The Wives of Beverly Row 1: Lust Has a New Address

by Weeks, Abby

  Ariel looked at Zola over in the pool and saw that her hair was all messed up and her makeup was running. Zola didn’t look too happy about it but she was putting on a brave face. Ariel recognized that face. It was a look people had when they were trying to act happier than they felt. Her own fourteen years of marriage had taught her all about that.

  Jake pulled Zola toward him and kissed her hungrily on the mouth, showing all his friends what a willing, happy wife he had. It made Ariel sick that everyone was just watching, letting Jake treat Zola like a possession. She thought Hank Roycroft might say something but he didn’t look like he was going to do anything. He just sat there looking foolish, sipping his beer.

  When Jake finally stopped ramming his tongue down Zola’s throat she began to climb the steps out of the pool. She looked a little shaken up.

  As she was climbing the steps, Jake grabbed her by the back of her bikini bottoms and pulled her back into the water. He sounded like a petulant boy as he did it, laughing stupidly.

  Zola was coughing when she resurfaced. She caught Ariel’s eye and Ariel knew exactly how she felt. She felt powerless. To a casual observer it might look like Jake was just being playful, splashing around with his wife in the pool, but Ariel could tell that there was more going on. He was bullying Zola, showing her that he was the boss and using his strength to push her around. He was the kind of rich guy who liked to marry poor women so that he could lord it over them and treat them like he owned them. He was also doing it in front of an audience which made the whole thing doubly humiliating for his wife and he knew it.

  While Zola was still coughing on the water she’d swallowed, Jake grabbed her and started kissing her again. He reached up and grabbed her boobs and squeezed them. It was awful to watch. Ariel looked at Hank Roycroft. The man was a coward, he wasn’t even looking in the direction of the pool. He seemed to be studiously ignoring Jake’s display. Veronica and Trudy were watching but with a sort of meekness that told Ariel everything she needed to know. They were as scared of Jake and his buddies as Zola was. They weren’t going to stand up to him. This was his house and he held all the power. The way his buddies were strutting around the patio made it clear they felt the same way.

  As Zola was climbing the steps out of the pool for a third time, Jake did exactly what he’d done before. He grabbed her by the back of her bikini bottoms and again yanked her back into the pool with a splash. His laugh grated on Ariel so badly she wanted to punch him.

  Ariel looked across the pool. Becky was still sitting on the diving board with the Roycroft’s son and she was watching everything. Ariel didn’t want Becky to think this sort of thing was okay. She didn’t want her daughter growing up thinking men could act like pigs around women, treating them however they wanted for their own amusement. For her daughter’s sake, Ariel knew she couldn’t just stand by and watch this display any longer. She didn’t care if it meant being ostracized from her new community of neighbors. She didn’t care if it meant mortally embarrassing herself and her daughter. She didn’t even care if it made Zola hate her. She knew what she had to do.

  In Ariel’s view it was important to stand for things, it was important to stand up for yourself and for others, even if it was socially awkward, and that’s what she did.

  “Hey,” she said, calling across the patio to Jake. “Stop that.”

  Jake stared back at her, a look of complete surprise on his face. All his friends looked at her too and the humor in their faces vanished. Ariel actually felt intimidated by them.

  “What did you say?” Jake said.

  “Yeah,” one of the buddies said. “What did you just say?”

  Ariel looked at the man. All of a sudden he didn’t look quite so friendly. Then she looked straight at Jake.

  “I said, stop that.”

  Jake lifted his hands into the air as if Ariel had pointed a gun at him. He was mocking her. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “I’m just having a little fun.”

  Everyone was looking at her now, even Becky. Ariel felt a flush of embarrassment. She had to steady her breathing. “No you’re not,” she said. “You’re being mean.”

  “Jesus,” Jake said.

  He instinctively looked to his buddies for support. It was clear that none of them approved of Ariel’s interference.

  “Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that in my own house?”

  “Becky,” Ariel said. “Come on, honey. We’re going home.”

  Zola got out of the pool and this time Jake didn’t stop her. He was too shocked at being called out on his behavior. He wasn’t used to it and he didn’t know quite how to react. Over at the patio table, Trudy and Veronica were staring in shock. They certainly hadn’t expected anything like this to happen. Ariel imagined it would be the talk of the party after she left. She also imagined that she’d just blown her chances of ever having a social life with these people but she didn’t care. If this was the way they treated women then she didn’t want to have anything to do with them.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jake said again. “What a bitch!”

  Ariel was already halfway through the kitchen. Becky and Zola were both running after her.

  “Mom,” Becky called, “what was all that about?”

  Ariel turned and faced Zola. There was a moment of silence when neither woman knew that to say. Then Ariel spoke.

  “I’m really sorry I created such a scene and I’m really sorry I spoiled your party.”

  Zola said nothing. She just stared at Ariel as if she was the strangest person she’d ever seen. Ariel looked at her for a second longer.

  “I’ll have Becky come over with the bathing suits tomorrow.”

