Paul looked at her, back to the road, and then back to her again. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this, but I’ve been invited to a party tonight and I’m supposed to bring someone. You want to go?”
“You must be desperate.”
“I don’t have to have a date to go.”
“How many girls turned you down already?”
“Why do you care?”
“I just want to know.”
“Two–they already had something else planned.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Do you want to go or don’t you?”
“Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you later.”
“Don’t do me any favors.”
She smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” To make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea, she added, “If I go with you, it’s hands off.”
“As if I’d want it any other way.”
She eyed him. She either went to Paul’s friend’s party or sat through another one of Cheryl’s old movies. Cheryl thought she was clever sneaking in history lessons with her vintage films. None of them wanted to hurt her feelings by telling her they weren’t fooled, and it wasn’t working. “Yeah, okay, I’ll go. What time?”
“Six. It’s a barbecue.”
“You want me to meet you there?”
“Considering I live five doors down, I don’t think it would be too far out of my way to pick you up. That’s what we do when we go out on dates around here.”
“This isn’t a date.” She didn’t want him thinking this was the beginning of something between them. Two more weeks and she was gone. They would never see each other again. There was no way she was going home thinking about him, wishing for something that couldn’t be. “I’m doing you a favor–to pay you back for giving me a ride to work every morning. That’s all.”
“Thank God. I was beginning to worry you might be developing a thing for me and that I’d have to break your heart.”
“You wish.”
WHEN THE ROOM ASSIGNMENTS AT THE beach house put Maria in one by herself, she’d felt left out. Now she was glad. She didn’t have to put up with Deanna and Karen teasing her for trying on every piece of clothing she’d brought with her as she looked for something special to wear for the party that night. She finally settled on a pair of white jeans and a dark green backless top with ties around the neck.
She stood in front of the mirror, turned sideways, hunched her shoulders, and reached over her head to make sure the top was tied snug enough to keep her covered when she moved. She wanted to be the one who controlled how much was on display.
She spread glitter gel over her shoulders and combed her hair, pinning one side up to expose the tiny green peridot earrings Carlos had given her for Christmas the year before. He’d asked for them back when they broke up, telling her he’d only given them to her because he thought she was going to be a “real” girlfriend. She’d refused out of spite. Now she wore them as a reminder.
“Whoa–look at you,” Deanna said in a singsong voice when Maria joined her and Karen in the living room.
Maria ignored the compliment. She didn’t want them thinking she cared how she looked, or they’d get the idea Paul was important. She’d never get them off her back then. “Where’s Cheryl?”
“Next door,” Karen said. “We’re out of something, but I can’t remember what.”
“Tomato sauce,” Deanna supplied.
“She’s borrowing some from Andrew.”
Maria glanced at her watch. Paul was late. What if he’d changed his mind and didn’t come? She’d die. No, she’d kill him. “What movie did you get for tonight?”
“Scream I and II,” Karen said smugly.
Deanna nodded. “Karen told Cheryl it was our turn to pick, and she gave in.”
Maria groaned, putting on a show of frustration over missing the evening. “You couldn’t have waited until tomorrow night when I’d be here?”
Cheryl came in carrying a can in one hand and a brilliant red miniature cattleya with a yellow throat in the other. She stopped and motioned for Maria to turn around. “Great outfit.”
This she hadn’t expected. “Thanks.”
When Cheryl came out of the kitchen, she was carrying the flower but not the plant. She handed the cattleya to Maria. “Put this in your hair.”
Maria’s jaw dropped. “That’s Andrew’s new cross. It’s the first one that’s bloomed. Alfonso said it’s worth thousands of dollars. And you want me to wear it in my hair?”
Cheryl studied the bloom closer. “He didn’t tell me. But there’s another bud.” She smiled confidently. “And I know he wouldn’t mind.”
Maria stared at the flower, torn between getting rid of the evidence and putting it in her hair. There was no way to reattach it to the stem and it would be a shame to throw a perfectly good flower away.
She and Paul would be the only ones at the party who knew how special it was.
“Go on,” Cheryl said. “I’ll explain it to Andrew.”
“Do it,” Karen prompted. “I would.”
“No one will guess you’re from Oakland,” Deanna chimed in. “They’ll think you’re from Hawaii.”
She had no idea why, but she suddenly wanted that flower in her hair. She smiled her thanks and went into the bathroom to put it on in front of the mirror.
The effect was stunning. She looked older and exotic and even a little mysterious. More important, she looked as if she belonged at the kind of party she imagined a friend of Paul’s would have.
Mesmerized by her reflection, she jumped when she heard a knock on the front door. Her mouth went dry, and her throat tried to close. What had possessed her to agree to go with him? She had no more business at one of his friends’ parties than he did at one of hers. What would she say to these people? She had nothing in common with them. She would make a fool of herself and never hear the end of it, at least for the two weeks she had left. After that she’d have the memory of making a fool of herself, like the time she fell asleep on Carlos’s shoulder and drooled all over his shirt.
