Looking down as she headed toward the bookstore, Lila noted with a smile how far she’d fallen. Or come full circle, she guessed would be the more appropriate analogy as she now wore thick, heavy, clomping, practical fuzzy boots. Jumping up onto the curb outside the bookstore, Lila gave her landing some spring but managed to restrain herself from raising her hands into a perfect ten finish. She doubted Vanessa could impress the judges like that.
* * *
Standing in the pouring rain at the gas station grasping a family-sized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos in one hand and a pack of Red Vines in the other, Lila looked down inside her car window in horror. There, dangling innocently from the ignition, were her keys. Safely sealed within her eight-year-old Honda Civic which still had manual locks.
It was the kind of moment that prompted one to take stock of one’s life. How had she come to be standing at midnight in the driving rain having just bought nasty junk food from a sleazy guy at a gas station? Back in the city she could have satisfied midnight munchies at a variety of walkable locations. The corner store was open until 2; there was a Safeway four blocks down that stayed open 24 hours. She could have bought herself a healthy snack, maybe an apple or something equally unsatisfying. But not in Redwood Cove where the only thing open past 10 on a Sunday night was the Sunoco out on Highway 1, Stan presiding. Greasy hair and a greasy smile, Stan had provided color commentary on her decision process, agreeing with her rejection of the dusty bags of corn nuts as a “smart move” but criticizing her selection of Red Vines as “too girly.” She wasn’t happy about the Red Vines either, truth be told. In a world of global consumption she was baffled by the inability to find Twizzlers in California. But faced with few other choices, she’d compromised her values.
“She’s bringing home snacks for the whole family!” Stan had announced, scanning the extra large Doritos bag at the counter. Lila wasn’t sure if he was trying to flirt with or haze her; either way she’d wanted to get out of there quick and made a mental note to include more treats in her romantic daily trips to the gourmet market. Sometimes a girl needed her snacks.
Biting the corners of the bags with her teeth, she freed up her hands to franticly pat her pockets in an attempt to find what she wasn’t sure. A spare set of keys she happened to have on her? A lock pick Gram had sent her just in case? Pulling out her wallet—which instantly got soaked as she opened it—she drew out a credit card and held it to the door wondering what it was people did in movies to hotel room doors? Her expired AAA card was still in her wallet just to remind her how nice it would be had she renewed her membership. Her mother had signed her up as a sensible college graduation gift when she was about to drive cross country. Over five years ago.
The rain was nearly deafening, truly coming down in sheets. Her flimsy windbreaker had given up long ago and lay plastered to her body. What had possessed her to come out in this, anyway? Was she that desperate?
Glancing back into the brightly lit gas station she realized she was going to have to head back in and ask for help. From Stan. Deciding that, yes, she was that desperate, she ripped open the bag of Red Vines and tore off two. If she was going to have go back in there, at least she’d be fortified.
“Hello?” a voice yelled against the roar of rain and, startled, she spun around. Jake Endicott stood tall and dry in a long trenchcoat and a golf-sized umbrella. Lila faced him two Red Vines hanging out of her mouth.
“Mmmph!” She responded, unsure whether to shove the uneaten ends quickly into her mouth or rip them off and smush them into her pocket. Going with the former, she tried to compose herself.
“Everything OK?”
“Yeah! Just fine!”
“You’re not locked out of your car?” Jake took a step closer. He looked like a Burberry ad, cutting a dashing figure in the midst of a flash flood at this remote gas station in rural Northern California. It annoyed Lila immensely. “You’ve been standing here the whole time I’ve been filling my tank so it seems like you might be locked out of your car.” With an equally annoying Take Charge attitude, he came over, peered in her car and spotted her keys in the ignition. “You’re locked out.” He looked down at her hand which still lamely held out her credit card as if to pick the lock. When he looked up again his eyebrow was decidedly arched as if to ask, “Really? That’s what you thought of doing?”
