The California Club: LoveTravel Series - USA

by Belinda Jones

  'Have you tried cutting off the electricity?'

  'I've thought about it!' Sasha laughs.

  'So what are you doing in the evening? It must be weird now it's just the two of you.'

  'Well, last night I cooked then he read a book while we ate and as soon as he was done he went to bed.'

  'What about you?'

  'I was knackered but I couldn't sleep. Since you've gone I've spent most of my time trying to work out how I could raise some cash for Paradise Park. I'm sure if I could find a way to contribute he'd show me a bit more respect.'

  'You reckon?'

  'Well, maybe not but I'd at least feel I'd proved something to myself. I want to be able to leave here knowing I made a difference, however small.'

  'What did you have in mind?'

  'Well, that's the problem. I desperately need to talk to Zoë, she's got far more experience of the organizational side of these things. The charity events I've done were no different to any other catwalk show, we just didn't get paid so I'm really none the wiser.'

  'When were you thinking of doing this?'

  'I thought the day after The California Club week is up.'

  'That's just four days from now!'

  'I know. I was hoping Zoë could give me some short-cuts.'

  'I guess the main thing is that you've got to think of a good enough hook to get them along in the first place.' I decide. 'Once they see the cats they'll start writing the checks.'

  'Mmm, I've had a few thoughts but I don't know how practical they are. I know The California Club said all communication had to go through you but I was wondering …'

  'Oooh you little rebel!' I tease. 'Are you after Zoë's phone number?'

  'Would it hurt? I mean, in the grand scheme of things, which is more important – helping those tigers or obeying a pointless rule?'

  'We don't know that it's pointless,' I point out.

  'I wouldn't abuse it,' Sasha insists. 'Maybe if you primed her and then the next day I gave her a call? Or she could even pass any information through you? There's got to be a way round it.'

  'I guess one phone call won't do any harm,' I concede. It's so great to hear Sasha fired up about something, the last thing I want to do is put a dampener on proceedings. 'I'll call her now.'

  Sasha whoops with gratitude. 'Thanks, Lara! Ryan will thank you for this!'

  Following her success with Boris's grandson Zoe is raring to take on another project and promises to devote all her time in between serving blue plate specials to the cause!

  I smile to myself: happy to be in on it to some degree. But my pleasure is short-lived. I have to phone Elise.

  'Oh Lara, I was hoping you'd call.' Instead of her usual impatient bluster, she sounds pensive and unsure. 'Would you say you're Elliot's closest friend out of the group?'

  'Er …' I falter.

  'I know he's close with Helen but the way he talks about you, that's the impression I get.'

  'Oh?' I can't help but smile.

  'It actually used to irritate me,' Elise chuckles dismissively. 'Lara this, Lara that, she's so fun, so creative blah-blah but then I realized two things …'

  I don't like the sound of this.

  'One is that he sees you as a mate rather than a woman.'

  Oh cheers, thanks a lot.

  'The other is that he may have a past with you but I have his future.’

  Amazing. Go on, stick that knife in further, you only skewered three of my vital organs – why not go for the full shish-kebab?

  She does.

  'I mean, it's all very well having your buddies to play with but when it comes to being a grown-up, it's all about one-to-one commitment, wouldn't you agree?'

  'I wouldn't know Elise, I'm not thirty for another two days. Maybe then I'll morph into a fully fledged adult and agree with what you're saying.'

  'Two days, is it?' she coos. 'You know, Elliot wanted to make a big fuss but I told him no woman wants to be reminded she's getting older!'

  You utter cow! You will be punished! I wonder what he had in mind – must have been good or she wouldn't have scuppered it.

  'What did you do on your 30th?' I ask, still seething but not wanting to pass up the chance to gather a little more info on Madam X.

  'Me?' Elise asks.

  You heard. 'Or can't you remember – I realize some time has passed.’

  'No, I remember,' she sounds distant. 'I was out here, as a matter of fact.'

  'Doing what?’ And with whom…

  Silence.

  'Elise?'

  'Look, I've got to go,' she blusters. 'But I need to ask you something about Elliot – you know how private he is, always playing his cards so close to his chest …'

  Not the Elliot I knew. My Elliot was always an open book, an open heart. What has she done to him?

