The View from Alameda Island

by Robyn Carr

  “That’s not casual,” she said. “That’s the vagrant look. I put your clothes on the bed.”

  “Seriously?”

  “When your friends and family come to dinner, you can dress yourself,” she informed him.

  She had also put out clothes for the boys. For once in their lives they didn’t grumble or argue because they could tell she was on a tear and life wasn’t going to get any easier until this “introduction dinner” was behind them. Beth put a little extra time into her own prep. Although she kept her hair short and easy, for this party she used the blow-dryer and applied makeup. Even eye makeup, which she never wore because looking into the camera made it smear and glop. She put on a sleek black pantsuit, one she reserved for their nights out. On her way to the kitchen she stopped off at the man cave, straightened up, sprayed air freshener all around.

  When she went into the kitchen she saw Chip leaning against the counter, drinking a beer. He tilted his head toward the great room. Stefano and Ravon sat side by side, hair combed, faces scrubbed, wearing the clothes she had put out for them. Ravon held on to Morty’s collar so he wouldn’t run around like a dog. Which he was.

  “Look at you,” Chip said to Beth. He grinned lasciviously. “Maybe they’ll go home early.”

  “I’m counting on your manners.”

  “What happens if we just act normal?” Ravon asked.

  “I’ll make your life hell,” she said.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Showtime,” Chip said. And Beth whacked him in the arm.

  Lauren, Beau and Drew came in. Lauren was carrying her cake. She looked like she always looked, slacks pressed with a crease, boots with a heel, cashmere sweater. “Wow,” she said. “Look at the Shaughnessy family. We going to church tonight?”

  “Funny,” Beth said. “Hi,” she said, sticking out her hand to Beau.

  “Beau and Drew, meet my sister, Beth, brother-in-law, Chip, nephews Ravon and Stefano. And Morty,” she added. Morty was straining at the hold Ravon had on his collar. He desperately wanted to jump on the company.

  There was hand shaking, smiling, welcoming.

  “Nice place,” Beau said.

  “Great yard,” Drew said, stretching his neck to look through the patio door. “Is that a basketball hoop out there?”

  The boys nodded. “We’re not allowed to have fun tonight,” Stefano said. “Or she’ll make us pay.”

  Drew loved it. “Not if I talk you into it. Show me the back. Come on. And let go of the dog before he passes out.”

  Chip put a hand on Beau’s shoulder. “Let’s get you a drink.”

  “I’ll take one of those,” he said with a nod toward Chip’s beer.

  “Thank God you got here before she made us paint and reupholster,” Chip said.

  The table was set, the lasagna was ready and staying warm, the poppers were ready to go in the oven. Chip took Beau outside with the boys and lit the fire pit. The men were going to bond.

  “Beth, you went to a lot of trouble,” Lauren said.

  “I did,” she admitted. “If we don’t love each other after tonight it won’t be my fault. Want wine?”

  “Absolutely,” Lauren said. “And relax—everyone loves Beau and Beau loves everyone. As far as I can tell, Drew is just like him. Michael declined. He’s still struggling with the divorce. I haven’t even met him yet.”

  “Does that worry you?” Beth asked.

  “No. I have a pissy one of my own. We decided we don’t much care. It’ll all fall into place eventually.”

  “Pissy kids could make it harder,” Beth said.

  “What can you do?” Lauren asked. “Stay in a bad situation till they finally give you permission to have a life?”

  “God,” Beth said, handing her a glass of wine. “You’re so calm.”

  “Amazing how you feel when you’re spending time with a calm, rational person. Cheers,” she said, lifting a glass to her sister. “And thank you for this. It’s all beautiful.”

  “My pleasure. As soon as we get to know each other a little, we’re going back to our slovenly ways.”

