“Sorry, Tessie. I didn’t know you were down here. Aren’t you chilly?” I asked, nodding to her long, bare legs.
She formed her mouth into a pretty pout and shrugged. “A little. It’s supposed to warm up later.”
“Ah, youth,” Cooper said. “She doesn’t even feel the cold, do you, Tiddlywink?”
Tess glowered at the use of the nickname her mother had foisted on her years before. “Don’t call me that. I hate that name.”
Cooper pacified her with his usual radiant smile. “Listen, kiddo, Jacqueline and I have work to do this morning.”
She looked confused. “You and who?”
I laughed. “He means me. Are you going to help paint the gallery?”
“Who’s there besides my mother and brother?”
“My friend Charlotte came. And Lucas.”
Tess’s eyes widened and she seemed more childlike again. “Ooh, Lucas is here? Finn’s so mad at him, and he won’t tell me why. This should be good.” She banged out the print shop door, eager to see fireworks.
“Hey, you,” Cooper said. “How are you doing today?”
“Okay, I guess.” I fiddled with a strand of hair and then pushed it behind my ear. If only Cooper had been my age, I’d have known how to handle the situation. Or even if I didn’t know exactly, it would be okay, because I’d know that something good was beginning and I could just wait for it to sort itself out. But he wasn’t my age. He was a thirty-year-old novelist, an enfant terrible, as Carolyn Winter had said. In comparison, I was . . . well, more like a plain old infant.
When Cooper walked me home last night, I was more or less hysterical over finding Lorna’s jacket, and he kept his arm around my waist, comforting me without making too big a deal of it. Outside my front door, he didn’t even kiss my cheek. Would he never kiss me again? Or was he just afraid my parents might see? Or maybe he’d decided I was just too immature to be kissed. How was I supposed to know? I was immature.
“So, let’s get to work, huh?” I hoisted my portfolio up onto one of the big tables. We had a job to do—I could stick with that for now. “I brought everything. I couldn’t decide.”
He stood beside me as I opened the cardboard folder. He was as close as he could be without actually touching me, and I could feel the hair on my arm stand up as if it were reaching out for him.
He flipped through the pages, murmuring kind words. “Always loved this one. Oh, these are new: They complement each other, don’t they? Gorgeous, Jacqueline!” I allowed myself to float along on his praise and tried not to think too much further ahead than that.
Cooper started putting the photographs into piles: definitely, maybe, no. I felt sorry for the pictures that went into the “no” stack, but I tried not to be defensive about their rejection. We had to make decisions. Before long I forgot to be nervous, and we began debating the merits of each picture. At the end of an hour we had eighteen Definitelys and a half-dozen others on which Elsie would make the final decision.
“Let’s frame this new one with the footprints across it,” Cooper said. “It should be the centerpiece of the show. The poem is great too.”
“Well, I don’t know if it’s a poem. It’s words.”
Cooper read aloud. “I have kept your shoes/in case I need them./Do you walk in clouds/without me? That’s a poem, sweetie.”
Sweetie. He said it so casually, I knew I shouldn’t love the sound of it so much. But I did.
The two of us settled down to measuring and cutting mat board. I’d done it before, but I wanted to make sure these looked as professional as possible, so I watched carefully as Cooper cut his piece. After working silently side by side for twenty minutes, he said, “You can be quiet for a long time, can’t you?”
I grinned. “I can. I like silence.”
Cooper shook his head. “It makes me nervous. Probably because I grew up in L.A. where there was no such thing as silence. We had a freeway on one side of us and a guy who raised peacocks on the other. Peacocks shriek, although not as loud as my mother.”
“You’re from L.A.? I didn’t know that.” I liked imagining Cooper as a little boy with sun-bleached hair, growing up between traffic jams and peacocks.
“Yup. I had the quintessential L.A. childhood. My mother moved there from Nebraska to become a movie star, but poor Noreen was six feet tall and had acne scars, so her career was a non-starter. All she ever landed was a commercial for Pain-Eze. You’ve probably seen it—it played for years. She’s sitting on the edge of a bathtub pretending to have a headache. There’s a loud drum booming in the background and red sparks shooting out of her head.”
