“Relax, it’s only a few weeks away,” I said. “And stop pulling your hair! You’ll go bald.”
Nicole instantly dropped her right hand. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure that I should go to Boston now that you can’t. I don’t want to leave you here by yourself. I think I should stay and go to San Francisco State.”
“What are you thinking? Just because my life is totally screwed up, you want to ruin your life too? That’s really dumb.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Listen, I have a shitload ofproblems right now, and there’s nothing you can do about them. You can’t bring my mother back, you can’t give me a job or a place to live. How does it help me if we’re both miserable? For years you’ve been dreaming ofgoing to school on the East Coast and getting away from Cindy. You’d have to be crazy to throw that away now.”
She sniffed and I handed her a tissue from the bedside table.
“Look, I’d love to have you here, holding my hand. I admit, I’m scared about facing all this alone. Everything is totally screwed up right now, but I’ll be fine, honest. My mother will come back, and we’ll figure everything out.”
She didn’t look up, just swiped at her eyes with the tissue.
“Come on, I’m tough as old boots, you know that. It’s Ashley against the world,” I said. “Who are you betting on?”
She finally looked up and gave me a wan smile. “You, you dope. I’m betting on you.”
“OK, then,” I said, rearranging the pillows against the bed to prop myself up. “You need to toughen up and start thinking about number one for a change. Otherwise, you’re going to go through life as a victim with a capital V. Everyone takes advantage of you, even me. Of course, you know I do it for your own good.”
I heard her giggle at that.
“But not everyone has your best interests at heart. You’ve got to learn to take care of yourself. You can be a good person without turning into Saint Nicole.”
She started to say something, but I wasn’t finished.
“I want you to start being selfish. Yeah, once a day you have to be selfish and do something that’s good for you, and to hell with everyone else. For one thing, when you get to BU and meet your new roommate, take the best bed in the room instead of saying, ‘Oh, go ahead, I don’t care. You choose first.’ For once, put Nicole first. Do you hear me?”
She was grinning now. “I hear you.”
• • •
The next morning, I declined Nic’s offer of breakfast and ducked into the shower while she trooped downstairs to mix and mingle with her family over their cereal bowls. When I finally drifted down the stairs, I could hear Cindy and Nicole talking in the kitchen. I hovered on the stairs, listening.
“I don’t see why not,” Nicole was pleading. “It’s not as if anyone will be using my room while I’m away. She wouldn’t be in anyone’s way, and I’m sure her mother will be back or she’ll have found a place by the time I come home at Christmas.”
“You’re not listening to me, Nicole. I will not have that girl living in my house and sponging off me. She and her larcenous mother have made their beds, and they have to lie in them. Like mother, like daughter.”
“That’s so unfair. Ashley isn’t responsible for all this.”
“Excuse me if I disagree, but I think there are some chickens coming home to roost here. She’s always been the queen bee, with her great sense of entitlement. I’m surprised that you don’t see the opportunity in this, Nicole. This is your chance. You’ve spent your whole life in her shadow, playing second banana while she becomes homecoming queen or gets the lead in the play. You’re just as pretty and just as smart. Now is your chance to shine and show everyone you’re the real winner.”
“I can’t believe you said that. I’m not in a contest with Ashley. I know she can be a little full of herself sometimes, but she has a good heart, and we’re like sisters. I’ve never wanted the same things as her. Why can’t you ever understand that? All you ever think about is what you want—you don’t care what I want.”
I had never heard Nicole stand up to her mother like that before, and I wanted to cheer for her. I settled for accidentally-on-purpose dropping my bag and letting it roll down the stairs with a clatter. All conversation in the kitchen stopped abruptly.
“Good morning,” I said brightly as I stepped into their peachy pink kitchen. “Thanks for the bed last night, Cindy. I have to get going now.”
Cindy nodded curtly and turned her back on me, while Nicole followed me out to my car.
“I’m sorry about my mother, Ash,” she said.
“Forget it. I wouldn’t have stayed here anyway. She’s never liked me, and she’s never going to,” I said, and then added indignantly, “I am not full of myself.”
She smiled. “Oh, no, not you. Never.”
As I got into my car, she held the door. “What’s next?”
I paused for a moment, thinking it over. “The number one item on my list ought to be finding a job. But I’m curious about my mother’s lover-boy boss. I’d like to know what his story is. I think he knows a lot about my mother, maybe even where she is.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Nope,” I admitted. “But I’m doing it anyway.”
Nicole watched me, her eyes wide with apprehension, as I started my car and drove away.
Chapter Twelve
Monday morning I dialed the cell phone number Curtis Davidson had given me.
“Ashley, I’m so glad you called.” His voice was warm, like we were old pals. “Can we get together tomorrow? Somewhere discreet so we can speak candidly.”
Yeah, let’s be candid, I thought. “Why not today?” I asked.
“I’m afraid today isn’t possible for me. Actually, I’m on my way right now to my country retreat. I have to meet someone there, and it can’t wait.”
“Your country retreat?” I said, my heart beating faster.