  * * *

  The dinner at Beth’s house was a roaring success. Chip, Beau, Drew and the boys bonded, laughed, clearly liked each other. Drew threw baskets with them, putted with them on the backyard putting green, laughed like idiots when Morty got in the pool and then shook, leaving everyone’s pants speckled with water. They joked and talked through dinner. “We sure never had this much fun with the last guy,” Stefano said.

  “Stefano!” Beth shouted, going completely pale.

  “It’s okay, Beth,” Beau said. “We all know there was a last guy.”

  * * *

  A week later, Beau talked Michael into meeting them for dinner at the pub. He wanted him to meet Lauren. Michael was a little quiet and standoffish at first, but Lauren plied him with questions about school and future plans, and before long Michael was almost as personable as Drew. She thought almost because it was hard to top Drew for personality. That kid was just magic.

  At least Michael did not seem angry or resentful and that was all she hoped for.

  The weekend before Thanksgiving, there was another poker night and this time Michael and his girlfriend, Raisa, joined them, along with Darla and Drew and Father Tim.

  “Your favorite third wheel is here,” Father Tim said.

  “We don’t think of you that way,” Lauren said. “You’re our favorite, however.”

  They had fun, Lauren got along wonderfully with Raisa, Michael opened up even more and it looked as though the holidays might not be as stressful as she feared.

  Cassie had confirmed she would not be back in California for Thanksgiving but would be home for ten days at Christmas. Lacey agreed to spend the early part of Thanksgiving with Lauren and Beth, the later part with her father. Brad would be having Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant with his mother.

  Lauren, Beth and Beau did a little working behind the scenes to arrange a workable schedule. Beth would host the Shaughnessy clan for an early dinner served at about four o’clock, a dinner that would go on and on and on, ending with at least two desserts and one session of leftover grazing. “The Shaughnessys are like locusts,” Beth said. “They eat forever.”

  Beau would serve a later dinner at around six. That way Lauren could drop by on her way home from Beth’s and have dessert with them, a dessert she would supply. She could meet his brother, sisters, their spouses, his nieces and nephews, his sainted mother. In fact, she was supplying three pies, which she would bring over in the morning.

  Beau’s boys reported that Pamela was taking a holiday, spending Thanksgiving in Cabo with some friends. “If I’m reading them right, Drew and Michael are relieved,” Beau said. “Pamela has little family, they’re not close and they tend to get into squabbles. Holiday dinners with some of them is a game of Russian roulette. But I pointed out to the boys that from now on, if they have a woman or wife in their lives, they’ll be working out and sharing a holiday schedule so no one feels left out. It won’t be about their parents so much as their partners. I could see on their faces they liked that idea better than trying to work things out between their divorced parents.”

  “No doubt,” Lauren said. “Poor Lacey is going to a restaurant with her stuffy father and stuffier grandmother.”

  “It’ll probably be delicious,” he said.

  “And lonely.” Because Lacey was the one who didn’t want anything to change even if what had been was pretty bad.

  It all went off as if perfectly choreographed. Lacey joined the Shaughnessys and visited a little with Beth’s in-laws. She had a glass of wine and some hors d’oeuvres before going off to the city to meet her father and grandmother. No one in the Shaughnessy household had breathed a word about Lauren’s plans for after dinner and when Lacey left Beth nearly collapsed in relief.
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  “Were you worried?” Lauren asked. “It was fine.”

  “I threatened to cut their tongues out if Stefano or Ravon spilled the beans. I hope you’re going to tell Lacey pretty soon, let her have her tantrum and we can all move on!”

  “I’m sorry, Beth. I don’t mean to make it so hard for you.”

  “Hard? This is the most promising holiday we’ve had in a very long time! It’s nerve-racking, trying to keep things from exploding, but I’m so relieved you’re finally doing this. It was so painful to think of my big sister as a victim of that asshole.”

  “I wasn’t a victim, honey,” she said. “I’m starting to realize I was an accomplice. I should have done this so long ago. It’s time for Act II—Beau’s house for dessert and coffee and meeting the family.”

