Paulina made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Abuelo never spoke about anyone named Violet. Are you sure he knew her?”
Mari nodded. “I visited an old woman named Evelyn Hastings who was friends with Violet. She remembered Abuelo. She said Violet asked her to give him a red dress suit for his mother, Great-Grandma.”
Raising her eyebrows, Paulina cracked a smile. “Is she loca?”
“I don’t think so. She seemed really with it.”
“Why did you visit this Evelyn? Who is she?”
“I emailed her daughter, Karen, because I’m looking to interview old people for my grant project. Karen responded, and told me that Evelyn won the Miss California pageant in 1940. Evelyn lived in Santa Cruz during the summers, and I wanted to meet her.”
Paulina picked up a pair of leggings and folded them in half. “So what did you find inside this PO box. Anything?”
“Another key.”
“What?”
This time Lily turned around. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Nothing, honey,” Mari said. “Watch your cartoon.”
Reaching into her jeans pocket, Mari removed the small silver key. She handed it to her mother. Paulina opened her palm and stared at it, her brows scrunching together. She turned it over, pointing to the faded etching on the side. “Look, there’s a number. I think this might belong to a safe deposit box.”
“Like at the bank?”
Paulina nodded. “Your father and I have one. We keep some of Abuela’s jewelry in there.” Her eyes lit up. “You might want her wedding ring someday.”
Mari smirked. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“When we cleaned out this house after Abuelo died, we moved everything to storage, sold stuff we didn’t want or put it in the attic. He didn’t have anything valuable, Mari. Nada. And he never told me about a safe deposit box.”
“But if he had one . . .”
“Then it would be at the Bank of Santa Cruz. That’s where he banked when he was alive. I still have some of his checkbooks.”
“I’m hungry!” Lily yelled, hopping up.
Paulina slipped the key into Mari’s hand.
“What do you want for dinner?” Mari asked, annoyed her conversation had been interrupted. But that was life with a kid, a nonstop series of interruptions.
“Spaghetti!” Lily announced. “With tomato sauce and cheese.”
“Okay,” Mari said. “Sounds yummy.”
“I’ll finish this,” Paulina said, nodding at the laundry.
“Thanks,” Mari replied, taking Lily by the hand. But as she filled a pot with water and turned on the stove, her mind spun. Travis Harcourt, Mayor Harcourt, Charles and Violet Harcourt—the past and present were colliding, and secrets were going to spill out.
THE ROOM WAS hot. So hot, Mari wished she’d put on an extra swipe of deodorant. She looked around the packed city council chambers and her heart fluttered. Fifty neighbors had shown up. And now they waited for Mari to speak, squished side by side in the tense atmosphere.
Council member Frank Ortega stood at the podium, frowning at the crowded room. He spoke into the microphone. “The planning commission will advise city council on matters pertaining to land use after receiving public input. Who would like to speak?”
With her heart pounding, Mari raised her hand. All eyes in the room were on her. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.
Someone handed her a microphone, and she took a deep breath. She found Jason’s face in the audience, smiling at her encouragingly. Smiling back at him, her nerves abated.
“Good evening. Thank you for joining me tonight.” She cleared her throat. “We are here to object not only to the condominium development scheduled for construction on Cowell Beach, but to the noise, congestion and traffic it will create.”
People murmured in agreement.
Mari looked at the city council members. “For the home owners on Beach Hill and the surrounding area, blocked views of the ocean will hurt property values. This condominium will radically change the population of the neighborhood. Single tech workers with high incomes don’t share the interests of our local families.”
“That’s right!” a man bellowed. “They’ll want more liquor license permits and trendy restaurants, while we want good schools and community programs.”
Mari smiled at the surprise on the city council members’ faces. She’d started a Facebook page called “Save the Cowell Beach Gazebo” and had reached even more residents than she thought possible. This meeting was not going as city council had planned.
“Let’s settle down,” a council member said.
“Excuse me,” a woman called out, looking over at Mari. “I’d like to speak.”
Mari passed her the microphone.
“Hi. My name is Jan Selby and I’m a longtime Santa Cruz resident. I’m concerned that this condo development on the beach will set the tone for having condos all the way down the beach. What if beach access is restricted?”
“We can’t have that!” another woman cried out. “Public access to the beach blocked? That’s absolutely classist.”
Vice Mayor Malia Echevarria stepped forward, an annoyed look on her face. “Public beach access will not be restricted.”
“That’s not true,” a man piped up. “I live nearby, and just the other day I saw a fence go up around the perimeter. There were sandbags brought in.”
“The fence is temporary,” the vice mayor replied. “It will remain there until construction begins.”
“So children will be at risk of stepping on nails?” a woman said, a toddler on her hip. “I’m a mother, and those kind of dangers are unacceptable.”
Get the locals riled up, and you didn’t know what you were in for. They were a righteous bunch. But Mari’s hope faded the minute she saw Travis Harcourt take the podium. She’d worried he might show up, but then convinced herself he wouldn’t. Now he was here, grinning at the room with that perfect white smile of his.
“Neighbors, friends. As you know, I grew up here in Santa Cruz too. I love this city. I would never do anything to hurt the community. I’ve already agreed to shorten the condominiums from eight stories to five, and to install solar panels.”
Mari snatched the microphone back from Jan. “Because including solar panels allows for expedited permitting. This isn’t about clean energy, it’s about pushing your agenda through as quickly as possible.”
“I’m sorry,” Travis said, smiling condescendingly. “What’s your name?”
For a minute, