I ended up out in the yard with Davis and Gavin. They were passing a ball and talking, an easy back and forth.
“Chipmunk, you want in?” Davis asked, gesturing at the ball. He threw it underhand to me, and I managed to catch it. I had many skills, including Pig Latin and blowing bubbles inside bubbles with my gum, but playing football was not one of them. I threw to Gavin and it went ten feet to his left, spinning wildly end over end.
“What are you doing?” Davis asked me.
“Throwing the old pigskin.”
“That was the worst throw I’ve ever seen. In all my years playing football.”
“Well, that means something, right? You’ve seen a lot of bad throws.” I patted myself on the back. “It’s nice to stand out.”
“Gavin.” Davis held out his hands and Gavin threw it right to him. Making it look easy. “How are you holding it?” He showed me his grip, then handed the ball to me. I tried to put my fingers in the same place.
“Look at your hands. It’s like a toddler holding the ball.”
I tossed it to him. “Could a toddler do this?” I went into a handstand and walked a little, which was so, so much easier when I wasn’t wearing a fur suit.
“Probably,” Davis told me. “And probably also throw better than you.”
“If you weren’t already injured, I’d make you pay for that.”
He shook his head. “Come here.” I stood, my back to his chest, his hand over mine on the ball. He put his other hand on my hip. “Like this. This is the motion. Ready? Next one, we’re going to throw it.” We did, and it landed right in the middle of Gavin’s chest.
Davis stayed where he was. “Feel that, chipmunk? Just like that, every time.” He gathered up my hair with one big hand and put it over my shoulder. “You nervous?”
I had thought I was covering it pretty well. “What?”
“Are you nervous about this party?”
Oh, the party. “I guess I am, a little. I haven’t entertained for a while. Not that this is my party, not that it’s even a party really, but still.”
“You should have invited more people that you know.”
I was going to get my grandma and bring her over, but she and Sam were the only ones on my personal guest list besides Lindy and Logan. “Maybe another time.”
“This was supposed to be for you, too.”
I twisted around to look at Davis. “What do you mean?”
“What did it sound like? I thought you’d enjoy having friends over, swimming, you know.”
I had missed that. That he was doing this for me. How had I missed that?
“I thought you might want to invite that guy you’re seeing. Marvin.”
“Mason. No, I didn’t want to.” We were still texting, friendly stuff back and forth. That was as far as it was going.
Gavin threw the ball at us, and Davis caught it. He pulled me back closer to him. “I can’t have you embarrassing me, throwing the ball like that. We’re going to have to do some drills.”
I leaned back against him. It was fine with me.
Chapter 11
Everything was going well. People were eating and drinking, laughing and having fun. My grandma was involved in a lively conversation about Japanese ukiyo-e artists with the Woodsmen center, a very well-spoken, kind of shy guy. The food was delicious, Davis was finally sitting down and off his knee, and I could relax.
Things had not started with a bang. Davis’ relationship with the guests had become clear, as the select group of Woodsmen that he had invited started to show up, sometimes with their wives and girlfriends (including one or two Woodsmen Dames whom they were not supposed to date). When Davis had said they were teammates only, well, he meant it. They were not friends. The guests came in looking around as if they were Mason Whitaker at an art show or something: cautiously interested, definitely uncomfortable, unsure of what to say. You could have heard a pin drop.
This was where Gavin had been awesome. He knew everyone too from his years on the Woodsmen, and as both of us circulated, things started to loosen up. Davis was not exactly an easygoing host. His bone-deep stare when people spoke to him didn’t really encourage small talk. When Cesar got there, and a few other guys that he seemed to know better, I started to see him smile. Even do his funny laugh once or twice.
I talked to almost everyone there, including the two cheerleaders, who were much friendlier to me than they ever had been in the locker room. “I’m just helping Davis until his knee is healed, which should be soon,” I said a thousand times. “He’s better every day.” That along with, “Yes, I’m really Nutty. No, the mascot.”
Lindy was running around so much I got worried. “I’m fine, Katie! I’m working!” she told me an hour or two into the party when I asked if she had taken a break yet.
I grabbed her arm and forced her butt into a lounge chair. “Sit for five minutes. Put your feet up, as a favor to me. Think of…” I eyed her stomach significantly.
“You sound like Logan.”
“Because we both love you,” I said. I planted myself on the foot of her chair for a while to enforce the resting.
“You did a good job with this,” Lindy said, nudging me with her foot.
“I didn’t do very much. You guys are doing all the cooking.”
“Whatever. I know it was a lot of work. Arranging the flowers alone must have taken you forever.”
I looked around the deck. It did look nice. With Davis’ lack of home goods and kitchenware, I had been on some major shopping sprees to get everything we needed. Things like glasses for people to drink from and more than two spoons. He just kept saying, “If we need it, buy it.” And I really had.
“Davis looks like he’s enjoying himself,” she pointed out.
We both looked at him talking to the cornerback. “He does, right?” I smiled in his direction.
My phone rang again in my pocket and out of habit I checked, then put it quickly away.
