“I can’t lie. I do mean to pry.” I squeezed her hand beneath mine. “I can’t get…that night out of my mind. You were,” I sighed, “deeply affected.”
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to be deeply affected anymore. I want to feel something else other than wretchedness.” She pulled her arm from mine, leaving the spot where her hand was feeling cold. “You asked. You seemed sincere. Now here I am,” she quipped.
“Fair enough.” I smiled down on her, wanting to put my arm around her.
“I met Philip in college. We both went to MIT.”
Wow. “So you’re a brainiac,” I teased.
“Pretty much.” She tossed her head back. “I had big dreams once, and then Phillip dabbled in some things and ended up becoming a pilot, and I became a graphic designer.”
“I admit I wondered what you did with yourself for two years inside that house, other than being a mom,” I teased, laughing at my next playful thought. “Like, were you knitting scarfs n’shit.”
She gasped, covering her mouth. “How did you know?” Then cutest little giggle bubbled out of her mouth. Her words reminded me of what her son, Ethan, had said.
“Ethan had the same exact reaction when I asked if his shoes were fast.”
Grace’s eyes sparkled, and she sighed deeply. “Yeah, he needs to slow down and watch where he’s going. He tends to run too fast and look back at whoever’s chasing him, and eats it.”
I recalled doing the same thing with my dad, Michael, him tackling me to the ground and tickling me. I did the math in my head. Ethan was probably just two years old when his dad died. Way younger than I was. I wondered if he had a man in his life.
“What does Ethan do besides preschool and swim class?”
Grace looked out over the vast sea of sand to our left. “We play in the sand.”
“Not a bad life. I grew up here playing in that sand, too.”
More questions were burning in my throat, and so was my own story. “My dad died too, when I was a kid.” I just blurted it out like I was talking about the weather, and Grace stopped and grabbed my arm, alarm glowing in her eyes. She covered her mouth as her eyes searched mine.
Shaking her head, she said, “I’m so sorry.”
This time I went for it and put my arm around her shoulders. It spurred her to walking again. “It’s life. Some of us are just dealt shittier hands than others.”
Grace was silent.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so lackadaisical about it. Ethan and I are in the same club. Nothin’ we can do about it.”
9
Grace forgave my insensitivity and what sounded to her like bitterness in my words (maybe there was) as I explained a little more about my father, leaving out the infidelity and situation with my mother and Notting. She was more in disbelief than anything else. I didn’t dwell on my situation. I was too interested in hers. Ten minutes later we came up on Twenty-First Street in Hermosa Beach, and she stalled a bit to watch the volleyball players. This only made me think of Aly, and I wondered what she was doing right at that same moment. Was she with Nathan? Was she playing volleyball, too?
“I live right up this hill. On Circle Drive.” She pointed over her shoulder, and then wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.
I leaned up against the cement wall that separated the sand from The Strand. I didn’t want our time to end. “I’ll walk you home.”
“I wish I’d brought a jacket. We could’ve watched the sunset.”
My stomach tumbled. I was stoked she didn’t want to leave either.
“Come on.” I pushed myself from the wall and threw my arm around her shoulder again. “I shoulda, too.” Then I said something off the cuff, pulling her closer, and wanted to sink into the cement as soon as I heard my voice. “Body heat.” Fuck. Why did I say that?
I was relieved when she chuckled and allowed my arm to remain where it was. “Indeed. Lack of weather judgment.”
We walked silently a couple more blocks, up a fairly decent incline. The sidewalks disappeared, and we cruised up the middle of the street, just like I used to do when I was a kid. We were well warmed by the time we got to her doorstep. I was surprised at how large her home was when we stopped in front of a two-story Tuscan-inspired house. A stone façade with wrought iron balconies and ivy-covered walls towered in front of me.
“Thanks for walking me home.” She spun to face me.