  'The thing is …' she sounds shifty.

  'Yes?'

  'Honey, I'm home!' Joel bursts in, looking gleeful. 'Ready for breakfast?'

  'Who's that?' Elise snaps.

  'Joel, say hello to Elise …' I don't know what I'm thinking but I hand over the phone.

  'Hey! How's it going? You discovered the meaning of life yet?'

  A pause while Elise talks.

  'So no hot tutors to give you a bit of hands-on healing?'

  I hear a faint squeak of outrage down the phone.

  'Oh yeah, that's right. I met him last night, he seems a cool guy.'

  Back to muffled vocals. I lean closer – something about not realizing that Lara had any long-lost friends in California.

  'She doesn't. We just met yesterday. It was the red sequins that did it for me!'

  Again a pause.

  'What can I say? She's a true one-off. A very attractive one-off …' He eyes me lasciviously.

  'Is it okay if we talk tomorrow?' I ask Elise, grabbing the phone back.

  'Just tell Elliot he's the most wonderful, kind…'

  I hold the receiver away from my ear. Tell me something I don't know. For a moment there thought she was having doubts. She probably just wants advice on what to get him for a wedding present. I sigh heavily and replace the receiver. Why can't she just vanish? Forget all these gurus and psychics, what I need is a good old-fashioned magician.

  Chapter 24

  ‘Where'd the snow go?' I gasp as Joel swoops back the curtains to reveal a happy sunshiny day – nothing but perky green scenery for miles.

  'You like?' Joel grins, sensing my surge of joy at being granted the perfect spring day.

  'Oh yes!' I say, skipping out on to the balcony. 'You know, if I didn't have such a disgusting hangover, I'd be feeling all revitalized and zingy about now.'

  'Fresh air! It'll get you every time!' Joel notes, reaching for my hand. 'Come on, let's get stage two of the Woo Elliot campaign under way.'

  'Oh you can forget that!' I grumble, following him across the room. 'Last night he gave me his blessing to get it on with you!'

  'That's just his defense mechanism kicking in,' Joel shrugs, ushering me out the door. 'But still, it's good to know.'

  I turn back to see if he means what I think he means and he greets me with a wink.

  Hmm. Maybe tonight is the night after all…

  The Ahwahnee hotel breakfast easily makes it into my Top 10 Alternatives to Cheerios: poached eggs with spicy vegetable hash and a sneaky side of raisin brioche washed down with a keg of cranberry juice, all served in a trestle-beamed banquet hall creaking with wrought iron chandeliers. Most dramatic. Yet even this can't pip my all-time number one breakfast – the five of us Beau-Belles hung-way-over at The Grand Hotel in Brighton gorging on bacon and eggs and a fifteen-story stack of toast. The night before we'd been to a summer ball that coincided with Zoë's birthday so we'd decided to go all-out with full Buccaneers-style ballgowns and treat ourselves to a suite – three in the bed (me, Sasha, Helen), Elliot on the sofa and Zoë in the bath. Her idea.

  The next morning over two hours and at least ten cups of tea we dissected who ki
ssed who, who vomited, who flashed, who cried, who hid the band's cymbals, etc. (And wondered what on earth people who behave themselves of an evening have to talk about the next day.)

  Not that any of the middle-aged Americans at the tables around us seem to be having a problem with producing lively banter. Maybe it's because the breakfast hours at the Ahwahnee are so civilized – no 9am cut-off here. I'd definitely have extended the breakfast hours at the B&B if I was in charge. Who wants to get up early on holiday, especially in a clubber's paradise like Brighton? I'd serve the full monty till noon. And happily deliver fry-ups to the bedroom instead of a paltry croissant in a basket.

  'Where's your mind at?' Joel tickles my chin.

  'Breakfast in bed,' I tell him.

  'You only had to ask!'

  I smile and roll my eyes. 'Are you done?'

  Joel takes a last slurp of his cafe latte then helps me and my bumper belly to my feet.

  'That was so good,' I sigh, then lean close. 'Did you get the stash, man?’

  Joel gives his rucksack a pat.