Lindy was watching me. “Was that Taryn? It’s about that time, right?”
I nodded. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Maybe she won’t need to do the whole deal this year.”
“Maybe you don’t need to do the whole deal this year,” Lindy told me.
“Maybe.”
“Ladies.” Gavin sat down next to us as well. “Everything was delicious,” he complemented Lindy.
“Did you have any of the balsamic grilled vegetables?” she asked him. “Go get some if you didn’t. Logan does such a good job.”
Gavin patted his stomach. “Stick a fork in me. I can’t have another bite. Lindy, do you have any business cards? Someone was asking me who did the catering.” He started talking to her about some ways to drum up her business and I saw potential trouble brewing on the other side of the lawn.
“I’ll be right back,” I told them.
“That’s just a dumbass idea,” Sam was saying loudly to a guy at least twice his size as I approached. “You idiots are the Woodsmen. Get it? The name, genius? See why the Hank the Hunter makes sense? While you’re running around crashing into each other and losing games, somebody has to entertain the fans. That’s where I come in.”
I stepped between him and the big guy just as they both took a step towards each other. “Woah, ok, Sam, how about you get something to eat? I heard the vegetables are great.” I put my arm through his and dragged him away. “What’s the matter with you?” I hissed. “Are you trying to start a fight? That guy could pulverize you with his thumb. And it’s my party, so don’t mess it up!”
“This is Davis Blake’s party. Did you forget?”
“I meant, I invited you, so you represent me. Clean it up, Sam. Are you drinking on your pain meds or something?”
He muttered a phrase or two under his breath that I was glad I didn’t hear, and yanked his arm away from mine. I watched him for a while to make sure he wasn’t going to reignite the issue, and then I meandered over to where Davis was sitting in one of his Adirondack chairs. He patted the c
hair’s wide arm, and I plopped down next to him.
“Cesar is explaining why I need to get a boat of my own,” he told me. “Even though I don’t know how to sail them.”
“Better for him to buy one than for me to do it. We all know about his last contract,” Cesar explained. He put his hands as wide as he could stretch them. “Get my meaning?”
“I could teach you if you want to learn,” I told Davis. I watched Lindy heading back into the kitchen, rest time over. Gavin joined us. “Sailing is so fun, and you’re so lucky to live here on the water. I keep feeling like you should use it more.”
“Listen to Katie. She’s always right,” Cesar said.
“It’s true,” I admitted. “I don’t know how he knows that, but it’s true. I’m one hundred percent correct, one hundred percent of the time. Gavin, did you get out on the lake a lot when you lived here?”
“Not as much as I should have. I’m not a strong swimmer, but I’m learning. Christian says…” He swallowed and forged ahead. “Christian wants us to go on a scuba trip, so I have to up my swim game.”
“Who’s that?” Davis asked him.
“Uh, my boyfriend.” Gavin looked like he was ready to jump up and bolt.
“Huh,” Davis said. “Where are you going to go diving?”
And that was it. Cesar never even blinked, either. I got the feeling that Davis wasn’t as emotionally unintelligent as Gavin had believed. At least, he wasn’t blind to his friend’s heart. I patted Davis on the shoulder, and still listening to Gavin discuss Roatan, he slid his arm around my waist and leaned me against his side.
As it got dark the guests got a little wilder. We had a fire going to make s’mores in a big firepit I’d had installed on the beach and all the action had gravitated down there. People had been swimming, getting in and out of the water, but now they were going in with their clothes on, having water fights, getting louder. I watched from the shore, wondering at what point the neighbors were going to hear and get mad. Davis had a lot of property, but sound amplified over the lake.
“Got you!” An arm came under my knees and I was swept off the ground.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Cesar, put me down!”
“Oh, I intend to.”
He walked us out into the lake.
“Not funny. I don’t have a suit on!” I had ditched my phone inside to avoid more calls, but still, I didn’t want to get wet. “Come on, take me back to the beach!”
“One, two…”
I was opening my mouth to say no when he dunked us both under. I came up sputtering. “Jesus!” Cesar was laughing his head off and I shoved him back down into the water. “Thanks, thanks a lot!” I was midway between laughing and angry—I was trying to make a good impression on these people, after all, and not look like a drowned rat, but he did get me pretty good. Cesar swam away, since he had his bathing suit on, and I made my way onto the shore.
Davis was there. Looking extremely pissed.
“Why the fuck did he just do that?” he demanded.
“You’ll have to ask Cesar. I think he was trying to be funny.” I pushed back my dripping hair and shivered in the breeze. Wet clothes were not as fun as they sounded.
Davis pulled the towel off his shoulder and draped it around me. “Go dry off.”
Why was he frowning at me? This certainly hadn’t been my idea.
Most of the guests seemed to think that jumping in fully clothed was now the way to go, and soon almost everyone was in the water. This also signaled the end of the evening, because as I said, wet clothes just didn’t make you feel like partying. I passed out the extra towels I’d purchased to everyone, fixed my hair as best I could, and started saying goodnight and thank you for coming as they trickled out.