  Zola still said nothing, she just looked at Ariel and Ariel honestly didn’t know if Zola was going to cry or scream at her. She just wanted to get out of there. She felt bad for Zola. She knew that creating a scene like that might have been the worst thing she possibly could have done. Interfering in other people’s marriages was not something Ariel made a habit of and she knew that Jake might take it out on Zola. She prayed she hadn’t made things worse for her. Zola was the one who had to live with Jake.

  As she hurried down the driveway, Becky chasing after her, Zola standing at the door watching them leave, tears began to fall down her face. She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch somebody. She wanted to punch Jake Medeiros and every other man who thought he could push women around.

  VII

  ZOLA STOOD AT HER KITCHEN window and looked out. She was looking at Ariel’s house. Two days had passed since the pool party and it seemed to Zola that Ariel had spent all that time in her garden. She’d planted hollyhock, California lilac, baby blue eyes and so many poppies that her backyard was beginning to resemble a meadow from a Monet painting.

  “Honey, have you seen my cufflinks?”

  Jake was getting ready for some big meeting at work. He was trying to get funding to grow his business and a group of investors from Silicon Valley had flown down to hear him pitch. He was nervous.

  “They’re by the sauna. You left them there the other night.”

  “Run up and grab them for me, will you?”

  Zola did as she was told.

  “I just hope they like the idea,” he said as she came back down the stairs. “There’s a lot of potential for an app like this. There’s nothing like it on the market. Imagine the possibilities.”

  “It’s a great idea, honey,” Zola said.

  “It could revolutionize marriages.”

  Zola nodded. Jake was standing by the counter. She gave him his cufflinks and helped him close them. Then she filled his travel mug with fresh coffee and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You’re the most successful developer in the city,” she said.

  “These guys from San Francisco, though, they’re playing at a different level.”

  Zola smiled and nodded and watched Jake leave. She knew that she should care more about Jake’s business ventures, they were what supported her and her l
ifestyle, but it seemed like every month there was a new deal that he was all stressed about. He really wasn’t as confident and cocky as he pretended. That’s what made him act out the way he did. And that was also why he was so angry with Ariel for the way she’d called him out at the party. He’d gone on and on about it after she’d left. Zola thought he might even go over to Ariel’s house and start a fight with her. She was relieved he hadn’t.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and looked out the window some more. Ariel had really done a nice job with the garden. Zola smiled to herself. Good for her, she thought.

  She crossed the kitchen and got a cast-iron skillet from beneath the stove. She poured half a cup of coarse cane sugar onto the surface and began to heat it up with a little butter. She stirred the sugar over a low heat until it began to melt into a delicate caramel. As it melted she grabbed half a dozen eggs from the fridge and cracked them into a mixing bowl. She beat them lightly with a whisk, folding in some more sugar, whole milk, and a special vanilla essence that her mother had brought from Mexico. She grabbed an orange and grated a little zest into the mixture and leaned over to smell it. The orange mixed with the vanilla always reminded her of her childhood. This was the recipe her mother had used to make flan on her birthdays as a child. Something about it made her feel happy and safe. She took the skillet from the heat and poured the caramel into a molded pan and swished it around, coating the mold. She poured the egg mixture in on top of the carmel and put it in the oven.

  *

  ZOLA FELT A LITTLE NERVOUS as she walked up to Ariel’s front door with the flan on a tray in front of her. When Ariel opened the door, Zola just stood there, looking up at her.

  “Zola,” Ariel said, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know,” Zola said, “I just, I wanted to bring you something.”

  “Oh,” Ariel said, taking the tray, “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did,” Zola said.

  Ariel looked at the flan and inhaled the fragrance of it. “This looks really delicious. You have to come in and have a slice with me.”

  “Oh, I didn’t want to intrude,” Zola said. “I just wanted to drop this off and say thank you for what you did the other day.”

  *

  ARIEL WAS SO SURPRISED AND relieved she almost burst into tears. She’d felt certain that she’d blown her chances of having any kind of friendship with Zola and her other neighbors after what she’d done at the party. Now, here was Zola with a fresh flan, thanking her for what she’d done. Ariel felt so much relief it overcame her.

  She gathered herself and led Zola through to the kitchen and put some water on for coffee.

  “I’m really sorry I created that scene at your house the other day,” Ariel said.

  “Don’t apologize,” Zola said. “I’ve been married to Jake for two years. I couldn’t tell you the amount of times he’s tried to humiliate me in front of people. He’s done some things that would really shock you, Ariel. And do you know how many times someone said something to him about it? Exactly zero.”

  Ariel nodded. “Well, I’ve been feeling horrible about it. It’s really not like me to create a scene like that, especially at someone’s home. I’ve had knots in my stomach over it.”

  “Well, you really shouldn’t. You did the right thing. It’s the others who should feel bad. You stood up for me and that took a lot of courage. My husband’s a bully and he’s never been an easy man to live with.”

  “And I was afraid I might have made that worse by what I’d done.”

  “Nonsense,” Zola said. “It did Jake a world of good to hear that. He might not have liked what you said but I’ve noticed that he’s been a little bit easier to live with since you stood up to him.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “Not completely better, but enough to make a difference.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I’m glad too,” Zola said, smiling.

  Ariel got up and made the coffee and served it with two slices of Zola’s flan.

