The Lucky One

by Caroline Overington

  ‘But don’t you have to get back to your apartment?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, the apartment is just lock-and-leave,’ she said breezily. ‘And honestly, I’ve been enjoying my time here, a guest in my own pavilion.’

  With that, she bustled me into my bedroom and started pressing on the wardrobe doors to make them pop, and immediately discovering the pile of unwashed clothes where only my shoes were supposed to be.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Eden!’ she said. ‘Why have you just been stuffing things in here? Put them in the laundry and Penelope will do them.’

  ‘I meant to sort it out.’

  ‘Of course you did,’ said Mom. She unzipped my backpack, saying: ‘Now, don’t tell me I’m going to find stale food in here.’ She peered inside and pulled back, saying: ‘Ewww!’

  ‘I know, I know,’ I said. ‘It’s the bananas from the gas station, I think.’

  ‘Take it to Penelope,’ said Mom, holding the backpack at arm’s length. ‘And then get packing. I want you back in the boarding house by four this afternoon.’

  I took the bag and loped down to the kitchen, where Penelope relieved me of it.

  Fiona came downstairs for the send-off, saying, ‘Darling Eden. We’re going to miss you round here.’

  ‘It’s certainly been an adventure,’ said Mom, following me into the kitchen.

  ‘And are you sure you’re going to be okay with the driving, Jesalyn?’ asked Fiona. ‘Briar Ridge and back in a day … that’s got to be eight, maybe nine hours.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Mom.

  ‘I am very happy to come with you if you feel like you need company.’

  Fiona was happy to come with us? My face must have given my amazement away.

  ‘Yes, I know! We’re getting on wonderfully, aren’t we?’ said Mom, clapping her hands together so her bangles jangled. ‘Finally, finally, after all these years, we’ve given up fighting!’

  ‘I never wanted to fight,’ said Fiona.

  ‘Well, anyway, it’s over. And when this place finally does get sold, we’ll never have to see each other again, will we, Fiona?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be like that, Jesalyn. We’ll always be family.’

  ‘Of course we will,’ said Mom. ‘And it’s been good being back, hasn’t it, Eden, seeing it all for one last time?’

  ‘It might not even be the last time!’ said Fiona. ‘Dad could live another ten years! People live to be a hundred these days.’

  ‘He’s not going to live to be one hundred,’ said Penelope. I turned to look at her, slicing angrily through carrots and cucumbers at the bench, and my heart broke a little bit. Penelope had taken time to absorb the news about the sale. Mom and Fiona had gone down to her cottage to see her after that stunning call from Harry Prior, taking a bunch of flowers with them, I guess as a way of apologising for how she found out. They’d explained to her that they’d no choice. There was so much debt. And this was a way of getting money out. And they’d told her that she wouldn’t have to leave immediately. She could take her time finding somewhere new … but ultimately, she’d still have to go.

  ‘Well, I hope he does,’ said Fiona.

  Mom ignored the tension in the room. She buzzed around, getting ready for the trip back to LA.

  It didn’t take long for me to get packed. I had only what I’d brought with me.

  ‘You have your phone?’ said Mom, picking up the car keys.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your laptop? And the chargers? I don’t want to have to turn around.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Well, then, let’s go.’

  We stepped out of the open bi-folds onto the deck – and there was Earl, behind the wheel of an idling truck.

  ‘Oh, it’s Earl,’ said Penelope, brow furrowed. ‘I told him you were leaving today. He must have come to say goodbye. That’s nice of him.’

  ‘Yes, so nice of him,’ said Mom, lips thin.

  ‘I’ll just go say bye,’ I called, my tone breezy and neutral. The fact that I’d been spending time with Earl wasn’t a secret. The fact that we’d fallen for each other? That was nobody’s business.

  I ran towards Earl’s truck.

  Mom moved towards our car, pressing a button on the ignition key to lift the trunk lid. Tim collapsed the handle on her suitcase.

  Earl looked at them, then at me, and said: ‘Get in.’

  ‘Get in?’

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Give me ten more minutes with you.’