Cesar approached me very nervously. “Uh, Katie?” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry. That was disrespectful to you. And to Davis.”
“To Davis?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have tossed you in.”
“That’s ok. I’m willing to overlook it, one time and one time only.”
He relaxed. “Great. Thanks. Can you let Davis know?”
“Uh, ok. Why?”
Cesar looked in the direction of where Davis was planted, watching us, his face as hard as Mount Rushmore. “He wasn’t very happy with me. I prefer not to be on his bad side. Messing with you is going to get me there, so I’m done.” He put out his hand and I shook it.
“I’ll let him know. No hard feelings.”
I took off my wet shirt and put on one of Davis’ old sweatshirts when everyone was gone, and twisted my hair up into a knot on my head. Logan was working in the kitchen, cleaning up, and I went to help him.
“Where’s Lindy?” I asked, rolling up my sleeves.
He smiled and pointed at a chair in the family room, where she was curled up, asleep. “I usually wouldn’t let her conk out on the job. It’s what some people consider unprofessional, but I’m thinking you’ll overlook it.”
“Given that she’s currently producing my niece or nephew, yeah, it’s ok with me.” I smiled at him. With Davis and Gavin helping too, it didn’t take us too long to straighten up.
“Davis, are you cleaning?” Gavin asked him, honestly shocked.
Davis looked up from where he was gathering up glasses. “I’m not a total fuckup, Gavin. I do understand what a mess is.”
“That’s news to me,” his friend told him, and Davis pegged him with a wad of napkins. He really could throw well.
“Remember the parties your mom had in Malibu?” Gavin asked. “We went once or twice in college,” he explained to me and Logan. “I’ve never seen anything like those things.”
Davis just shrugged. “I hated them.”
“Remember the guy brought the tiger?” Gavin recalled. “It scared the shit out of me.”
“A tiger? Are you kidding?” I asked, staring from him to Davis. “What kind of party was this?”
“My mother likes to entertain. She also wants the attention from the press.” Davis was limping a little as he walked into the kitchen. He had been on his feet too much.
“The press? Is she somebody famous?” Logan asked.
“Not really.”
“Davis, come on,” Gavin cajoled him. “If you know anything about art, you know about Celeste Beaulieu.”
I stared. “Your mom is Celeste Beaulieu? The sculptor, the one who does those giant installations? I had no idea!”
“I told you she was an artist. That’s why I sent her the pictures of your paintings.” Davis was frowning.
“I didn’t understand the import of what you were saying. She’s major in the art world!” She had also been a major Hollywood party girl, back in the day. She’d had a weird nickname, I remembered.
“She didn’t bother to answer me about them, so don’t get too excited,” he said, his voice too low for anyone else to hear. “I’m going to bed,” he announced louder, and he left.
“That was my fault,” Gavin said. “I’m sorry I brought her up. He doesn’t like to talk about his mom. A lot of people gave him a hard time in high school and college about being Starship’s son.”
That was what it was. She’d been nicknamed after a bar/club she had practically lived in. “Do they not get along?” I asked him curiously.
Gavin just threw up his hands. “They like each other just fine, but Celeste she was never that interested in having Davis as her son. If he had wanted to make movies, or design clothes, or even if he was in and out of drug rehab, he would have fit in a lot better into her world. She loves him, but they have nothing in common.”
I remembered what Davis had said about his family not coming to see him play. “That’s too bad.”
“No,” Gavin told me. “I think it was the best thing that ever happened to him.” He grinned at me. “Until lately.”
∞
I tried to steel myself in the car on the way over to see Taryn. We went through this every year, at least twice: once o
n Julian’s birthday in June, and once on the date of his death, in September. Every once and a while another major life event would trigger her. Last year it had been Christmas, and that had been hard.
It had been a fun week with Gavin but he had left the day before. I could see why he and Davis got along so well—I liked him a lot, too, and I was sorry to see him go, but I was looking forward to it being just the two of us. But almost immediately after Gavin left, Davis had flown downstate to see the doctor who had operated on his knee in order to assess the progress. I was waiting to hear how the appointment had gone.
I pulled up in front of the Greenes’ lakeside home. When I had first met Julian when I was fourteen, theirs was the biggest house I had ever seen. They’d had cars and ATVs and speedboats and every kind of gadget under the sun, too. They traveled and ate out at nice restaurants and bought whatever they wanted. I had been a little overwhelmed by how they lived. It seemed a transcendent existence compared to the world I was inhabiting.
Julian had been sick, as a kid. What happened in high school was a relapse, a long, downward spiral to his eventual death. Maybe that was why Taryn, his mom, had been unable to deal with it when it recurred, to even really process what was happening to him. I thought that maybe she had expended all her ability to handle his illness back when he was a child, when he had first been diagnosed. She had nothing left to fight with when he needed her again.
I didn’t bother to knock on the front door. I just let myself in and went upstairs to her bedroom, where I knew I’d find her. The house looked impeccable as always, and just as cold and devoid of any humanity as ever. I would choose Davis’ messes over this place any day.
The Checkdown Page 15