“I have seen it,” I said. “That’s your mother?”
“Well, she’s about twenty-five years older than that now. Only acting job she ever got, but you should hear her; she thinks she’s Meryl Streep. Meryl with a migraine. Oh, I shouldn’t make you laugh. You’ll cut crooked.”
I put down the knife. “Tell me more about living in L.A.”
“It makes people crazy.”
“How?”
“They all want to be famous, one way or the other. It’s like a disease.” He continued to work as he talked. “When my mother couldn’t get any acting jobs herself, she started dragging me to auditions, so at least she could be the mother of someone famous. I can’t tell you how many hours we wasted sitting in studio waiting rooms full of precocious little brats, all of us practicing our off-key audition songs. Everyone had migraines by the time it was over.”
I found this glimpse into Cooper’s unconventional childhood fascinating. No wonder he was so interesting! “Did you get any acting jobs?”
“No Sugar Pops, no Band-Aids, no Jell-O. My mother decided I wasn’t getting chosen because of my name, so she changed it to Cooper.”
“Wait, so Cooper isn’t your real name?”
“Well, it is now. But I was Howard Thorne, Junior at birth. I’m grateful to her for the name change. It looks better on a book jacket, and besides, who wants to be named after somebody he can’t stand?”
“Your dad? Howard Thorne, Senior?”
He grunted. “Believe it or not, the guy sabotaged the only decent acting gig I ever got.”
“Tell me.”
Cooper handed the knife back to me. “Okay, but keep cutting or we’ll never get done here. I landed a role in a TV pilot when I was thirteen. I’d had a small part in a Law & Order episode once, but this was the first lead I’d gotten. Noreen was ecstatic.”
“What show? Did it get on TV?” I tried to concentrate on my cutting, but it was hard.
“It did. It was a sitcom called ‘Master of the House.’”
“I remember that show!”
“Then you probably remember that I wasn’t in it. Howard Thorne, Senior didn’t want me to do it. He had some stupid excuse about my grades, but I knew he was really just jealous that Noreen liked me better than him, and he damn well wasn’t going to sit around and watch me succeed. So, he called the director and told him that he’d worked with me before, and he thought the guy should know that I was an unreliable, dope-smoking delinquent.”
I put the knife down again. “No! Your dad did that?”
“Yes, he did. And, surprise, the director decided I wasn’t right for the role after all. Teenage actors are a dime a dozen out there—they don’t need to hire the kid who’s going to show up late with dilated pupils. I never got offered another gig in Hollywood.” Cooper picked up his mat knife and made a long perfect cut. His eyes narrowed as if he were performing surgery, maybe on his father.
“That’s terrible!” I wanted to comfort that thirteen-year-old, cheated by someone he trusted.
“Seemed like it at the time, but if I’d been in that stupid TV show I might never have started writing. I’d be some B-list actor living in West Hollywood, hoping somebody recognized me when I strolled down Rodeo Drive.”
“Wow, Hollywood. Your childhood sounds kind of amazing.”
He shrugged. “Everybody has an amazi
ng childhood, don’t they? Life only gets boring when you grow up.”
“You think so?”
“Sure. The first time you do something, whatever it is, it’s magical. First merry-go-round, first bicycle, first Hollywood audition, first driving lesson, first smoke, first kiss, first sex. Boom! Pow! Socks knocked off! After that it’s all downhill.”
I made a face. “I hope not.”
Cooper gave me a sly smile. “Why? You run through all your firsts already?”
I could feel the blush crawl up my cheeks. Just when I was starting to feel easy with him again too. I picked up the knife and willed my hand steady. “I still have a few experiences to look forward to.”
But when Cooper’s fingers dug into my shoulders, massaging out the tension, I had to put the tool back on the table. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t have a younger sister to tease, so I never got it out of my system.”
“Is that how you think of me, like a little sister?” I couldn’t believe I’d said that.