“Nice pad,” I said, taking in the tight, well-placed landscaping in the sliver of a front yard. She thanked me for the compliment, and I almost continued with something else untoward – graphic design must be doin’ you right. I thought better of it and just smiled at how idiotic my mind was sometimes. I wasn’t dealing with the type of person I normally dealt with. I tucked my arms around me, chilled from the cold ocean breeze whipping more fiercely around me, and had a chuckle. “I better jog home.”
“Oh. I have something. You have a bit of a walk still.” She reached out, rubbing my shoulder. “Come in.”
Before I could politely decline her offer, she was through her front door and Ethan was shouting, “Mommy!” Hearing his little voice made me smile. “Mommy!” he shouted again.
“I’ll be right there,” Grace’s voice carried out faintly from a hallway.
“Hey! I know you!” I looked up in the direction of Ethan’s voice. He was standing at the top of the stairway, looking down at me from the banister. I watched as he bound down the stairs at full speed, wearing a Spiderman mask.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa buddy! Slow down.” I laughed as he tripped and fell at the bottom of the stairs. I caught a glimpse of what looked like album covers peppering the wall along the stairway. I made sure Ethan was in good shape, and looked closer at the wall. They were album covers, ones I recognized. No way. Did she design those?
“Ethan! Take the mask off,” Grace huffed in dismay, shaking her head. She held a black hoodie in her hands. “I swear, he’s gonna really hurt himself one day.”
I laughed. “I lived. He’ll be just fine.” I ruffled his hair.
She smiled, looking back at Ethan. “Go back upstairs and get ready for bed.”
“See, Mom!”
“Shh.” Grace pointed at him, and he kicked his foot out in frustration, but didn’t argue. He quietly walked back up the stairs, and once he got to the top he shouted, “I’m gonna wrap you in my web and make you go to bed too!”
He dashed away defiantly, and Grace’s mouth gapped open. She shot me a look of surprise. I held back my laughter when I noticed Grace didn’t find it funny.
“He’s getting more brave with the backtalk these days.”
I nodded. “Pushing the envelope.” I still did it.
“Here. Um.” She stalled, holding out the zip-hoodie to me. “It was Phillip’s.” She shook it out. “Sorry, it might be a bit dusty.”
I felt weird taking it from her, but I didn’t want to offend her ,and I didn’t want to freeze my ass off walking home either. “Thanks,” I said, taking it from her. I sighed. “And thanks for a great time.”
She held her index finger to her lips for me to be quiet. “Ester?” Grace raised her voice, and I heard a “yes?” A little brunette woman with short hair and wide-set eyes came out from what I assumed was the kitchen, drying her hands on a floral dishrag. “I’ll be right back. Can you make sure Ethan’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing?”
“Yes, Ms. Grace,” she said quietly, walking up the stairs.
“Thank you.”
Grace and I walked outside, and I slipped Phillip’s sweatshirt over my shoulders, feeling overwhelmingly sad for Grace, Ethan and myself. Life fucking sucks.
“Seriously.” I turned to face her. “Thanks for going out with me. I can’t imagine what it must be like…”
“Actually,” she interrupted, “you can probably understand more than anyone I know.”
I nodded. She was probably right. “Yeah.” I sighed, swallowing the frog in my throat. “Anyway, thanks for
humoring me tonight.”
“Thank you for getting me out of the house for a grown up outing.” She chuckled, rubbing her arms.
“You wanna do it again?”
Apprehension stirred in her eyes.
“Look, Grace, I get it. There’s no pressure. I just feel like I have to know you. I keep thinking about how…touched you were at my show, and I wanted to know why. I want to know more about you.”
She pulled her arms into her chest, nodding, and I continued, “My circle is very small, Grace. I don’t let too many people in.”
“I get that.”
“Not that it means anything to you.” I stuck my hands in my pants pockets. “I’m not here because I’m ready to date other people. I’m still in love with Alyssa; at least, I think I am. To be honest, I don’t really know why I’m here, other than I want to know you. There’s no pressure on my part. I just want to make sure you know that.”