  “Thank you so much for bringing this over.”

  “My mother’s recipe.”

  “It’s delicious,” Ariel said, and it really was. “Was the party ruined after I left?”

  “Sort of,” Zola said, “but that wasn’t your fault. It was my husband’s. And besides, I hate it when his buddies come over.”

  “He said they’re business partners.”

  “They’re not business partners,” Zola said, a serious look crossing her face. “They’re anything but that.”

  “Who are they, then?”

  “Well, let’s just say, they’re involved in the same sort of practices that my husband likes to get involved with.”

  “What sort of practices?” Ariel said. She knew she was being nosy but Zola had made her curious.

  “Oh no,” Zola said, raising her hands and shaking her head. “I have to be very drunk before I’ll talk about all that crap.”

  Ariel nodded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Zola said. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go out for a drink tonight and I’ll talk. I’ll tell Trudy and Veronica. It will be a better chance for you to get to know them, since the party was such a fail!”

  VIII

  ARIEL LOOKED AT HERSELF IN the hall mirror one last time.

  “I’ll be back by ten, Becky.”

  Becky was setting herself up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bunch of romance movies.

  “Sure, mom. Have fun.”

  Ariel took a deep breath as she stepped out of the house. Zola was waiting in the driveway in a white convertible Mercedes. Ariel hopped into the seat next to her.

  “So where are we going?” she said.

  She was surprised at how excited she was to be going out for a few drinks with the girls. She’d spent two whole days thinking that her entire neighborhood hated her. She was delighted that Zola and the other women still wanted to be her friend.

  “We’re just going to pick up Trudy and Veronica and head into Hollywood. Is that cool?”

  “Perfect,” Ariel said as she put on her seatbelt.

  Zola had a funny way of driving. Trudy Luxton’s house was barely a hundred yards from the end of Ariel’s driveway but Zola lunged the convertible forward at a high speed before immediately jamming on the brakes. The tires actually squeaked as they came to a halt.

  Ariel loved the look of Trudy’s home. It was modern with a lot of polished white concrete and large windows.

  “Nice place,” she said as Trudy hopped into the back of the car.

  “All in my settlement,” Trudy said and laughed.

  “Trudy had one of the best divorce lawyers in LA,” Zola said. “Apparently he worked for Robyn Moore when she broke up with Mel Gibson.”

  “Wow,” Ariel said.

  “Twenty-two years I was married to the son of a bitch,” Trudy said.

  “Wow,” Ariel said again, “You hardly look old enough.”

  “I was eighteen when we got hitched. Biggest mistake of my life.”

  “Tell her how old he was,” Zola said as she pulled down Veronica Roycroft’s driveway.

  “Fifty-six.”

  “Holy cow,” Ariel said. “I hope you got every penny you could out of him.”

  “I got what I deserved,” Trudy said. “You have no idea how humiliating it is to be divorcing a seventy-eight-year-old. The whole court looked at me like a hooker. But after twenty-two years I’m ready to make up for lost time.”

  “She’s not kidding,” Zola said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, you’ll see at the bar,” Zola said. “Trudy doesn’t waste any time.”

  “I spent my entire youth sleeping with an old man. I can’t believe I did it. Now I’m getting what I wanted all along.”

  “Young men?” Ariel said, trying to keep back laughter.

  “Young cock!” Trudy said. “And lots of it.”

  “Trudy
!” Zola said.

  “Well, you brought it up.” Trudy shook her hair back. “That’s right girls. I’m a cougar and proud of it.”

  “She’s already made her way through half the pool boys, paper boys and garden boys within a ten mile radius,” Zola said.

  “And believe me, I’m going to make my way through the other half too. Just watch me.”

  All three of them were laughing when Veronica climbed into the backseat next to Trudy.

  “What did I miss?” Veronica said.

  “Zola was just filling Ariel in on my sexual preferences,” Trudy said.

  “Oh no,” Veronica said, “and we haven’t even started drinking. I can already tell where this night is headed.”

  *

  THEY PULLED UP OUTSIDE A very trendy looking place on Melrose called Plush Palace. Zola threw the keys to the valet and the four women walked into the bar like they meant business. More than one set of eyes rose to meet them as they came in. It was a weeknight but the place was busy. There were more than enough men for each of them to have her pick if she wanted. The décor was opulent and seemed to have been selected with the palace of Versailles in mind. Huge crystal chandeliers hung over the mahogany bar.

  The hostess brought them to a table and told them their waitress would be right with them.

  “Nice place,” Ariel said. “Do you three come here a lot.”

  “Not a lot,” Veronica said. “Just every once in a while when we feel we have some business to attend to.”

  “And is there business to attend to tonight?”

  “Oh no,” Veronica said, “We just wanted to get to know you a little better. Since you’re new to the neighborhood.”

  Trudy looked up. “I wanted to say I thought what you did the other day at Zola’s was very brave.”

  Ariel didn’t know what to say. She was a little embarrassed. “It was really nothing,” she said.

  “We all know what it was,” Trudy said, “and it was not nothing.”

  Ariel looked awkwardly at Zola.

  “But we also wanted to have a good time, right girls?” Zola said.