Re-evaluating Stan’s appeal and finding him benefiting dramatically from comparison, Lila wondered if it was too late to dash into the store and ask for help. Instead, she watched Jake make his way around to the other side of the car.
“You’re in luck.” Jake yelled across the top of her car. “The rear passenger window’s cracked. Be right back.”
Cracked? Her window was open? Why hadn’t she thought to check that? Slogging her way around to the other side of the car she saw, sure enough, her rear passenger window was down about ¼ inch. How long had it been like that? Not that anyone would be that tempted to steal her Civic, Kelly Blue Book value of $2,200. But, still, it made her wonder what else she’d been going around with, buttons off, flies unzipped and the like.
Back in a jif with a wire hanger, Jake handed his umbrella to Lila with a curt, “hold this.” Untwisting the hanger, he slipped it easily inside the window, grasped the hook around the window roller and wound it down another couple of inches. Reaching in to unlock the door, it was all over in about 60 seconds.
“Wow,” Lila yelled over the rain. “You always carry a hanger?”
“Dry cleaning,” Jake shouted, taking the umbrella back from her.
“Thank you!” she yelled, realizing she was still clutching the snacks in her hand. “Do you want a Red Vine?” she offered, feeling like she should do something nice in return.
“No,” he shouted back, looking as if he meant it.
“Fine.” She realized that she sounded like an insulted six-year-old.
Gathering together the collar of his trenchcoat, Jake warned her, “Try to stay out of trouble” and headed back into the dry comfort of his BMW.
Sopping wet and disheveled but warmed by the internal flames of mortification, Lila climbed back into her own car and wondered how many times she was destined to make a complete ass of herself in front of this man. At what embarrassing and vulnerable moment would he next appear? Perhaps her upcoming OB/GYN appointment? Surely the next time she took a big fall in a mud puddle he’d be there looking dapper in a pinstripe suit.
* * *
The incident still resided foremost in her mind when she stopped by the chocolate shop after work the next day. “Want a Red Vine?” only sounded more and more ridiculous as she played it over in her head. Seated at her usual spot, chopping block and knife in hand, she’d waited until Annie and Zoe both had their aprons on to start relaying the story.
“So, I locked myself out of my car last night,” she began.
“No!” they both responded.
“At the Sunoco down Highway 1,” Lila continued, enjoying the sympathy.
“It was pouring last night,” Annie commiserated. “What did you do?”
“Thought about picking my car lock with a credit card.”
“You know how to do that?” Zoe asked admiringly.
“No, she doesn’t,” Annie replied, adding, “Besides, those work on an entirely different kind of lock. So, what happened?”
Lila shuddered a bit, getting a mental image of herself standing waterlogged, windbreaker hood plastered to her head, credit card in her hand, Red Vines hanging out of her mouth. “Jake Endicott showed up.”
“Jake Endicott?” Zoe hopped off her stool. “Yum!”
“Not so much,” Lila responded. “I was there buying some Red Vines. And I had a few hanging out of my mouth when he came over.”
“Pretty.” Annie laughed, chopping a mound of hazelnuts.
“He had a wire hanger in his car and my back window was open, so...”
“Totally MacGyver!” exclaimed Zoe.
“He had dry cleaning in his car.”
Lila attempted to take her enthusiasm down a notch.
“I love this!” said Zoe, going in the opposite direction and clapping her hands together. “You’re there in the pouring rain. In distress. He rolls up and rescues you!”
“Oh, it was so not like that. You should have seen the look he gave me when he saw I had my credit card out—like I was a complete idiot. And did I mention the Red Vines?”
“Too bad they weren’t Twizzlers,” Annie said. “So much tastier.”
“Oh, aren’t they?” Lila agreed, glad Annie had changed her loyalty after four years of college on the East Coast.
“Mmm, I can just picture him looking at you with those smoldering brown eyes.” Zoe was clearly enjoying an entirely different conversation.
“Nope,” Lila said, at a loss.
“And you’d make a really cute couple,” Zoe continued.