She smiled and brushed the hair that had blown into her aqua eyes out of the way. “Okay. I understand, and I feel the same way about this. The more I know about you, the more I believe you get it.”
I gave Grace a hug and told her I’d talk to her soon. I wasn’t sure when, but I knew I’d be calling her, I was too drawn to her not to call on her again.
It took me about another twenty minutes to walk home, and it was dark by the time I reached my front door. I’d talked to Marty most of the way home. He’d filled me in on what Mr. Todd had said, referring me to a private investigator to find out what was going on with Sienna and her tell-all book.
“Mr. Todd finally called me back. He wants to talk to you directly.”
“Why? Why can’t David just give you a number?”
“I’m not the one to argue with a man like Mr. Todd, Jake.” His voice was crisp.
Marty had a good point. David Todd kind of scared me. That’s why I didn’t want to talk to him. Marty said that he’d knocked on Mr. Todd’s door a few times. He was never there, and he finally left a note with Miguel, the doorman to the building of my apartment in New York. Marty pinged me with the number.
“When are you coming back?” he demanded, an uncommon edge in his voice.
“Soon, I promise. I’m not staying long, though. I’ll be there for a couple weeks before I leave for Europe,” I explained. “You need to make arrangements to come with me.”
***
I stared at the number next to the name ‘Joe’ on my screen. Marty explained that Joe didn’t have a last name – just another reason for me to feel a little freaky about using Joe to find out about Sienna. But if anyone could find out about what Sienna was up to, it would be someone in Mr. Todd’s camp.
It was the first night I’d be staying in my new home, and I felt strange walking into the dark house. Moonlight cast through the highly placed windows in the living room, but didn’t shine bright enough for me to really see anything. I had no idea where the light switches were. I turned on the flashlight feature on my phone and located the switches, turning them on. It was cold. and I searched for the heater. I slowly walked around the darkened house, turning on all the lights. and thought about Aly. I didn’t want to think about her, but I had no control. I counted down the days until she graduated. That would be the next time I’d see her.
It was early, just past 7 PM, and I made my way up the stairs and thought about the album covers I’d seen that lined Grace’s stairway wall. She must be the graphic artist that did all those covers. I had to confirm my assumption. I hopped onto the bed and kicked off my shoes, sinking into the pillows as I called Gabe.
“Jake?”
“Yeah.”
“All good?”
“Yep. I have a question. Does Grace design album covers?”
“Yes. That’s how I met her. Driving Dave Grohl to a party. Grace was there.”
Huh. “Thought so,” I said as I moved from the bed to take my pants off. “I just had dinner with her.”
“How did it go?” Argh. I rolled my eyes. Gabe sounded like a father.
“Fine.” I picked up my duffle bag and dug out a pair of sweats. “Look, I told her I was stuck on Aly. We talked about Phillip. We’re friends. I don’t want anything from her. So you can relax.”
“Good.”
I punched the speaker button and tossed the phone on the bed as I struggled with sticking my legs through my sweats. “Why didn’t you tell me she designed album covers?”
“I didn’t think of it.”
I chuckled. “Alright, man. Talk to you later.”
“Take care.”
***
Morning rolled around, and it was as if a star exploded in my face. I squinted, looking at the window as I stumbled over to it, muting the sunlight with dark grey shades. I took a piss and located my phone to check the time. It was just after 9 AM. I’d stayed up until 2 AM writing a new song, all inspired by my walk with Grace. I was stoked on the melody, and spent the morning playing around with it. I was almost tempted to name it just that – My Walk with Grace. Maybe I would.
It was Monday, and time for me to call Joe. The number rang to a factory set voicemail.
“Hey, yeah, David Todd gave me your number. I need some info on someone. Please call me.” I left my name and number.
Joe called right back, and I wasted no time in giving him Sienna’s name, last known address in Miami, and her phone number. She never did text me back, so who knew if that number was still valid. His accent was Spanish in inflection; perhaps he was Puerto Rican, I thought. I explained to Joe that I wanted to find out what Sienna was up to with her book deal, and what she’d planned to expose as the truth.