Cooper turned me around so I was facing him, then leaned down and gave me a decisive kiss on the lips. “I wish I could think of you that way,” he said, moving his mouth to my ear. His breath on my neck once again awakened all my nerves. “Unfortunately, I don’t.”
I reached up and folded my arms around his neck. It wasn’t over—it was just beginning! Just as he leaned in for another kiss, the door banged open and Finn swaggered in.
“I need masking tape. Do you know where—” He stopped talking and stared at us.
Cooper looked up, his arms still around me. “Masking tape? There’s a box of it on the desk in my office. You can put the extras in the supply closet.”
“Jesus Christ,” Finn said as he backed toward the door he’d just come in. “I can’t freakin’ believe this.” He pointed a finger at Cooper while he glared at me. “I’m working my butt off for you, and you’re in here making out with him?”
I pushed away from Cooper, but Finn was already out the door, slamming it as hard as he could.
“Oops,” Cooper said.
I was simultaneously thrilled and horrified by what had happened. At least now Finn knew somebody found me attractive. Cooper didn’t push me away! But Finn was already mad at me about Lucas—what if this was the final straw that would break us all apart?
Plus, I didn’t want Elsie to know about . . . whatever this was. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t approve. She might think she should step in and say something embarrassing about our age difference to me or to Cooper or possibly both of us together.
“Do you think he’ll tell Elsie?” I asked Cooper.
“Never happen. Teenage boys don’t run and tell Mommy. He’ll just go off and brood about letting you get away.” Cooper grinned. “Meanwhile, caught kissing an older man: another first for you!”
I smiled and lifted my face for seconds.
19.
On Sunday morning I walked to the Center with Charlotte. I didn’t bother to call Finn—there was no reason to think he’d show up to help me a second time, not after yesterday.
The dancing policeman at the intersection by the wharf spun in a circle and waved the hordes of people across the busy street.
“Elsie thinks we’ll finish a second coat on the walls today,” Charlotte said. “We’re ahead of schedule.”
“I know.” I leaned into her. “Thanks for coming today, Char. I didn’t expect you to after working the early shift at the café.”
“I’m having fun. I like a project.”
I nudged her with my elbow. “Is that the only thing you like?”
“What?” Charlotte fought back a grin.
“I saw you and Lucas off in the corner yesterday. You were both working on that one little piece of wall for forty-five minutes!”
“So not true!” Her grin broke through. “He’s sweet, though, isn’t he?”
“Charlotte likes Lucas,” I sung in a quiet, tinny soprano.
“Shut up!”
“I’m happy for you. You make a great couple.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not there yet, so don’t count your chickens. Or my chickens either. And speaking of who-did-what-with-whom, I hear you were caught smooching Cooper yesterday.”
I stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk and three people ran into me. “Finn told you?”
Charlotte nodded and pulled me to the curb so the crowd could pass. “I think he was so shocked, he had to tell somebody, and he certainly wasn’t going to talk to Lucas about it.”
“Did he tell anybody else? Like Elsie?”
“I don’t think so. Is it a secret?”
“Sort of. I hope he doesn’t tell his mother. Besides, I don’t know exactly what we’re doing, Cooper and me, and I don’t want people to start talking about it. It might not be anything.”
“Well, Finn thought it was something, and he’s not happy about it,” she said.
“He thinks Cooper’s too old for me. But I’m not a baby.”
“I reminded him that the pickings are kind of slim in a small town. Especially one where half the population is gay.”
“You told him that?” I laughed.
“Yup. I asked him if he expected you to wait around for him to get over Lorna at age forty.”
“You did not! Charlotte!”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? If Finn was available, you wouldn’t be kissing Cooper.”
We jumped the leash of a barking Chihuahua whose preoccupied owner was deep in conversation with a man in a Speedo on a bicycle. I was so discombobulated I almost tripped.
“Oh, my God, I can’t believe you said that.”
“He couldn’t either. It shut him right up.”
“Char, I know you mean well, but please don’t say stuff like that about me to Finn anymore. It’s not going to happen with him. Ever. I don’t know why he even cares if I’m with Cooper.”