  “They will love you.”

  There were a lot of cars parked along the street, a lot of lights showing from inside the houses as though big families were gathered in almost every one, leaving only a few houses dark. She had to park a block away, which she didn’t mind—it gave her time to settle her nerves.

  Beau answered the door, his smile big, drawing her into a hug. “How was Beth’s?” he asked.

  “Lovely. Lacey escaped before anyone dropped it that I have a boyfriend, but I’m not going to make it past Christmas. I thought I was the only one afraid of her temper. It turns out everyone is!”

  “Well, come in here where everyone is dying to meet you. My mother and sister are cutting your pies.”

  “I hope they’re good,” she said.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he said, squeezing her hand. “The boys have been telling everyone how sweet you are.”

  She stopped walking. “Even Michael?” she asked.

  “Even Michael,” he assured her. “Come on.”

  Once inside she found the place swarming with people. She was introduced first to Beau’s mother, Christine, a sturdy white-haired lady with a bright smile who grabbed both of her hands and exclaimed it was so nice to meet her. Beau’s brother Jeff introduced his wife and one of his two grown sons and a daughter-in-law, Beau’s sister Jeanette, her husband, two kids and one of them had brought a friend. Beau’s sister from San Diego couldn’t make the dinner. Beau’s boys both said hello, then Drew, apparently after thinking about it, gave her a hug. Michael had brought his girlfriend, Raisa, but Drew said he was headed to Darla’s house a little later. There was a lot of chatter as they asked her about her daughters, oohed and ahhed over their impressive pursuits and asked Lauren all about her job.

  “I work in product development for Merriweather Foods. Sometimes I make cooking videos.”

  “I think I could do that,” Beau’s mother said.

  The women talked jobs and kids and Lauren wanted to know all about Christine’s garden when the kids were growing up. The men wandered off but Beau was never too far away. They joked about growing up in a too-small house and told stories about Beau that had everyone laughing. And before Lauren knew it, over two hours had passed. The words divorce or ex-spouses never came up. And she was exhausted. The stressful anticipation of wondering how she would be accepted, wondering if anyone would challenge her as the other woman, of worrying that Lacey would suspect something while they were at Beth’s house, a full day of people and food, left her tired and anxious to pull the shade on this day. Then she noticed Beau’s mother stifling a yawn and knew it was time.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Another piece of pie? Coffee? Wine?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She laughed. “I’ve eaten so much today, I’ll be lucky if I can roll over in bed!”

  It took as long to say her goodbyes as it had to make the introductions and it was after nine by the time she was walking out the door. Beau insisted on walking her to her car. They were barely ten feet down the drive when he pulled her to a stop, put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her in a way that made her wish they could be alone for a few hours. “Thank you for being so wonderful to my family,” he said.

  “They’re wonderful people, Beau. They were very nice to me. They didn’t ask a single embarrassing question.”

  “They’re good that way,” he said. Then he kissed her again. “After everyone has left and Drew has gone to Darla’s, I’m coming over.”

  “You don’t have to do that...”

  He laughed wickedly. “Tell me you don’t want me to come...”

  She laughed right back at him. “I want you to come and never leave...”

  “Soon, baby,” he said, kissing her again.

  “So, this is how it is,” a woman said. Beau jumped.

  He turned. “Pam, what are you doing here?”

  “I changed my plans, so I thought I’d swing by and say hello to the family.” She shook her head. “So this is why you won’t give us another try. You were cheating. I knew it all along.”

  Lauren couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. She also couldn’t help but notice that large tears had formed in the dark, lacquered eyes.

  “I never cheated on you, but all that’s irrelevant now. You have to leave. I don’t want you to upset my mother. Or anyone else.”

  “I love you so much,” Pam said, the tears flowing. “I told you I’d do anything to make it right! But you just had to get yourself a side piece!”