  I went around the front of the truck – the engine was hot and rumbly – yanked the passenger-side door open and hauled myself up into the seat.

  Mom looked up from where she was standing near her car.

  ‘Eden!’ she called.

  It was completely out of character for me not to respond but I didn’t. I bit my lip and let Earl turn the truck, and off we went with Mom saying: ‘Eden! Where are you going? We have to leave now!’

  We rumbled away, with me looking half-anxiously and half-thrilled over my shoulder at Mom standing on the gravel drive with fists on her hips. I made the ‘ten minutes’ sign out the rear window, all ten fingers splayed, like I knew how much trouble I’d be in, and how I hoped she would forgive me.

  ‘She’s going to be mad,’ I said.

  ‘She’s always mad.’

  We drove over the cattle guard, and up the Chimney Rock Road, towards Seascape. The gatehouse was empty but the boom came up this time, so we rumbled down the palm-lined drive, finally stopping near the lagoon pool. The water was still as clear as crystal, and there was still nobody there.

  ‘Are they ever going to open this place?’ I said, but Earl ignored that.

  ‘I’m going to miss you,’ he said, and it was like he’d squeezed my heart in his fist.

  ‘I’m going to miss you, too.’

  We sat in silence for a few seconds, looking out the windscreen.

  ‘Let’s get out,’ I said quickly. I jumped down from the cabin, let the door slam, then lifted the latch on the pool gate. I kicked off my sneakers and stuck a toe in. The water was cold. We both rolled up the bottoms of our jeans and sat on the edge with our feet going white in the water.

  ‘You know, some people pay good money to put their feet in pools like this and then they have fish come and nibble the dead skin off their feet.’

  ‘Who does that?’ said Earl.

  ‘I don’t know. One of my friends posted a picture but I can’t remember where she was. Bali, maybe?’

  Earl reached over and took my hand. I turned my face towards him, and he said: ‘Okay, well then, I have a plan.’

  I looked into his eyes, feeling hopeful.

  ‘Don’t sell the estate,’ he said. ‘Put fish in the pool at the pavilion and charge people to come and have their feet chewed.’

  ‘You’re an idiot,’ I said.

  ‘It was just an idea.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Are you going to be okay?’

  ‘Of course. I’m going to be rich! And if you talk to Mom, that’s all that matters. The point is, are you going to be okay?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Eden.’

  ‘But what will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess I’ll wait for Mom to decide what she’s going to do. She says she’s going to find a place in Paso so I’ll help them move in there, and then who knows, Eden? I might end up on some other ranch around here. I might end up in Oregon. There’s plenty of places.’

  Eden. He was the only person on the estate who never ever called me Ewok.

  ‘Well, as long as you make sure you tell me before you do anything.’

  ‘Of course.’

  I stood up suddenly and wriggled out of my jeans.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Earl’s eyes were popping.

  ‘Skinny-dipping.’ I took off my top and reached behind my back, as if to get the clasp of my bra.

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Right now. You coming
or not?’

  ‘Coming,’ said Earl, jumping up. ‘Definitely coming.’

  * * *

  Mom hadn’t said anything about stopping on the way back to Briar Ridge but now, with the atmosphere in the car like ice, she suddenly wanted to stop.

  ‘There’s a new vegan place,’ she said, briskly. ‘One of my friends on Facebook posted about it. I think we should go there.’

  I used my cheery voice to say: ‘Okay!’ Mom was furious with me when I’d come back from Seascape, I assumed because I’d held her up. I’d endured a lecture about how she was now going to be driving back to Paso in the dark and did I never think about anyone but myself? But now, when we were already running late, she wanted to stop?

  It made no sense.

  ‘Apparently they’re serving actual food,’ she said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘So if they are doing that, we should go there and support them.’

  ‘You know Penelope packed a picnic?’

  ‘Yes, but is it edible?’ said Mom, rolling her eyes. ‘If I know Penelope, it will be ham sandwiches, to spite me.’

  ‘It’s cucumbers and carrots. You saw her make it.’

  ‘Okay, Eden, but my friend said we should try this place so I think we should try it,’ she snapped.