And then he would know she really didn’t belong.
Cheryl tapped on the bathroom door. “Paul’s here.”
“I’ll be right there.” She hadn’t been this scared the first time she’d gone to the prison with her mother to visit Fernando.
After several seconds, Cheryl asked softly, “Are you okay?”
Maria closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and opened the door. “I’m fine,” she said brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She went ahead of Cheryl. Grabbing her purse off the coffee table, she made a point of not looking directly at Paul. She didn’t want to see him looking back, didn’t want to see his reaction reflected in his eyes, didn’t want to be disappointed if he was, and didn’t want to return his smile if he approved.
She did see Karen’s and Deanna’s reactions to Paul. Before now they’d only seen him at a distance. Up close he was pretty impressive. Karen did everything but lick her lips. Maria sent her a disgusted look that Karen ignored.
Cheryl walked them to the door. “Have a good time,” she said. “And–”
“Don’t be comin’ home late,” Maria finished for her.
“I’ll have her back early,” Paul said.
He’d already decided the evening was going to be a bust. Maria was tempted to tell him to go by himself, that way he could stay as long as he wanted.
“What I was going to say is that Andrew told me to tell you not to come in until ten tomorrow,” Cheryl said. “The shipment of ceramic pots that he’s been waiting for is supposed to arrive in the morning, and he would like you to start work a couple of hours later and stay a couple of hours longer, if you can.”
Paul thought a minute. “Yeah, I can do that. I just need to call a couple of people.”
She could work every day all day and not have to rearrange anything. “Me too,” she said.
“I’ll let him know.”
Maria continued
to avoid looking directly at Paul until they were in the car and she could do it casually. When she did, her confidence rose a notch. “So, where is your friend’s place?”
“Up the hill about a half mile. We could have walked, but I figured you’d be wearing the wrong shoes, so I brought the car.”
He was right. She’d worn sandals held on by thin straps around her big toes and thinner ones around her ankle.
“By the way–the flower looks great in your hair.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Was he complimenting the flower or her hair or both? “Andrew gave Cheryl the plant and she gave me the flower.”
He smiled. “He must not have told her what it’s worth. But then from what I’ve heard about her, I don’t know that it would have made a difference.”
He had a beautiful smile, one that involved his whole face. And she didn’t even mind that he had blond hair all that much anymore. Not that she’d ever tell him. His ego was big enough already.
They were in the middle of the forest when Paul pulled up to a metal gate so cleverly hidden from the main road that Maria had never noticed it. He leaned out the car window and pressed a button attached to a speaker. When someone answered, he gave his name and the gate swung open.
Maria had seen places like this in the movies and in the Berkeley hills. In her neighborhood, metal bars were on the windows, not the driveways. “Who is this friend of yours?”
“Chris Sadler.” Paul drove through the gate and made a quick turn that took them up a hill through more pines and eucalyptus.
The name took a second to register. Even then she figured it had to be a coincidence. Still, she said, “You’re not talking about Chris Sadler the movie star.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked evenly, feeling a seed of panic take root in the middle of her chest. Chris Sadler was only the hottest thing going. He was always on the cover of some magazine, and his poster was everywhere, including her sister’s bedroom wall. Last she’d heard he’d dumped Jewel and was dating Kelly McIntire, lead singer for Broken Circuit. What if Kelly was there? What was she supposed to say to someone like Chris Sadler and Kelly McIntire? How was she supposed to act?
“He doesn’t like people knowing when he’s up here. This is where he goes to get away from crowds. I respect his privacy.”
“Take me home.”
It was plainly not the reaction he’d expected. He pulled to the side of the road and turned to look at her. “Are you serious?”
She was furious with him for putting her in this position. “I don’t belong here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“These are your kind of people, not mine.”
“My kind of people? What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Movie stars. Rich people. People who hire my kind of people to do their laundry. People who take and take and take and never bother to say thank you.”
“I wash my own clothes, and so does everyone else I know.”
“Including Chris Sadler?”
Frustrated, he ran one hand through his hair and wrapped the other around the steering wheel. “All right, I’ll give you that one. But it hasn’t been that long since he was staying in the house where you are right now and picking up change on the beach to spend at the boardwalk.”
That caught her attention. “Chris Sadler stayed in our house?”
“Every June for over ten years. He came here the whole time my family came.”
“That’s how you met?” Somehow it made a difference.
“We didn’t actually meet each other until a couple of years ago, before Chris made it big in L.A. Staying in the same house all those years gave us something in common, and we became friends.”
“It doesn’t bother you that he’s so famous?”
“Why should it? Take away the hype, and he’s just another guy.”
She was past feeling foolish and on her way to feeling like an idiot. She’d reacted out of fear. Now she was curious. And a little excited. “I don’t suppose you could forget this happened?”
“I’d sure like to try.”
“I’ll make you a deal.”
“Why do I think this is going to benefit you more than it does me?”
“Because under that candy-ass exterior, you’re a fairly sharp guy.”