  “Stop that! Don’t be vulgar! We’re not going to have it out on Thanksgiving in the driveway with the boys and my family inside!”

  “I did everything I could,” she whimpered.

  “Beau, I have to leave,” Lauren said. “This isn’t for me to see...”

  “Beau, please, send her away. Please talk to me,” Pam said.

  “Jesus Christ, Pam, no more drama! There’s nothing more to talk about! I’m done!”

  “Send her away and talk to me, please...”

  “Beau, talk to her,” Lauren said. “I’m getting out of here.”

  Lauren took off at a brisk semi-jog, heading down the block to her car.

  “Shit,” she heard him say behind her. “Pamela, don’t you dare go near that front door. Stay right here!” He ran up behind Lauren. “Lauren, you go home and I’ll call before I—”

  The door to the house slammed. “Oh God! Just shoot me now!” He turned and jogged back to the house.

  Lauren sped home. She put her car in the drive, let herself in the house, locked the door and cried. For about a hundred reasons.

  Is that what his wife thought? That they hooked up before he was free. Did he tell her the truth? About the many separations, that she’d left him six months before they met? Was she there to get his sons and family to put pressure on him to save his marriage? Is this how it would be, ex-spouses constantly drumming up trouble? Would people think they’d strayed on their spouses and that’s what caused their divorces? Would she turn the boys against her?

  The day had been so perfect, so positive. And was coming to a close with a very nasty twist.

  * * *

  Pamela was already in the living room, putting on a real show, by the time Beau got back in the house. It was like theater in the round—the boys, his family, his mother, all sitting around or standing, speechless while Pamela sobbed that she would do anything to save her marriage, that she didn’t know Beau was cheating on her, she never suspected, that even her sons had betrayed and turned against her, that she wanted to come home, live in her house again, be the wife and mother...

  Beau looked around the room. His mother was twisting her hands and had a pained expression on her face, Michael’s eyes were pinched and he also looked as if he might be in pain. But everyone else looked disgusted and bored. Of course. They’d seen her in action before. Many times. They’d been to Beau’s house during those times Pamela was on sabbatical and witnessed for themselves that the closets were stripped bare of her things. His mother had no idea what was happening on Facebook but th
e boys and his siblings did. They all saw pictures of her dancing, sunning herself on sandy beaches, doing shots, grinning over the tops of martini glasses, relaxing and enjoying life. The party girl.

  “Pamela, you have to leave now,” Beau said. “Boys, would one of you see that your mother gets safely to her car?”

  “All I want is a little of your time! We’ve been together for so long! Are you going to throw it all away for your cheap side chick?”

  “Mom!” Michael said, rising to his feet. He threw a forlorn look at Beau’s mother, his step-grandma. Oh God, they had to be as embarrassed by her volatile behavior as he was.

  “Come on, Mike,” Drew said. “Let’s get her to her car.”

  One of them on each side, her sons escorted her out the front door.

  Beau was left to look at most of his family. He faced a room of such oppressive silence, his ears rang. He met each pair of eyes. His mother was shaken, his brother’s pregnant daughter-in-law looked horrified, his sister Jeanette looked like she was contemplating murder.

  “Well,” his mother said. “Lauren seems very nice. Shall we be sure this time?” she asked.

  The room was filled with laughter.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Father Tim spent Thanksgiving evening serving dinner at the mission in downtown Oakland. He usually presided over mass on this holiday. Instead he was with Angela and her friends. They had nearly finished cleaning up the kitchen, saving some meals in the warmer for latecomers, but the rush was over.

  He’d been talking to Angela a great deal since he’d brought her his last crop before Thanksgiving. He wanted to tell her what he was doing, that he was re-entering the secular life. That led to other discussions, including how he felt about her. And to his thrilled surprise, she returned his feelings. She admitted to being fond of him. He had spent every spare minute with her since.

  “How was it to miss mass?” she asked him, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “I’m sure Father Damien did fine.”