  The place was called Vegan Paradise. We spotted it beside the freeway twenty minutes before our turn-off, on the I-5S. It was softly lit, with a communal table in a doughnut shape, which had a lemon tree planted in the centre.

  ‘Now, this is the kind of place they should have on the freeway,’ said Mom approvingly. ‘Not fast food. Not grease.’

  Mom ordered a black bean taco, with a side of green beans that came exactly as fries come: upright, sprinkled with salt crystals. I ordered the bean burrito.

  Then she spat it out. The reason for the stop, I mean. Not the food.

  ‘What’s going on between you and Earl?’

  I looked up, my face arranged like maybe I had no idea what she was talking about.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Are you dating him?’

  ‘Dating him?’ I laughed and said: ‘What is this, Mom? 1980? People don’t date.’

  ‘Well, whatever, Eden,’ she said, exasperated. ‘Do you dig him, or fancy him, or whatever you say these days? I mean, what else am I supposed to make of you disappearing like that when we were just about to leave? Tell me. What is going on?’

  ‘Nothing’s going on.’

  I plucked one of her long beans out of the container and chewed. I could sense Mom trying to catch my eye but I didn’t want her to connect, so I kept my gaze down.

  ‘There better not be,’ she said, ‘because I mean, for God’s sake, Eden. He’s … Penelope’s boy.’

  My face flared with anger.

  ‘What does that even mean?’ I snapped back.

  ‘Nothing! It’s just … he’s, well, he’s Earl.’

  ‘He’s Earl meaning what? He’s the help?’

  ‘Not the help! But goodness, Eden! He’s like … you know. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. What matters is we’re done with that place now. I’ll go back tonight, make sure the money comes through. Maybe tomorrow, now we’re so late. I can stay in my apartment tonight, make the return drive tomorrow. But the main thing is to get it done. Because this agreement, it’s so important. It’s going to give you options. Real options. Private college! Maybe even an East Coast college. There’s nothing you can’t do now.’

  ‘What makes you think I want to go to an East Coast college?’

  ‘I’m just saying that now you can.’ Mom put her bamboo fork down. ‘We have no worries at all about our future, ever again. We’re set.’

  She pushed her recyclable plate to one side.

  I looked up from my burrito. What did I see in Mom’s face that day? Anxiety, mostly. And I thought I knew why: ever since Dad died, she’d seen herself as a single mom, widowed, with one daughter, and no cash. She’d been desperate for a deal that would set us up for life. And she wanted me on side. But there were risks in what she was doing because what if I turned around at twenty-two or thirty or whatever, and said: ‘Why did you sell my family estate? You had no right to do that.’

  On the other hand, if she waited, I’d turn eighteen. And then nineteen, and twenty, and maybe I’d say no, and she’d get no money. This was her last chance to secure not just my future, but her own future. And she wanted us on the same page. And we were on the same page.

  ‘I am happy,’ I said. ‘I know it wasn’t easy, finding the buyer. And I know we’re going to have an easier life now.’

  Relieved, she said: ‘Well, thank you. Finally, some recognition.’

  But that wasn’t all she said. Right before she raised her hand to call for the check, she said: ‘And anyway, it’s done. The contract is signed. We are going to be fine. All that has to happen is Owen has to shuffle off so we can get the rest of our money.’

  * * *

  ‘Eden Alden-Stowe!’

  ‘She’s baaaaack.’

  ‘We were beginning to think we’d never see you again!’

  My school friends – the Briar Ridge crew, the Broaders – gathered in my room in the redwood boarding house. Word of my return had spread through the Briar Ridge community. Mia, India, Chloe, Rachel, Remy and Piper were all sitting like cats on my bed, eager to hear where I’d been.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I come back?’ I asked.

  ‘It was the way you just ran out of here,’ said India, while bouncing on my mattress on her knees.

  ‘Like there was some emergency. And then no contact,’ said Mia.

  I tried to explain how there was no WiFi on the estate, except when you go into Paso, or Pismo, or wherever.