“Just a little place I keep up in the mountains near La Honda. Perhaps I can show it to you one day.”
“Perhaps you can,” I said, my brain buzzing light years ahead. Maybe sooner than you think.
We arranged to meet for lunch on Tuesday, and I got off the phone. A minute later, I called Brain and asked him to find out the address of Curtis Davidson’s La Honda retreat. He really is a Web wizard. It took him only twenty minutes before he e-mailed me the address: 12046 Deep Ravine Drive.
Next, I called Nicole, but as usual, Cindy was keeping her busy. So I asked Tattie if she’d take a drive with me.
“Sure, why not?” she said.
We drove south on Interstate 280 alongside grassy meadows peppered with oak trees and the glistening water of Crystal Springs Reservoir. The sun was bright in a cloudless sky. I opened the sunroof and let my hair blow in the wind. Tattie leaned back, sucking on a super-sized cola, while Metallica blasted from the CD player until I turned it off so I could explain my mission.
“This Davidson dude was having an affair with your mother?” she asked.
“That’s my theory. I want to check out his so-called retreat,” I said. “Maybe she’s there. I’m going to find out right now.”
Four miles later we turned east on Highway 92 and followed the two-lane road as it climbed up into the low ridge of mountains that separates the suburbs along the bay from the farms and beaches on the Pacific Ocean. At the rim we turned south again, onto Skyline Boulevard. Almost immediately the road narrowed, with redwood trees, dense blackberry bushes, and poison oak crowding the pavement on both sides.
Up here coastal fog clung to the top of the forest, blocking the sun and turning the sky the color of congealed oatmeal. The road curved around and between the towering trees. Periodically, we would catch a glimpse of a house before the road twisted away again. I had to slow down and concentrate to keep the Jetta from veering off the highway as the road wound through a long series of corkscrew turns.
Following Brain’s directions turned
out to be a challenge, since the small lanes that intersected Skyline appeared suddenly and were poorly marked. I almost missed Deep Ravine Drive and had to hit my brakes hard to make the turn onto the narrow side road.
We passed a couple of houses and turned down a driveway next to a mailbox marked DAVIDSON in red letters. I saw his Porsche first, and beyond it, a very modern-looking house perched on a knoll.
I was feverish with a mixture of excitement and dread. If my mother was hiding here, I was about to find out.
“I’ll wait here.” Tattie leaned back and adjusted her sunglasses. “Don’t take too long. The country gives me the creeps.”
I jumped out of the car and sprinted down the drive. Crossing a little bridge over a trickling creek, I stepped up to the front door and rang the bell.
A minute or two elapsed, then the door opened and Curtis Davidson III stood there dressed in a V-necked pullover sweater and blue jeans, with bare feet. His jaw dropped and he stared at me in astonishment.
“Ashley! What are you doing here?”
“You said we need to talk,” I said, moving forward so he’d step back and let me in.
He didn’t. He stared at me without moving aside. “I don’t understand. We agreed to meet tomorrow. This is not a convenient time. I can’t see you now.”
“I couldn’t wait,” I said. “I’ll just take a minute.”
“This is not a convenient time,” he repeated.
“Why? Aren’t you alone?” I said, pushing past him and into the house.
The house was one of those architectural gems you see in magazines, the kind with lots of open space and a mammoth stone fireplace centered between floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the windows, I could see a huge deck and steam rising from what looked like a hot tub. Bluesy music was playing and a bottle of wine with two fluted glasses was set out on a granite countertop.
Then I saw her. A woman was seated on the sofa, with her feet tucked up under her. She was wearing a man’s dark blue silk robe. She wasn’t my mother.
“Hello. Who are you?” she said, biting her lip in surprise, and looking over my shoulder in apprehension.
I stared at her in dismay. She was forty or so, petite and buxom, with bright blue eye shadow.
Curtis came up behind me. “Janet, this is Ashley. Ashley’s dropped by, uh, to give me a message. An important message. From my office.”
Janet nodded, shaking her improbably white-blond hair.
“Are you the only one here?” I blurted out.
She looked at me with hostile eyes and then said, “Of course. What an odd question!”
Curtis frowned “This is inappropriate. Mrs. Richardson and I are having a business meeting. You need to go. We’ll discuss that other matter tomorrow.”
Ignoring them both, I marched across the room and peered into the bedroom. Aside from a rumpled bed, there was nothing to see. No one was there.
Curtis came up behind me, grabbed my elbow, and steered me back toward the door. I didn’t resist. My legs moved mechanically while I swallowed hard to choke back my disappointment. At that moment, we both heard the steady honking of a car horn. Tattie was getting impatient.
“Now what!” Curtis muttered in irritation.
I was pretty irritated myself. I felt like a prize idiot. Some girl detective I turned out to be. I wanted to kick Curtis in the shin and run out the door.
“That’s for me,” I said tightly, and walked out without looking back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He emphasized the word tomorrow as he closed the door.
I climbed back into the car, started the engine, and threw the car in gear. As I sped back up the road in a flurry of gravel, I looked over at Tattie. She was smoking a joint and grinning.