  Despite warnings about keeping all food in sealed canisters, we set off from the dining room wafting chocolate chip muffins from beneath the leather-trimmed canvas. (As much as I initially admonished him, I too am secretly hoping to attract a bear.)

  'Now. Elliot's imagination will have been running riot overnight,' Joel begins as we head towards the lobby. 'You'll want to play on that when you see him.'

  'Do you think he'll presume that we, you know?' I furrow my brow.

  'Well, it would have been slightly more convincing if you hadn't passed out before he left but nevertheless, alone with a man of my dastardly charms …'

  'I didn't stand a chance!'

  'Exactly. So when you see him – Oop! Here he is now.' Joel raises his arm to greet my disheveled friend. 'Elliot! Good morning!'

  'Morning,' he mumbles, shuffling over like one of the living dead.

  'Sleep well?' Joel chirrups.

  'Not really,' Elliot croaks. 'I woke up looking like Benicio Del Toro!' He tries to joke away the bags under his eyes. 'You?'

  I look at Joel to see how he's going to answer. Joel looks at me. A wicked smile spreads across his face.

  'Not that it's any of my business,’ Elliot back-pedals, looking mortified.

  I bite my lip and stare at the floor, knowing I can't be trusted to maintain the mystique if I speak.

  'Er, Lara, I don't know what your plans are for today …'

  Elliot's talking to me like he doesn't know me, this is so bizarre.

  'But I'm doing a bear talk in an hour and I wondered if you wanted to come along?' Judging by his anxious tone of voice, he needs the moral support.

  'Of course! I'd love to!' I possibly over-enthuse. 'That's if …' I look to Joel for approval. Am I allowed out by myself?

  'You go ahead. I've got a climb planned. Either way, I think our first stop had better be a clothing store,' Joel decides as I trip up yet again on his trackie bottom legs trailing over my feet.

  'There's a good one just up here at Yosemite Village.'

  Elliot guides us, walking a few paces ahead, thrashing at the undergrowth with a stick. Joel gives me a knowing look but I'm not convinced – is this the behavior of a jealous man or a friend merely peeved that they're not getting the attention they're used to? Of course, it's also possible Elliot is just grouchy from lack of sleep. He was in a tent, after all. I look up at the sunlight glinting through the leaves and decide I'm not going to let second-guessing games ruin my mood: even though I'm picking my way along the dirt track in slippers I have a spring to my step that I haven't experienced in a while. Being engulfed in greenery feels so new and exciting. I wasn't expecting to experience such a lift. Could there be a Grizzly Richards in me, trying to get out? If I stayed here long enough would I grow a beard? There is that concern.

  Once inside the clothes shop the boys turn into fashion stylists, assessing my physique and coloring and trying to decide what will suit me best.

  'How do you feel about forgoing traditional hiking colors?' Joel queries.

  'Sorry?'

  'Only I think you'd look good in this heather t-shirt,’ he suggests, holding the soft purple up to my face.

  Elliot nods his approval and then thrusts a pair of trousers at me. 'Look, these are great – you can unzip them at the knee and make shorts!'

  'How fabulously versatile!' I coo. 'Maybe I'll be really daring and just wear the knee-to-ankle bit!'

  Neither of them laugh – they're concentrating far too hard on completing the outfit.

  'What about getting some proper hiking boots?' Joel suggests.

  Elliot's not convinced. 'I think that's maybe going too far.'

  There's not much else here – she should at least try a pair.'

  'She'll never wear them again.'

  'Hello?' I remind the chaps that I am over four and able to make up my own mind.

  'Can I git yer somethin'?' the gruff lady shop assistant doesn't seem to like the way I'm handling her Timberlands.

  'Do you have these in a UK size 5½? I think that's about 7½ US.

  As she rifles through the boxes I sit on the bench and roll up the tracksuit bottoms, unsheathing my sparkling scarlet toenails. She finds my size but there's a moment of hesitation before she hands them to me – as if she has doubts about the boots going to an appropriate home.

  'Hope you don't mind me saying,' she grunts, 'but yer real feminine!'

  Elliot snickers into the rack of hats. I don't blame him. I've never been called that before. Especially not as an insult.

  The boots are even heavier than they look. ‘They'd snap my ankle in a second, wouldn't they?' I try to win her over by seeking her advice.

