of a row of candy-colored buildings. Delivery people hurried past them in the mist, carrying everything from cases of soda and corn dogs to clear plastic bags full of dozens of rainbow-colored teddy bears.
Chris waved to someone in a dolphin costume talking to a walrus chugging a grande cup of coffee.
"Kind of like looking behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz, isn't it?" Kyle said to Hallie with a smile. He took Hallie's staff vest and sun visor from where he had stashed them behind the seat of the truck, and tucked them under one arm. "Ready for the grand tour?"
She nodded.
"You sure you remember where everything is?" Chris asked. "Or do you need me to help you find your way?"
"We'll fire off a signal flare if we get lost," Kyle said with a chuckle.
Chris waved goodbye and strode toward a door in the side of the striped building.
"Don't worry," Kyle said to Hallie as they headed, at a more leisurely pace, toward the same door, "I think I can find my way around."
"I'm sure you can," she said. "It's your park."
Kyle smiled ruefully. "I've only been here twice since the kids started working here—and that's only because Windy and Zac have been on my case about it. They think if we fix the place up it could be a gold mine." Kyle glanced up. Hallie saw that a yellow light glowed from some windows on the second floor of the building.
"The lights are on upstairs—let's see if anybody's home," he said. He opened the door for her and they went inside.
Inside Hallie found they were in a long, narrow hallway, the drab gray on its walls in sharp contrast to the bright colors outside. There was one closed door at the end of the hall, but Kyle led her up some stairs to the left.
At the top of the stairs they stopped in front of a rack of timecards. "I almost forgot," Kyle said. "Let's see." He ran his finger up the rack of cards. "Rogers, Rodriguez, Robles—here we go, 'Reed, Hallie'. It looks like you're all set." He handed her the card.
"That's Windy's doing," Hallie said. "She called the office and made me give my social security number and employment info to someone named Eva Freitas—"<
br />
"—Yeah, she does the payroll."
"Windy wasn't giving me any chance to back out of coming here."
"I bet you regret that," Kyle said.
"Regret it?" Hallie looked up into his eyes.
"After the car crash and all," he said softly. "You probably wish you'd stayed in Davis and worked there this summer." He put one hand on her shoulder. "Of course we're glad you came, in spite of everything."
"I'm glad too." She put one hand up on his chest, like she had the first time she'd met him (was it only yesterday afternoon? she thought with a shock; it seemed like so long ago). The flannel shirt he wore was soft, but the muscles beneath were hard. She could feel his heartbeat under her palm, steady and true.
She lifted her other hand, and realized she held her timecard in it. She backed a pace away from him, getting a little more distance so she could think straight. "Um," she said, holding up the timecard, "what do I do with this?"
He dropped his hand from her shoulder. "Um," he said softly. He seemed to have to think for a moment. "It goes in here." He pointed to the time clock next to the rack of cards.
She stuck the card in until the machine clicked.
"I guess that makes you official," Kyle said.
Hallie pulled her timecard out of the machine. "9:07 a.m.," the machine had printed on the card.
"Now you're just another working stiff."
Hallie put her card into the rack on the wall that held all the other employee cards—over a hundred of them, she guessed. She turned to Kyle. "What now?"
He seemed to hesitate for a second, then said, "Let me introduce you to somebody. This way." He led her down the hall to an open doorway.
They entered a small office, which Hallie saw was cluttered not only with papers, but all kinds of strange junk, including, jammed between two overstuffed file cabinets, a life-size mechanical gorilla with one arm missing.
"Hi, Tom," Kyle said to the man seated behind the desk. Hallie felt a shiver down her spine. Something about Kyle's voice triggered a bad memory—there was an edge to it that Hallie couldn't pin down.
Tom jumped in his chair—apparently she wasn't the only one who felt the tension in the room. "Hi there, Kyle," he said with a kind of forced cheerfulness. At the same time as Tom spoke Hallie saw him shove something into a desk drawer, and she heard the swish of liquid in a bottle. He wiped his mouth nervously, smoothed down his salt-and-pepper hair with one hand, and picked up a coffee cup from the desk. "Just having my morning coffee," he explained a little too hastily.
"Irish coffee?" Kyle asked with raised eyebrows. "Never mind," he added quickly. "I want to introduce you to a friend. Hallie Reed, Tom Robles."
Tom stood up and reached across the desk to shake her hand.
"Robles?" Hallie asked as she took his hand. "That's Windy's middle name, isn't it?"
"Tom's our mother's brother," Kyle explained.
"I'm the black sheep of the family," Tom added with a wan smile. "Every family needs one."
Kyle didn't laugh. "Hallie's Windy's friend—the one who's going to be working here this summer."
Tom looked at him blankly, and shrugged his shoulders. "Eva handles all that stuff," he said.
"Yeah," Kyle said. "I guess she does." There was an awkward silence. "Do you know where Hallie's scheduled to work today?"
Tom pointed to a chart on the wall. "Must be there somewhere."
Kyle scanned the chart, then whistled softly. She looked at where he pointed. Amid the sea of names she saw "Reed—BC."
"What's BC mean?" she asked.
"Boardwalk Cottage," Kyle said with a smile. "You're not a scaredy-cat, are you?"
"Boardwalk Cottage? That sounds cute, not scary."
"I'll take you there in a minute." His smile told her the tension wasn't toward her. Nevertheless, she could see how tightly strung his body was, and she took a step away from him.