  ‘No WiFi?’ echoed Remy, rolling onto her back with her hands in the air like paws. ‘I would seriously die without WiFi.’

  ‘You wouldn’t die,’ said India.

  ‘I would seriously die.’

  ‘Are you going to tell us why you had to rush out?’

  ‘It wasn’t anything,’ I said, unzipping my bag. ‘Family stuff.’

  ‘Are your parents getting divorced?’ asked Mia.

  ‘OMG, Mia,’ said India, rolling her eyes.

  ‘What?! What did I say?’ said Mia, looking around.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Her dad’s passed,’ hissed India.

  Mia looked embarrassed.

  ‘Well, I went to New York City last weekend,’ said Remy, ‘and it was freaking freezing.’

  ‘Shut up,’ said Piper. ‘I want to hear Eden’s news.’

  ‘No news,’ I said, sliding the wardrobe door open to stuff my backpack inside.

  ‘But you must have done something. You must have been somewhere. You’ve been gone ages!’

  ‘Three weeks,’ I said. ‘That’s not ages.’

  Mia leapt up, grabbed me by the waist and pulled me onto the bed, saying: ‘Tell all, Eden Alden-Stowe!’

  ‘Stop,’ I said, pulling loose. I wasn’t upset, only uncertain. ‘It was boring stuff. Some people want to buy our estate but we can’t even sell it at the moment so it was all a lot of drama about nothing.’

  ‘You’re so boring,’ said Mia, pouting. ‘I thought it would be something exciting.’

  One by one, my friends peeled away, back to their own rooms or at least their own beds, until only Piper remained.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Spill.’

  I couldn’t think how to put it in words so I fetched my phone with photographs of Earl.

  ‘Hot!’ said Piper, grabbing it.

  ‘I’ve known him, like, forever,’ I said. ‘We kind of grew up together. His mom was our housekeeper. They live in a cottage on our estate. Is that weird?’

  ‘Totally weird,’ said Piper, ‘but still totally hot. I love the hat! Is he actually a cowboy?’

  ‘He doesn’t ride a horse, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Is he hung like a horse?’
<
br />   ‘Shut up.’

  ‘I notice you didn’t say no.’

  ‘Shut up!’

  I went to snatch the phone back but Piper kept it slightly beyond my reach, flicking through more and more of the images – moving fast through the ones that showed only Alden Castle, on to those that showed Earl, shirtless by the pool.

  ‘Hot, hot, hot,’ she said. ‘What else have you got? Any nudes? Any dick pics?’

  ‘Don’t be gross,’ I said, trying to snatch my phone back.

  ‘Is he asking you for nudes?’

  ‘You mean since I left? Of course he hasn’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘There’s no service.’

  ‘That’s wild. You’re going to see him again when?’

  ‘I don’t even know.’

  All I knew was that I missed him. And worse, I had no real way of contacting him. Earl had a phone and he knew how to text, of course, and how to get service, and yet I didn’t hear from him. That confused and hurt me. We had promised to stay in touch and I’d heard nothing.

  Of course I could have texted him, but who knew when he’d even get the message? Also, shouldn’t he text first?

  I didn’t call, I didn’t text and neither did he. So a painful stalemate developed. I tried to put him out of my mind. It wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty to do once I got back to Briar Ridge: we had two long hikes into the San Jacinto Mountains, for ecology; and two trips into the village, for art supplies; and preparations for debate night. And so a week went by, and then two weeks, and then three, and then three-and-a-half, all with no contact.

  And then one day, I was sitting with my feet up against the wall in one of the common areas when Briony from the front office came through the door, saying: ‘Eden? It’s your mom.’

  Mia was first to react, saying: ‘What, not again?’

  I said: ‘She’s back?’

  Briony shook her head, saying: ‘No, no, she’s on the phone. Can you come with me?’

  She was on the phone, as in the school phone? Not on my phone? Not on Skype? Because that had been her pattern since I’d left the estate: Mom would go into Paso on Sundays, and she’d call me, or Skype me, from there, mainly to complain about how slowly things to do with the sale were moving.