“I don’t think he knows why he cares either. But he does, believe me.”
I shook my head. It was too confusing, and I had too much else to think about.
• • •
“Oh good, you’re here,” Elsie said as we walked in. “I want to tell you all the big news.”
To my surprise Lucas and Finn were both there, standing on opposite sides of the gallery, Finn looking as if he’d just had a breakfast of lemons. Rudolph sulked in the background, frowning into a cup of coffee. I assumed Cooper had already heard the “big news”—there was a knowing smile on his face when he came over to stand between Elsie and me.
“There are going to be some changes around here very soon,” Elsie said, “and you guys are the first to know. As of Friday, I’m stepping down as Director of the Center and Cooper is taking over the job.” She reached out to touch her protégé on the arm as she said his name. He bowed slightly.
A grunt of disbelief escaped Finn’s throat. “That’s the big news I had to come here for?”
Nobody else seemed to know what to say in response to Elsie’s announcement. Rudolph, who was obviously already aware of the decision, gave Cooper a disgusted look. Charlotte and Lucas filled the silence with weak applause and, after a few seconds, I realized that I ought to join them.
“Congratulations,” Rudolph said to Cooper, sounding completely insincere. “Maybe the next time you give an interview, you’ll remember to mention the place you work.” Duty done, he stalked out the door and in a moment they heard his car peel out of the parking lot.
I tried not to look stricken. “But why are you leaving?” I asked Elsie. “I mean, Cooper will be great, of course, but you are Jasper Street.”
“That’s exactly why I’m stepping down,” Elsie said. “Running the Center has taken over my life. I never meant to be an arts administrator forever. I’m a painter, Jackie. I want to get back to that.”
“And it’s a great opportunity for me,” Cooper said. Did he sound a little miffed?
“Oh, I know,” I said. “I’m really happy for you!”
“This
just seems like the right moment,” Elsie continued. “Cooper’s been here so long, he knows the place inside out. There’s no one else I’d feel as comfortable turning over Jasper Street to. And,” she paused for effect, “I’ve decided to use the occasion of your opening, Jackie, to formally announce my resignation and Cooper’s promotion. All the new Fellows will be here by then and we’ll make it a celebration. What do you think?”
I hesitated for just a second, then managed to drum up an enthusiasm I didn’t feel. “That’ll make it a really special evening,” I said. I knew it was selfish of me to mind that my big moment would be eclipsed by Cooper’s. After all, he was an adult—this was a big deal for him, whereas my show was just a scheme to bolster my college prospects. It was childish to feel disappointed. Swallow it, I told myself, and act like a big girl.
“That’s not fair,” Finn said. “Why do you have to combine the two things? The opening should be just for Jackie. Why do you have to stick Cooper in the middle of it?”
“I’m not ‘sticking’ Cooper anywhere,” Elsie said. “We just thought it would make the evening that much more special. Don’t you think so, Jackie?”
Finn groaned. “You’re putting her on the spot, Mom. What’s she going to say?”
Elsie looked sincerely worried. “Am I, Jackie? I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I am. It’s a great idea,” I said, because—Finn was right—what else could I say?
“It’s settled then,” Elsie said. “Let’s get this place painted.”
Elsie and Cooper started prying lids off paint cans, but I stood and stared at Finn until I caught his eye. As soon as he looked at me, I mouthed, “Thank you.”
• • •
I felt like I was in the eye of the storm and didn’t know where to run for cover. Standing too close to Cooper or even talking to him in Finn’s vicinity seemed like tossing a match into dry grass, so I tried to find places where I could paint by myself.
Lucas and Charlotte were definitely flirting, but they were self-conscious about it and kind of jumpy. Finn wasn’t speaking to Lucas, and even though he was speaking to Cooper, it was only to complain about his workmanship or chide him for taking too many breaks. When Elsie tried to make a joke about Finn’s rotten mood, he bitched at her too. By four o’clock we’d finished painting and I was exhausted, not from the work but from the tension in the room.
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