  'Why dontcha try these,' she says offering me some strappy-Velcro open-toe numbers. They got sturdy soles and y'can always wear socks if yer git cold.'

  'Sold!' I say, eager to be on my way.

  On our way out we find ourselves in the camping accessories department. Elliot and I are admiring a mosquito net slash hat combo that gives you that essential beekeeper look, and an ingenious solar-heated camp shower, when Joel sneaks up behind me and presses something into my hand: 'Here – present for you!’

  I rustle open the brown paper bag and pull out a shiny silver package with a Mountain House logo.

  'Is it coffee? Oh no – freeze-dried blueberry cheese-cake!' I hoot as I read the label.

  'Just in case you get stuck in the snow again with no food!'

  ‘That's brilliant, thanks!' I give Joel a kiss on the cheek. 'Is it powder or something?' I ask squeezing the foil between my fingers.

  'Why don't you try it?'

  'Oh no! I'm going to save it for a real emergency.'

  'I wasn't sure which flavor you'd like – they also do seafood chowder and scrambled egg with real bacon!'

  'No way!'

  'Wait there!' Joel darts off again.

  Elliot looks wistful. 'I should have done that. The old me would have done that.'

  'What do you mean?' I ask, concerned by his tone.

  'Remember the time I bought you that King & I plate?'

  I smile. 'Of course!’

  It was part of a set commemorating Rodgers & Hammerstein's contribution to musical theatre. Elliot paid $10 at a flea market but it was the fact that he'd remembered my favorite duet that really made it invaluable. We Kiss In A Shadow was the title.

  The fretful look remains on Elliot's face. 'Lara, do you think I've changed?'

  'How do you mean?' I need specifics before I blunder in and let him know that I think Elise is sucking the fun out of him.

  'I don't know what it is. I feel like I used to be more game, more spontaneous.’ He looks mildy confused. ‘Everything seems to be slowing down.’

  ‘It’s called aging,’ I tease.

  ‘Oh don’t say that!’

  ‘I suppose it was just a more carefree time when we were all together,’ I reason. 'Everything we did was a laug
h, however silly.'

  'Maybe that's it,' Elliot looks like he's hit upon something. 'I don't think I've done silly in a while.'

  'I'm sorry to hear that,' I say, gravely.

  'Do you think it's gone, or can I get it back?'

  'Stick with me, buddy,' I grin. 'You'll get more silly than you can stomach.'

  'Really?' Elliot looks hopeful.

  'We'll do something fun this afternoon. Something you've never done before.'

  'Can we do a runner from here?' Elliot suggests.

  I shake my head but before I can answer Joel reappears with another gift, this time for Elliot.

  'Didn't want you to feel left out, dude!'

  'Th-thanks,' Elliot stammers, accepting a T-shirt bragging I MADE IT TO THE TOP! 'Did they have any that said, I STOOD AT THE BOTTOM AND LOOKED UP?' He gives a wobbly smile.

  Joel laughs and slaps him on the back. 'You should give it a go – I'd be happy to take you up, if you fancy it?'

  'Oh no!' I cry. 'Not that I don't think you'd be a natural,' I tell Elliot. 'But I just couldn't bear to watch.'

  'You're not coming up then, Lara?’

  ‘Are you insane?'

  'Partially,' he admits.

  'I'll be happy on that little tram thing that tinkers around the valley floor, thanks very much,' I tell him.

  'Okay, just promise me you'll wave as you go past.'

  'As long as you promise not to wave back,' I shudder.

  It's nearly time for Elliot's bear talk. Joel joins us for the initial stroll through the meadow then breaks away from the pack.

  'Look out for me on Half Dome,' he tells us. 'Otherwise I'll see you back at the hotel about 6pm.'

  I turn to Elliot. 'Is there some plan I don't know about?'

  'His friend rang while you were in the changing room – Jen? – she says we're welcome at the wedding reception tonight.'

  'Really? Do you want to go?'

  'I thought you probably would.'

  'I'm not sure – it does throw up another clothing dilemma.'

  'Your suitcase should definitely be back with you by this afternoon but if not one of the bridesmaids will have something you can borrow – apparently they've come with a full-size trunk just for one night.'