At that, Annie gasped and spun around still holding her knife with a look of alarm.
“Everything OK?” Lila asked, looking for what finger Annie had cut.
“You’re not getting a crush on him, are you?” Annie asked, looking straight at Lila and seeming to wield the knife in her direction. “Because that would be perfect.”
“They would be perfect!” Zoe exclaimed. “You’re such a looker, Lila, with that chestnutty hair and green eyes.”
“He’d be perfect for pining after, moping around, that kind of thing,” Annie clarified.
“Annie!” Lila exclaimed, starting to get offended.
“It just hit me, in a flash,” Annie continued. “He’s exactly the type you fall for. The unattainable playboy. You could waste the next five years sick over him until he finally marries Vanessa.”
“You make me sound so pathetic!”
“Did you or did you not spend all four years of college pining after Josh Gordon?” Hand on her hip, Annie now definitely had the knife pointed toward Lila. It was true, Lila had to admit. She had devoted herself slavishly to Josh Gordon of the golden tresses and rugby shirts. The Frisbee golf champion of Colgate. She’d even tried to develop an interest in the sport herself but lacking any semblance of hand-eye coordination she’d settled for picking study spots nearby the Frisbee green so she could enjoy the view.
“Ooh, was he cute?” Zoe asked.
“Did you or did you not choose the placement of your junior year room based on its proximity to the Frisbee green?” Annie continued, hitting Lila where it hurt.
Preferring to answer Zoe, Lila turned to her and said, “Yeah, he was really cute.”
“And then Phillip and now…Ugh, it would just be too perfect.” Annie turned back to her hazelnuts.
“I dated other guys in college,” Lila protested weakly.
“Yeah, after I badgered you to do it,” Annie scoffed. “And then Josh would turn the spotlight back onto you and they’d be toast.” Looking up at Lila, she added, “Quick, name one guy you dated in college.”
“Besides Josh?” Lila asked, feeling a little panicked. What had that guy’s name been, the earnest one with the turtlenecks and the moleskin notebook filled with scraps of poetry? Our how about that one with the ponytail who simply changed the tone in which he said ‘dude’ to express every emotion?
“I rest my case,” Annie laughed.
“Well, you have nothing to worry about,” Lila said, turning back to her work station and deciding to stick with what she knew she could say with conviction. “I have zero interest in Jake Endicott.”
“Zero?” Annie questioned with the honed edge of a prosecuting attorney.
“Zero!” Zoe exclaimed with surprise.
“Zero,” Lila reiterated. “He’s done nothing but make me feel like a pathetic loser ever since I met him.”
“And that’s stopping you now because...?” Annie asked. Lila rolled her eyes, wishing Annie would give it a rest. “I’m not trying to piss you off, Lila. I just want to see you happy. Pining’s not a good color on you but you wear it a lot. It’s time to be with a guy who’s really into you. You need some wining and dining. Would that be so bad?”
“That would not be bad,” Lila acknowledged
“Sign me up,” Zoe agreed.
“It’s just too textbook,” Annie went on. “Your dad left when you were little. And now you spend your whole life pining away, always falling hard for the guys you can’t have.”
“OK,” Lila dusted her hands off on her apron and took it off her head. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”
“No, no,” Annie rushed over and put her hands on Lila’s elbows, stopping her. “Sorry. Too far.”
“Too far,” Lila agreed, wishing she didn’t have a tear in her eye.
“I just want you out having fun with someone.” Annie continued, giving her a hug. “It’s probably because my life is so boring. I want to live vicariously through you. The last time Pete and I had a date night I fell asleep twenty minutes into the movie.” Pulling away, she added with a dangerous sparkle in her eyes, “I want to fix you up with one of Pete’s friends. One of the non-moronic ones. Or, maybe one of the dumb ones but really, really sexy.”
“Yes!” Zoe added. “How about Tom?”
“Tom!” Annie echoed, turning to Zoe.