Three days later, I received a call, informing me that he had the manuscript and asking me for my address. I gave him my mom’s address. I didn’t want anyone to know where I lived. I then asked Joe how much to pay and how to get it to him, and he informed me that Mr. Todd took care of it.
My blood ran cold. I didn’t want to owe Mr. Todd anything. As if my blood running cold was a warning, two days later, Mr. Todd showed up on my doorstep. He held a copy of Sienna’s manuscript, her new address, and pictures of her and the people she was interacting with on the day they were taken—which was just a few days prior.
“Mr. Todd.” I bowed my head, forcing a smile. He totally caught me off guard, but I didn’t hesitate to invite him in, even though I was supposed to be leaving to meet Grace at the beach. “I’m a little confused as to the hand delivery, Mr. Todd. Thank you, thank you. Please, please let me repay you.”
“Jake.” Mr. Todd stepped around my living area, inspecting everything. He’d come in alone, leaving two big bodyguards outside. “I was planning a trip here anyway. I have business at Universal. I flew in early, and I’m glad I did. Your mother is a lovely woman. It took me a day to find you here. She wouldn’t give me any information about your whereabouts.”
I gulped. Why was I nervous? I didn’t do anything wrong. “You can understand.” I laughed it off.
“Of course, of course.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down, tossing the manila folder onto the coffee table. “Some interesting information in there. I didn’t read it of course, too much fluff. I had someone else read it and give me the Cliff’s Notes.”
“And?”
He eyeballed me, leaning back into the white fabric chair, crossing his legs. “You have some drama in your life. I had no idea.”
“Why would you?” I shrugged, trying to act casual, but my mouth was so dry I could have spit out cotton balls. “You want something to drink?”
“No, no. Thank you. I have to get going in a minute.”
I wanted to shout at him to spill his fucking guts. I was completely coming apart inside as he smirked at me, almost laughing, like he knew. “Mr. Todd. Thank you, but you didn’t have to do any of this…paying Joe and coming here personally to deliver that.” I pointed at the thick envelope, which was screaming for me to pick it up. “There’s nothing in that book that I’m worried about. I know I’ve
done some fucked up things, and the only person I really care about knows every sorry detail of my life.”
“That would be Alyssa Montgomery? Correct? The young lady that used to live with you.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. A curious thought popped in my head, and I decided to get personal. “Mr. Todd. Are you married?”
“Yes. I am.”
“How long?”
“Thirty-years.”
I nodded, impressed, totally not expecting that answer. “Nice. Gives me hope.” I got up, grabbed the envelope and opened it, taking out the thickly-bound paper. Pictures fell onto the table. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you for Joe’s work?”
“Yes.”
I was still curious about Mr. Todd’s life, as I stared at pictures of Sienna and what looked like her older sister, with a kid and a dude. “Do you have kids?”
“Yes. Three.” I nodded, and he got up, smiling down at me. “Only one of them is by my wife.”
I tried not to look shocked by his admission, but who knows what my face really looked like. I frowned and nodded, trying to look like I didn’t give a shit. He looked proud, and he probably thought I was that type of guy too, based on the information in the book Sienna wrote, probably confirming my affair with her. But that was different than blatantly cheating on your wife. Sure…I was just fucked up, fucking my dead best friend’s wife. Ugh – fucking loser move. I hated even thinking about it.
We said our goodbyes, and I walked him out. As he stood next to his car, he asked me one last question. “When are you going to Europe again?”
“I’m actually going in June.” After Aly graduates college.
“Good. I’ll be having Sloan join you.”
Sloan was Mr. Todd’s assistant, or some fucking thing like that. He was probably boning her. I groaned loudly after his car had pulled away. I didn’t want to object or start an argument, so I just nodded in agreement, and he told me he’d be in touch.
What the hell was that about?
Higher Octave (Heavy Influence #2.5) Page 7