“Well, what happened? Was your mother there?”
“No.”
I stomped on the gas pedal as we turned onto the main road. We roared down a short straightaway, then the car skidded on a sharp turn. For one frightening moment we almost swerved off the roadway. I hit the brakes, jerked the car onto the shoulder, and stopped. I put my head down on the steering wheel as I tried to slow my pounding heart.
“Sorry about that,” I said, not looking at Tattie.
“So what happened back there?”
“He had someone there all right, but it wasn’t my mother. Some blonde with mean eyes named Mrs. Richardson.” I pulled my head up and made a sour face. “She was wearing a bathrobe for their business meeting.”
“So you walked into his little love nest?” Tattie took a drag from her joint and laughed. “That must have been something to see. Oh, wow, I’ll bet you scared the life out of him. His penis probably shriveled up to the size of this joint.”
I gave her an annoyed look, but then the humor of it struck me and I began to laugh too.
“Mean eyes?” she chuckled. “I’ll bet old Curtis isn’t interested in her eyes.”
I laughed again and started up the car. Slowly, I moved back onto the roadway.
“What are you going to do now?” Tattie asked.
“Well, Curtis isn’t hiding my mother there, that’s clear. But he knows something.”
“Mmmm. Well, if you want, I could seduce him for you,” Tattie suggested.
Taken aback, I shot her a look. She was dead serious.
“Thanks,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s necessary. I’m having lunch with him tomorrow. I think I can charm some information out of the old lech on my own.”
• • •
The next day I had a hard time deciding what to wear. Should I play the innocent ingénue or sex it up with a tight red dress and three-inch stiletto heels? Finally, I decided on a flowered dress with a low-cut sweetheart neckline and shoes with kitten heels.
I was only twenty minutes late to the restaurant, which, for me, is like being on time. I spotted him as soon as I walked in. No doubt about it, he was handsome for his age and well dressed in an Armani suit with a beautiful blue silk tie. He had the courtesy to stand up as I approached. You don’t see good manners like that every day.
A dark-haired waitress appeared almost immediately.
“Two Cobb salads and iced tea,” he told her, then added perfunctorily, “Is that all right with you, Ashley? I’m a little short on time.”
“Fine,” I said as he handed her both our menus.
He turned and gave me a major-wattage smile, with lots of eye contact. I wasn’t buying a car from him, so I couldn’t imagine what I had done to deserve so much warmth.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk yesterday. I hope you didn’t misunderstand the situation with Mrs. Richardson,” he said.
“Oh, no,” I said, widening my eyes innocently. “I understand completely. It was very rude of me to barge in like that. It’s just that I was so eager to have our talk.”
He gave me another warm smile. “You know, you’re even prettier than your picture.”
I ignored that and got the ball rolling. “So, what is it you want to talk to me about?”
Curtis cleared his throat slightly. “I’m sure you’re aware that your mother and I have worked very closely for the past several years.”
“Yes,” I said, even though I didn’t know any such thing.
“Did she talk to you about me?”
“Some,” I said cautiously, and took a bite of my salad. If she had, I didn’t remember.
He paused, as if to reconsider what he was going to say. I decided to move this whole thing along since he was so short on time.
“I know she’s very fond of you.”
Of course, I made that up, but I remembered what Phil had said about there being someone else in my mother’s life. Curtis was obviously the typical cheating husband. His wife probably played tennis and belonged to the Opera Guild. Or maybe she loved horses more than him. Whatever her story was, I was betting that she didn’t understand him.
“I am very fond of her, too. Diane is a delightful woman.”
“She is,” I said with a l
ittle choke in my voice. Totally bogus, of course, but I didn’t mind putting on an act for the guy. “Since you and my mother were so close, I’m surprised that you waited so long to call me.”
“Of course, I’ve wanted to get in touch, but the situation called for some discretion. After all, the police might have tapped your phone. And it would have seemed suspicious, or at least imprudent, if I was seen knocking on your door. This unpleasant situation has been very difficult for all of us.”
The guy was the complete Yoda of double-talk. “This situation?” I retorted.
He coughed and politely covered his mouth with his napkin. “I refer to the press and publicity and general uproar.”
“Not to mention the papers that were served on me.”
“Yes, that too.” His voice was sympathetic and his eyes were wide open in an unblinking I-have-nothing-to-hide stare that didn’t fool me for a minute. “I tried to dissuade the firm from that course of action, but the board was obdurate. I hope you understand it was nothing personal.”
He seemed to be waiting for me to answer. I waited for him to go on. This was what playing poker must be like, with each player trying to outbluff the others. I had never actually played poker, but I am an excellent actress after all. I took a sip of my iced tea and gave him another innocent smile.
Finally, he said, “How is she? Is Diane all right?”
“How would I know?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Ashley. I’m a friend. You can trust me.”
I almost laughed. How could he deliver a line like that with a straight face?
He went on. “I’ve been worried and expecting to hear from her every day. Why hasn’t she been in touch with me? Is she angry?”
My Lost and Found Life Page 9