California Wishes

by Casey Dawes

  Sally was offering her a new chance.

  But Sally had betrayed her.

  Mandy stood and looked at her face again, a face that was beginning to reflect the stress of a misdirected life. If she didn’t change something soon, the expression would be etched in permanently.

  Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

  Her father wanted her to give him a chance. Sally thought she should. James?

  She thought about his offer of a trip to Monterey. The break would be nice, but did he have an ulterior motive? Would he try to get her into bed?

  Did she care?

  Her reflection stared back. Yes, she did care. The only question was would she care more if he seduced her or if he didn’t even make an attempt?

  • • •

  “I can see why you’re confused,” Dr. Graham said after she told him about her father’s visit, Sally’s betrayal, James’s request, and her subsequent dream. “All of these people are asking you to take a risk. How do you feel about that?”

  “Like crawling into my bed and pulling the covers over my head.”

  He chuckled. “The reaction I would have expected.”

  “I feel like I’m in the middle of a glue pot. Every time I try to climb out, I get stuck somewhere else.”

  “How do you think you can get out?”

  Was he taking her metaphor seriously?

  “Um … I don’t know.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Why wouldn’t they give me the key?”

  “What do you mean?” Dr. Graham uncrossed and re-crossed his legs, then re-balanced the yellow legal pad.

  She’d learned over time this was a gesture he used when he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “In my dream.”

  “Well, it’s your dream. What do you think it means?”

  She could really hate therapists.

  The images of the dream replayed in her mind. “It seems to me they wanted me to come get the key, to leave all the craziness behind and simply come get it.” She picked at her slacks. “How could I do that if I was locked in a jail?”

  More silence. He was going to make her work this out on her own.

  “But it was a dream, wasn’t it? I could go through the bars if I wanted to. Nothing’s real.” She looked at him for approval.

  His expression hadn’t changed. Had she gotten it wrong?

  “And?” he finally said.

  And? What kind of a question was “and”?

  She crossed her arms and legs.

  “Think about what you just said,” he prompted.

  “Nothing’s real,” she repeated. Nothing’s real.

  “The glue isn’t real. The jail cell isn’t real. Your mother’s viewpoint on life isn’t real most of the time. From what you’ve told me she’s lived in illusions most of her life. She had to be the center of attention, and when she wasn’t, she couldn’t deal with it in a mature matter.”

  “You mean my father’s right. She ran around on him.”

  Dr. Graham shrugged. “Maybe. You’ll need to do what he suggested and talk to people who were around at that time to get to the truth.” He leaned forward. “I’ve found truth usually lies in the middle of two points of view. Maybe not directly in the center, but somewhere in the middle.”

  “You mean I should talk to Sally.” She heard the edge in her voice.

  “I think you might consider it.”

  “She betrayed me.”

  He shook his head. “Aren’t you being a little melodramatic? Would you have allowed your father to show up if you’d known about it?”

  “No.” Her answer was firm.

  “Sally must have believed you needed to hear what he had to say. She knew what you’d say, and she made a judgment call.” He leaned back in his chair. “The grown-up thing to do in this situation is to call her and confront her with your point of view. Being mad at her and telling everyone you know but her that you’re mad at her isn’t effective.”

  “And it sounds like Lola.”

  He nodded. “It echoes your mother’s behavior, although it isn’t as extreme.”

  “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Speaking of your mother,” he said. “Your test results have come back. I don’t see anything dire, and there’s no physical cause for your anxiety. However, after working with you for these months, I can guarantee you aren’t bipolar.”

  She swallowed hard. The news was impossible to process. All her life she’d been sure she was going to become a carbon copy of Lola.

  “But what’s wrong with me?”

  “I believe you have post-traumatic stress disorder—PTSD.”

  “But isn’t that something soldiers get?”

  He shook his head. “It can happen to anyone who’s had prolonged severe stress, which is what you had during your childhood.”

  “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

  He chuckled. “It’s going to take a while to process. The work we’ve been doing will help, and we’ll continue to work on boundaries and coping skills.” He checked his watch. “Anything else quick before we wrap up?”

  “What do I do about James?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  She uncrossed her legs and almost stomped on the floor in frustration. “I want to know it will all work out. We’ll fall in love and there’ll be a white picket fence and a happy ending. Just like Hallmark.” She glared at him, daring him to dispute her vision.

  He chuckled again. “No guarantees, Mandy, but how do you know if you can go through the jail bars if you don’t try?”

  “I guess I’m making two phone calls, then.”

  “I hope you are.”

  Chapter 22

  As Thanksgiving approached, traffic at the restaurant increased. The last traces of secret summer dissolved into the cool damp of early winter. Diners huddled around the heat lamps and fireplace on the restaurant porch facing the Soquel River, clinging to the last vestiges of vacation’s illusion.

  Mandy intended to call Sally, but by the time she crawled into bed each night, she was too tired to deal with the trauma of Hollywood. For all her craziness, Lola was probably right: real life was hard enough without trying to add in the preening egos and story lines of the entertainment industry.

