“Kendra,” my mother calls from the edge of the pool. “I heard that. You know I don’t like that word.”
Rosa grins. “You can start speaking to Mitch at the wrap party tonight. You’ll be working with him on Team Fourteen this summer, so you might as well get along.”
“What’s the point? It’s over.”
“Just see where it goes,” she says. “A Black Sheep always keeps an open mind, right?”
I look at her quickly, surprised. I shouldn’t be, because Rosa has always been able to read my mind. The BLAH wasn’t the only thing that kept me out of trouble.
Settling back into my chair, I end the discussion. “Whatever.”
Lisa is already on the small stage when we arrive at the aquarium for the Black Sheep wrap party, and she steps to the mike when she sees us.
“I have an announcement,” she says. “Boulder Beach Golf Club has decided not to move its fourteenth hole!”
She waits for the commotion to subside before continuing. “They’ve given in to the pressure generated by national television coverage.” She glances over at me and I feel less of an icy stab from her eyes than usual. “They held out for a while because they’d sunk so much money into the property, but two savvy bankers from New York advised them to set up a charitable conservation area on the land that will help recoup their losses—and, more important, improve their public profile.”
My parents wave away the applause modestly. I’m thrilled that they supported me by joining the battle, but I’m also curiously disappointed that the fight with Boulder Beach is ending so soon. I was looking forward to working on it this summer.
Lisa continues to hog the mike. “The Boulder Beach executives have also dropped the charges against us, which means my academic standing is rock solid. I’m hoping to publish an article about the experience.”
Trust Lisa to turn every event in her life into an opportunity to educate.
She calls my parents and me to the stage, and the Mulligan twins come toward us carrying the ugliest trophy I’ve ever seen. It consists of a ceramic otter attached to stacked tin cans with a lot of glue. The shaky inscription reads, TO THE BISHOPS, PROTECTERS OF THE CALIFORNIA SEE OTER.
My parents nudge Lisa out of the way so that I can use the mike. “My parents and I would like to thank you for this unique tribute,” I say, raising the trophy. “After yesterday’s speech, I don’t have much left to say, other than that I’ve decided to donate half my earnings from The Black Sheep to the aquarium’s otter-rehabilitation program.”
Amid the cheer that follows, I glance at my parents and see that the dollar signs have popped right out of their pupils to jitter in the air before them.
“Someone catch my parents before they faint,” I say. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry, I’m putting the rest in the bank for college.”
“You certainly are,” Dad says.
Rosa starts the applause and most people join in. Maya, however, doesn’t even pretend to clap; Judy, and Ted Silver are too busy groping each other to bother. Finally, Judy looks up from the clinch and calls, “Did I miss my thank-you, KB?”
I roll my eyes and everyone laughs. “Thank you Judy for giving me a platform to promote a good cause.”
The music cranks up and the crowd breaks into smaller groups. Max and Mona come up to me carrying an oversized gift bag. Inside is a quilt that Mona made, but it’s nothing like her usual country kitsch. She has transferred photographs onto fabric squares and used them to depict my life in California, and my life in New York. A Team 14 poster and a bright yellow kayak sit beside Rockefeller Center and the Henri Bendel department store on Fifth Avenue. In the center, is a great big black sheep.
“Wow!” I say. “This could hang in the Museum of Modern Art.”
“Or you could just use it and think of us now and then,” Mona says.
“I’ll think of you more often than that,” I assure her.
“And we’ll think of you every time we drive our new minivan,” Max says. “Thanks, kid.”
“Don’t thank me.” I smile. “The network put up the money. I just decided how to spend it.”
“Well, you couldn’t have chosen better,” he says.
I wish Maya had put as much thought into how she spent my family’s portion, instead of donating it to the Museum of American Finance History. It just shows how little imagination she has.
“We’re glad you won the fight,” Mona says, hugging me. “And we’re sorry we were so hard on you. It’s difficult to watch your kids repeat your mistakes.”