Kyle turned back to Tom. "How're those figures coming along?" he asked casually.
"Figures?" Tom sat back down at the desk and began shuffling through the mess of papers.
"For the proposal Zac made? About buying a computer to run the coaster like they have at the big parks? He said we could run three trains at once, and make back our outlay in a year, and you said you'd get back to me about it last week, remember?"
"I remember, I remember," Tom said defensively. "I've just been kinda busy, with the summer crowds starting."
Kyle sighed. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. I want to see a proposal for updating the system."
"But I'll have to stay all night to get that done." Tom drummed his fingers on the desktop, looking a lot like Chris. "You were never interested before."
"Well I am now," Kyle said coldly. "Get the books in order."
Hallie and Kyle walked down the stairs in silence. Back on the first floor, he led her through the door at the end of the hall. He flipped a switch and overhead lights came on.
Hallie saw that the room was completely filled by a huge carousel. "Oh, how pretty!" she said, distracted from Kyle's uncharacteristic moodiness.
She couldn't resist. Even fake horses molded in a factory were a reminder of the breathtaking beauty of the real thing. She walked around the edge of the carousel, lost in thoughts of prancing thoroughbreds and summer horseback rides. She reached out toward the nearest horse.
She heard him chuckle behind her. "I knew you'd like this."
"I'm sorry," she said. She shoved her scarred hands into her jeans pockets. She was acting like a dumb kid.
"Don't be sorry," he said.
She stood there, feeling awkward. "David always said I acted like an idiot over anything pretty."
"David?"
"My ex-husband. He thought my love of animals was stupid."
"Of course he did."
She looked up. He was smiling gently at her. "David Cooper obviously couldn't see beauty when it was right in front of him." He gestured toward the carousel. "Go ahead and look around."
She walked around the carousel, her self-consciousness easing when she saw that he really wasn't making fun of her. She ran her fingers over the prancing ponies with their vividly colored trappings.
"See, the room opens up," Kyle said, pointing to two of the walls. "The walls are steel doors that open onto the promenade outside, so people can line up for the ride."
He jumped up onto the platform, and walked restlessly back and forth between the horses. She sat down on the edge of the platform and watched him. He still had that unsettled look about him that she'd noticed since they'd arrived at the park.
He turned away to run his hands over one of the horses. "Ouch," he muttered. He brought his finger up to his mouth. "There's a crack in the finish," he explained. "Some little kid could get cut on that. This place is falling apart." He noticed her eyes on him and turned away again.
"It's my fault," he said to the gray mare with chipped paint. "My grandparents, and then my parents, used to remodel the place regularly. They were always keeping up with the latest things, updating every winter for the next season. I've let the place go downhill." He ran a finger over the pony's mane.
Hallie leaned back against one of the brass poles, and watched him.
"Tom's right," he said after a while. "I've stayed away. The kids don't remember, but I can't help remembering."
"After dad and mom died the park was closed for a while," he said, half to himself. "I had the kids to deal with, and settling the estate, and then Jennifer went back to her family in Stockton."
"Jennifer?"
"My college girlfriend." He glanced quickly at her, then away again. "Oh, I don't blame her. I was impossible to live with in those days. My life had been turned around, and I felt I was being kept from—"
"Your mission in life?" She said it with a smile. "Being a doctor," she added, and he nodded.
"Yeah. My mom was a doctor—did Windy tell you that?"
Hallie shook her head.
"Well, anyway, it all got
to be too much. I don't know, I just couldn't make myself come down here and look at the place. But one day a real estate agent came to me with an offer from a developer."
This was a different side of him than Hallie had seen before. He seemed lost, and vulnerable. "And you said no to the sale," she prompted when he didn't continue.
He smiled. "He was going to build an oceanfront housing development on the site, called 'Rancho Madrigal Estates' or some garbage like that."
He looked around. "I just couldn't see everything my family had worked for turned into a bunch of condos. So I called up Tom—he'd managed the place when my parents were alive—and asked him to come back and supervise the rebuilding."
"But you never came to look at it?"
"I couldn't," he said softly. "Cowardly, eh?" he added with a wan smile.
"I'm not one to talk about cowardice," she said bitterly.
He held out his hand to her. She took it, and in one effortless motion he lifted her up to stand on the platform beside him. "You look pretty brave to me," he murmured.
"Is this one of the new rides put in after the fire?" she asked, to change the subject. He nodded, and turned away again.
"Nowadays," he said, "all these rides are made in factories out of aluminum, fiberglass, plastic—but not back in the old days." The sweep of his hand took in the whole building. "The rides, the buildings, even the plank walkways underfoot—remember the old-style boardwalks?—everything was made of wood." He sighed. "When the fire started, it was over in minutes. The place went up like a torch."
Hallie saw sorrow in his eyes.
Instinctively, she put a hand up to cradle his cheek. Somehow, when he was so lost and vulnerable, she was able to reach out to him without being afraid. She noticed how the skin on his face was brown and toughened by years of working outdoors. Around his eyes were fine lines that on someone else she would assume were caused by too many years squinting in the wind and sun, but on Kyle could only be laugh-lines.
Wait a minute, she thought. What was she doing? She was as bad as David said she was. She was being a romantic dreamer, getting carried away by a momentary attraction. What happened to her plans to be sensible?
Boardwalk Cottage Page 6