  She and James had texted a few times, but he seemed to be busy, too, something about getting close to a new shoot. He didn’t bring up Monterey again.

  Neither did she. A slow ache was developing in her heart.

  “What time’s your shift on Thanksgiving?” Sarah asked her one morning while they were prepping breakfast for the few guests at the inn.

  “I’ve got the early shift—eleven to four,” Mandy said.

  “Okay. We’ll plan dinner for five.”

  “You don’t have to make your schedule around me.” The reply was automatic. Mandy put down her knife. Truth was she’d be devastated if Sarah and her family had Thanksgiving without her. “Scratch that.” She hugged her friend. “Thank you for arranging dinner around me.”

  “Of course.” Sarah smiled at her. “No one should be alone on Thanksgiving. Friends make family.”

  “Sometimes better than real family.”

  “Have you heard from either of your parents?”

  Mandy shook her head. “Neither one. Which is odd. I figured I’d at least hear from Lola by now. If only to repeat her annual demand that I return to New Jersey for the holidays.”

  “You could invite her here. My mother would make room at the table.”

  Mandy laughed. “Elizabeth is a saint, but I wouldn’t inflict Lola on anyone I cared for. She’d make the entire day about her. She’s always managed to find a man for the holidays, and I’m sure this year will be no different.”

  Then she realized what she’d said. She arranged fruit slices on a platter while she tossed the thought around in her mind.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked.

  “I was thin
king about Lola finding a man every holiday.” She looked up at Sarah. “If that’s her pattern now, there’s probably some truth in what Dana told me. She uses men to make herself feel wanted. Problem is, she’s so needy, she eventually drives them away.”

  “Have you called Sally?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why don’t you do it now? I can finish up.”

  Mandy checked her watch. She had time before she needed to get ready for her shift. It was about time to clear the air. “Okay.”

  She climbed the stairs to her room and sat in the rocker she’d found at a local garage sale when she and Sarah were furnishing the inn. For a few moments, she stared at the slow moving clouds out her window. Tree limbs swayed in the wind. A storm was coming.

  Mandy flicked through her contacts and dialed Sally’s number. With luck Sally would be out of cell range and she could avoid the whole conversation.

  No such luck. Sally picked up on the second ring.

  “Hi, Sally.” Mandy didn’t quite know how to bring up the subject.

  Sally blew out a breath. “Hi, Mandy. I don’t imagine you’re real happy with me right now.”

  “Not really.”

  “I figured as much. I already got an earful from James.”

  “James called you?” Mandy didn’t know whether to be pleased or pissed at James’s intrusion into her life.

  “I thought you two were communicating. I suppose I put my foot in it again. Sorry.”

  “No. No. That’s fine. I was surprised, that’s all.”

  “Mandy, I know you think it was wrong of me to tell Dana where you were, but now that I’ve met Lola again, I knew you needed to hear the other side of the story. You were living your life based on the lies Lola told you.”

  Mandy clenched the arm of the rocker and kicked the floor, sending it into a mad arc. “He’s the one who left me with her.”

  “He knew he made a mistake. He tried to change it—went to court—but it was too late. The court gave him visiting rights, but that’s all. And your mother thwarted him at every turn.”

  “How do you know all this?” Mandy gave the floor another shove.

  Sally sighed. “I’d hoped to have this conversation in person.”

  “I need to know now.”

  “Okay. I was just starting in the business when your parents came to Hollywood. Lola made her first movie, to rave reviews, but there were rumors that she was difficult on the set. Not good for a new actress.”

  “I thought she got pregnant with me.”

  “Well, that didn’t help, but she was in trouble before that happened.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No.”

  Another pause.

  “My partner and I were doing some gigs at private parties back then. Your parents attended one we did on Mulholland Drive. We used the pantry to stage some of our pans. My partner asked me to take one of the empty pans back to the kitchen, wash it, and store it. When I—”

  Sally stopped, but recovered after a few seconds. “When I went to put the pan in the pantry, I walked in on something I didn’t want to see.”

  “What?” Mandy stopped rocking.

  “Your mother was on her knees. There were two men with her. I guess you could say she was, um, servicing them.”

  Mandy gagged at the image that formed in her mind.

  “I’m sorry, Mandy, but you have to know what she was—is—like.”

  Mandy stood and began to pace. This was not the heart to heart she’d been hoping to have with Sally. The revelation was far too much information. If her father had found out, it must have devastated him.

  “Do you know if my father ever discovered her?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. He came into the kitchen as I was leaving. I must have looked at the pantry door in an odd way, because he yanked it open. I was still standing there. He looked at me with so much pain. I knew I’d never repeat anything I’d seen, and I haven’t, until now. I left the kitchen. A little while later I saw them both leave.”

  “You must have seen Dana again. I mean, you know things. Stuff that didn’t happen until after I was born. And you told me he gave you your first big film to cater. How did that happen?”