“We shouldn’t have blamed you for Mitch’s involvement,” Max adds. “After a lot of meditation, we realized we were in denial about the fact that our son had defied us.”
“And we should have taken our share of the blame,” Mona continues. “We filled your heads with stories of our triumphs and neglected to mention the failures.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t up front with you about…everything.”
Mona’s smile fades. “You mean the tent business.”
I nod sheepishly. “We just wanted to keep it private from Judy.”
Max puts a hand on his wife’s backside. “I think we overreacted, don’t you, Mother? We were younger than they were when we found each other.”
I interrupt before they can go too far down memory lane. “Am I welcome to visit this summer?”
“Of course,” Max says. “You’d always be welcome in our home, even if you weren’t our son’s girlfriend.”
I examine the quilt as an excuse not to look at them. “I’m not his girlfriend.”
“Give it an hour,” Mona says, and hugs me again.
* * *
“You must be getting dizzy.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“I said, you must be getting dizzy from the way the world revolves around you.” Maya leans over the bar and adds a shot of rum to her Coke when the bartender isn’t looking. “Figures you’d turn the wrap party into an All About Kendra party.”
“I didn’t know that was going to happen,” I say.
“Of course you didn’t. Just like you didn’t suck up to my parents by donating your earnings from the show to the aquarium.”
“I donated that money because I wanted to,” I say. “You’re the suck-up.”
Maya takes a sip of her drink and adds a little more rum. “I can’t help it if I have more in common with your parents than you do. Besides, showing interest in that stuff was the only way I could escape the morgue you people live in.”
“Our house is not a morgue!”
“It is, and there’s a pair of stiffs running it.”
“My parents loved having you visit. How can you be so harsh?”
Laughing, she raises her glass to me. “I learned from the master.”
I decide to teach her something else by walking away without lowering myself to her level. If she couldn’t learn as much from this experience as I did, it’s her loss. Black Sheepism is totally wasted on some people.
Carrie deposits me at the door of the jellyfish gallery and says, “Try not to screw it up this time.”
One successful date with Luke and she’s all superior. I start down a path marked with tiny votive candles that leads to the sea nettle tank.
“I wanted to make sure you could find your way,” Mitch says.
“But will anyone be able to find the buffet table you stole these from?” I ask.
He shrugs. “It’s a romantic gesture. The end justifies the means.”
“I would have settled for an apology.”
He looks at me incredulously. “I thought you’d be the one apologizing.”
This is a two-way street and I’m willing to do my part. “You first.”
“Fine,” he says, shaking his head. “Then I’m sorry you accused me of using you.”
“You call that an apology?”
He leans against the nettle tank and crosses his arms. “I call it the truth.”
“You’ve got to admit, it looked suspicious.”
/>
“I don’t care what it looked like. It wasn’t true and it wasn’t fair. And you didn’t let me explain.”
I can see that he is hurt as well as angry, and that nearly paralyzes me. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It got so that I honestly couldn’t tell what was real and what was fake anymore. I was…upset.” That’s putting it mildly, but it’s a start.
“Why couldn’t you just tell me you were upset?”
“Because I don’t do that. My way is to stew about things for a while and then explode.”
“That’s not going to work,” he says. “I’m not a mind-reader.”
I notice he says “going,” as if there is a future between us. It gives me the courage to continue. “I know. I’ll try harder.” Just in case he thinks I’m too eager, however, I add, “You could afford to communicate better, too.”
He thinks about this before nodding. “Yeah, I guess I could. I’ll try harder, too.”
And that’s it. I can tell by his smile that we are boyfriend and girlfriend again. If I’d known it would be that easy, I’d have done it sooner.
“I have a romantic gesture, too,” I say, handing him a package.
He unwraps the binoculars and laughs. “It’s about time.”
“I figured you’d need them to come otter-watching with me.”
He wraps his arms around me just as Meadow’s voice rings out. “Kendra?”