He stared at her, trying to look pissed, but then he laughed and ruined the effect. “Lay it on me.”
“I’ll stop putting your name on all the flats I find that were planted wrong, if just this one night you treat me like you don’t think I’m the dullest penny in the stack.” Every time the plants were repotted at the nursery the person who did the work put his or her name on a tag. That tag stayed with the plants until they were repotted again.
“You’ve been putting my name on–”
“Not really. But I think about it. A lot. Especially when you’re giving me a hard time.” She gave him her best smile. “Consider that fair warning.”
“I knew better,” he mumbled. “I told myself not to get involved with you, that you were trouble, but no, I had to invite you to this party.”
“You’re not involved with me, Paul. We’re not even friends. So let’s just go to the party and get it over with, and then you can forget you ever met me. Well, you can in two weeks, after I’m gone.”
“Now that’s a deal I can live with.”
She shouldn’t have been disappointed, he’d given her what she wanted. Still, it would have been nice if he’d argued just a little.
5
CHRIS SADLER’S HOUSE SAT AT THE southernmost tip of the cove on a rocky outcropping that overlooked the entire Monterey Bay. The rock-and-brick house wasn’t as big as Maria had expected–she’d pictured something along the lines of the houses that sat on the side of the Berkeley hills–but it was still impressive. The shiny wood floors and fancy carpets, the white sofa and watercolors painted by Paul’s stepfather, Peter Wylie, and the huge windows that looked out on the ocean all spelled money. Not splashy money, like things people bought when they won the lottery, but money that was spent a little at a time because the person waited until he found just what he wanted.
If Maria ever allowed herself to dream about such things, this would be what she dreamed of.
A house far away from everything and everyone. A place where the only sounds came from birds and wind and water. No guns. No babies crying because no one cared enough to pick them up. No people yelling at each other.
Paul had made quick introductions when they arrived, and Maria had tried to remember some of the names, but the only one that stuck, other than Chris’s, was Janice Carlson. She had short dark hair, an athletic build, and was open and friendly with everyone. She seemed more like a “local” than the rest of the people there. Maria automatically gravitated toward her, sensing a social lifeline.
“That flower you’re wearing almost makes me regret cutting my hair,” Janice said. She handed Maria her requested soda.
Maria’s hand went to the flower and then her hair. “I’ve thought about having mine cut, but every time I get in the chair I chicken out.”
“It took me a whole year before I could work up the nerve, but I’ve never been sorry.” She smiled. “Until now.”
“Are you from around here?” Maria asked.
“Not originally.” She sat on a cushioned wrought-iron chair. Maria took the matching one opposite hers. “But I’ve been going to school out here for the past three years.”
“Oh? Where?”
“Stanford.”
Maria knew the school. You couldn’t live in
California and not know Stanford. It was one of those colleges so far out of her league she didn’t even allow it into her dreams. So much for the hope she and Janice would have something in common. Trying for a conversational tone, one that would make her sound as if she discussed this kind of thing all the time, she asked, “What are you studying?”
“I thought I
wanted to be a lawyer, but wound up in economics.” She smiled. “I know, pretty boring stuff, but I find it fascinating.”
Maria had no idea what someone who majored in economics did. “What made you think you wanted to be a lawyer?”
“Actually, it was my dad’s suggestion. He said it was the perfect job for someone who liked to argue and wanted to be in charge. But then I moved out here and realized that part of my personality had more to do with what was going on at home than with who I really am inside.”
The simple statement was like opening a door for Maria. All her life her dreams had focused on what she didn’t want to become and where she didn’t want to be. She’d been running away instead of toward something, willing to settle for anything that would get her where she wanted to go. In a lot of ways, her dream had become her burden.
But it didn’t have to be that way. There was a world of possibilities, and there were dozens of roads she could travel to get where she wanted to go, roads that would let her enjoy the journey. Andrew loved what he did … and so did Cheryl. She wanted to be like them.
Chris came over, bent down, and gave Janice a kiss. She smiled and reached up to take his hand. “Did your mom ever call?” she asked.
“I forgot to tell you. There was a message on the answering machine when we got back from the store. She said they arrived safely and were on their way to buy a raincoat for Charlie.”
Janice looked at Maria. “Chris’s mother and Charlie are in London on their honeymoon.”
“How nice,” Maria said, wishing she could come up with something better. “London is on my list of places I want to see someday.” A list she’d just started.
“I visited Chris when he was there for a movie last fall and can’t wait to go back,” Janice said.
The moment, the people, the conversation were surreal. Was this really her, Maria Anna Ramos, sitting in this house, talking about Stanford University with someone who went there, acting as if a trip to England was a real possibility, casually listening to Chris Sadler’s girlfriend mention a movie he’d made, sitting not three feet away from Chris Sadler himself?
Deanna and Karen were never going to swallow this story. She could take a picture, and they still wouldn’t believe her. Evenings like this just didn’t happen to people like them.
Another Summer Page 22