  “I ran into your father a few times after that night. Although we never spoke of it, I could tell he recognized me when he saw me.” She chuckled. “In the beginning he always got this deer in the headlights look for a second. Eventually, he figured out he didn’t have to worry and relaxed around me. He was a location manager back then, same as James is. After I bought the catering business, he made it a point to hire me whenever he could, including the first blockbuster I catered.”

  Mandy sat on her bed and stared out her window. Sally’s story shook the image Lola had planted in her mind. “Sally? Did he cheat on my mother? I have to know.”

  “As long as they were together, he was faithful.” Sally’s voice was firm. “Once she moved you back to New Jersey, he went out with a few women, but never dated anyone more than once or twice. Finally, he found someone who could heal his heart.”

  “Catherine.”

  “Yes, Catherine. She came along later—after the marriage was irretrievably broken.”

  “How do I know what you’re telling me is true?”

  “You know me. Have I ever lied to you?”

  “My father could have lied to you.” Mandy stood up again.

  “He didn’t. I was there. I saw it.” Sally cleared her throat. “One more thing. I hesitate to tell you this, because you may run into him again, but you should know everything. One of the men in the pantry was George Stubbins.”

  Mandy’s stomach clenched, and nausea rose from her belly. How could Lola have done such a thing? How could she still let Stubbins touch her? Or her daughter?

  She didn’t want to believe it, but in her heart she knew it was true.

  “You okay?” Sally asked. “This is a lot to take in. I’m glad you’re seeing a therapist. You are still seeing him, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Saying the word took as much effort as hoisting a tray of dirty dishes.

  “Forgive me for telling Dana?” Sally asked.

  She could forgive Sally for telling Dana, but what about her mother? How could she ever forgive Lola for twisting the truth and all three of their lives so badly? It was going to take time and a lot more therapy to deal with that.

  Having her father, her Hollywood father, in her life was going to change things. Dana had told Mandy he wanted to get to know her. She’d have a chance to have a piece of her family back.

  “Thank you. For being a good friend to me. And Dana,” Mandy said. “We’re okay, Sally.”

  “I’m glad.” Sally’s voice was relieved. “Does that mean you’ll consider partnering in the business?”

  Mandy laughed. The ripple of joy freed the tension from her chest. “Probably not. I’ve got my hands full here.”

  “Will you at least think it over? You’re the best movie caterer I’ve worked with in a very long time.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” She hesitated. “I’ll think about it.”

  After she hung up the phone, she rocked in her chair, contemplating the conversation she’d just had with Sally.

  Her life was opening up.

  A father and a possibility of a new career.

  Her phone rang and she glanced at the readout. James.

  Maybe a chance at love, too.

  • • •

  The day was cool, but the air was clear. Even the fog bank was so far out to sea that its smudge could barely be seen. As she drove south on Highway 1, Mandy sang to the country station she’d found, songs about new love, betrayal, and fried chicken.

  Her nerves jangled. Why had she agreed to this weekend? James had booked separate rooms for them, but anything could happen.

  Dr. Graham had encouraged her to take this risk, but to stay aware. “If you sense anything is wrong, get back in your car and go home,” he’d said.

  “
But he’s already paid for everything,” she’d wailed.

  Dr. Graham had shrugged. “His problem. You don’t have to take everyone’s woes on your shoulders. I know your mother trained you that way, but it’s not how the real world lives. Own what’s your responsibility, have empathy for others, and help when you can, but don’t take other people’s responsibilities from them.”

  So here she was, driving to Monterey, praying her Subaru would get her there. She almost had enough for a down payment for a new car. She glanced at the fading maroon paint on the hood, knowing she’d miss the station wagon, but at two hundred fifty thousand miles, she was pushing her luck.

  She pulled into the Plaza Hotel registration area, parked, and entered. She’d always wanted to stay here, but it was beyond her budget. Besides, who stayed in a hotel within driving distance of their home? Especially if their home was an inn?

  A valet service parked her car, and a bell boy helped her with her luggage to her room after she checked in. She tipped the man and closed the door before going out onto the room’s deck. Leaning against the rail, she took in the sounds and sights of the bay—foamy waves, white triangles of sail, and barking seals.

  I could get used to this.

  She glanced at her watch. James should be here soon. A flutter startled her heart.

  After grabbing her purse, she went back to the lobby where they’d agreed to meet. She pulled out her book, the latest cooking mystery from Diana Mott Davidson, and started to read.

  At least, she pretended to read. She was fascinated by the variety of people wandering through the lobby. All styles of dress, from casual beachcomber to sleek dresses that could only have come from a high-end city shop. Couples and singles, young and old.

  A shadow fell over her book.

  “People watching is a great sport,” James said.

  A smile immediately came to her lips, and she stood.

  He took a step toward her, folded her into his arms, and lightly kissed her lips. “Are you all checked in?”

  The huskiness of his voice sent a thrill through her.

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go see the aquarium.”

  They walked hand in hand down the sidewalk toward Monterey’s famous attraction. The day was blessedly sunny, and many people had come to the coast to enjoy one of the last days without rain. Bike-pedaled surreys competed with pedestrians on the wandering paths that twisted around the contorted Monterey pines. Small children scattered before them.