It figures we can’t have a moment alone. “In here!” I call.
She races into the exhibit and hops with excitement. “You’re never going to believe who just showed up! Logan Waters! He said you invited him.”
I feel Mitch’s arms stiffen ever so slightly. It might be nonverbal communication, but it’s pretty clear just the same. “Okay,” I say. “We’ll be there soon.”
“Not soon—now!” she exclaims. “What if he leaves?”
If he leaves I’ll be disappointed, but after all, this is real life and Mitch is my boyfriend. “Don’t worry,” I tell Meadow. “You go keep him entertained until we get there.”
She runs out, hollering over her shoulder, “Hurry! You guys can make out any time.”
“Don’t you want to go?” Mitch asks when she’s gone.
“Not yet,” I say. “With my parents around, we won’t get much time alone and—”
Mitch’s lips are on mine before I finish, and the world quickly slips away. Before long, I realize that we are being bathed in a mysterious warm glow that’s brighter than the votives should be. Maybe that’s just what happens when you kiss the guy you’re meant to be with forever. Maybe I’m having an out-of-body experience.
Or maybe it’s just a nasty flashback.
“Judy, turn off that camera,” I say, opening my eyes as I pull away from Mitch. “The show is OVER.”
The light turns to focus on her as she addresses Chili’s camera. “You saw it here first, folks. Kendra and Mitch are together at last. But will their love stand the test of time and distance? Tune into to American Lovebirds, the Reality Network’s new show about the making of a relationship to find out. We’ll follow our young couple as they—”
“Cut!” I say, stepping in front of Chili’s camera. “My contract is done, Judy. That’s a wrap on Kendra Bishop.”
Black Sheep Rule Number Twenty-five: Never make the same mistake twice.
“KB, come on, you love the camera and the camera loves you,” she says. “Besides, Judy’s got a gap to fill. The network wants a love story.”
“I’ve got an idea,” I say. “Hit me, Chili.” He turns the camera on me. “You saw it here first, folks: a Hollywood producer falls for a small-town newshound. Can Judy Greenberg and her Teddy Bear make a go of it? Will Ted sacrifice his integrity to become a paparazzo? Or will Judy go legit? Tune in to American Lovebirds to find out.”
“Great idea!” someone says. We turn to see Terrance Burnside at the gallery entrance.
I whisper to Mitch, “Our place has been desecrated.”
“My personal life is not for public consumption,” Judy tells Terrance.
“You promised to deliver a show, Judith,” he reminds her. “I can tell you from personal experience that the network president doesn’t like to be disappointed.”
I lead Mitch away to rejoin the party, clutching his hand even tighter as we approach our parents.
“You must be so proud of your daughter,” Max says to Mom when we join them. “She could have a future as an environmental attorney.”
A look passes between my parents when they see Mitch holding my hand. Dad’s Adam’s apple bobs before he responds to Max. “If that’s what she wants, it’s fine with us. It’s a long program, so I’m glad she’s saving for college.”
Mom smiles at me sweetly. “I hope there’s something left for tuition when she’s paid her credit card bill.”
“Hey, look,” I say, escaping with Mitch to the dance floor, “Meadow’s dancing with Logan. We’d better get over there and chaperone.”
Judy rushes past, dragging Ted behind her. “We’ve got to get out of here. Somebody hail us a cab!”
Bob is right on their heels with the camera. “Zooming in!” he calls.
Terrance brings up the rear. “Bob, stay on Judy and get into the cab with them,” he calls. “Chili, you find out where Ted lives and get a crew over there. Talk to the neighbors and see if you can get any dirt. This is going to be great! When American Lovebirds airs, no one will even remember The Black Sheep.”
“I’ll remember it,” Mitch assures me, as the door closes behind them.
“Me too,” I say, smiling up at him. “Always.”
Thanks to Jennifer Besser, Jenny Bent, and our usual cast of supporters.
The Black Sheep Page 25