As they discussed the pros and cons of Pete’s friends, Lila turned back to her walnuts. She didn’t want to make a scene, bursting out of the chocolate shop and yelling something like “You’ll be sorry when I’m gone!” But she did want to curl up and have a good cry. That was the problem with people knowing you; they knew you. And they could then make an off-the-cuff remark about your absent father and send you into a night of insomnia wondering why, why you were so utterly alone in the universe? A question best not addressed at 2 AM in a small apartment by oneself. Deciding she’d waited a respectable time, Lila hung up her apron, got her coat and headed home to make herself a nice, hot bath and have a sing along to some uplifting songs like “Only the Lonely” or “One is the Loneliest Number.”
Chapter 5: Got My Back Against the Record Machine
In the week following Annie’s chocolate shop psychoanalysis, Lila found herself thinking a lot about Annie’s absent-dad diagnosis. She wasn’t exactly engaging in her typical specialties of brooding or obsessing, but she was turning it over in her mind, examining it at different angles. Tuesday night, curled up with a book, she looked out the window and wondered, “Do I attach to guys I can’t have?” The next day out on a run she reflected that, yes, it certainly appeared that way. The following morning eating a bowl of Greek yogurt and granola so good the Gods surely preferred it to ambrosia she decided, maybe it was time to stop all that?
On Friday, Lila turned 28. The highlight of the day was wearing party hats and eating cupcakes with Annie and Charlotte. Zoe surprised her by presenting her with her own yoga mat to encourage her to “start developing her own practice.” Gram sent her a multi-colored handknit scarf. Her mom sent her a much appreciated $100 check with ‘for your credit card debt’ written in the card. Nothing from her father, of course, but he hadn’t even been there the day she was born.
On Sunday, she was tempted to talk about her dad, or lack thereof, with Gram during their weekly call. But she decided against it. Although they rarely discussed it, she knew Gram already worried plenty about the long-term effects of her absent father on her life. Instead, Lila asked, not for the first time in their relationship, for advice on boys.
They were both curled up on their respective couches—or futon in Lila’s case—on their respective coasts and started, as usual, by comparing the weather. Cape Cod was covered in another five inches of snow. By March it made even the little kids cranky. Gram paid a local teenager to shovel her walk but by the time he’d showed up it had already iced over.
“You’ve done it right, Lila,” Gram said. “California’s the place to be.”
“I’m sorry I’m not there to help you.” Lila felt the pull of guilt and concern over her Gram, growing older on her own.
“Oh, stop it. You’re
right where you’re supposed to be. Now, tell me. How does it feel to be 28?”
“Well, I’m a big girl now,” Lila said. “And I’m thinking of going on a date. Annie wants to set me up with one of Pete’s friends, but I’m not sure how I feel about it. Do you think I should?” That seemed like a more normal question to ask than, ‘Am I a broken, hopeless soul destined to wander the earth alone?’ Lila kept that one to herself, but somehow guessed her Gram got the picture nonetheless.
“What’s the harm in it?” Gram asked. “Pull a comb through that hair of yours, put on a dress. Or some of those jeans you like,” she corrected herself, remembering the era. “And why not tell Annie to make it a double date? If you’re out with Annie and Pete, how bad could it be?”
* * *
Lila unlocked and opened Cover to Cover’s large, heavy front doors with a sense of satisfaction. Godfrey hadn’t earned a key yet and he’d been there much longer. It had only taken Lila two months before Marion trusted her enough to give her the keys to the kingdom. Either it was trust or Marion had really wanted a few mornings off each week. Either way, Lila was happy to have a couple of quiet hours to herself in the sanctuary of the bookstore to putter around making it neat and tidy and greet the first few customers before storytime at 10:30.
Today was going to be fairy tale day. She’d picked out some oldies but goodies, going on a tangent in doing so by reading the real Grimm Brother versions. Feet were burned off, eyes gouged out; it was a grim world. She’d chosen a few happier, cleaned up versions for the toddlers.
Christmas in Wine Country Page 9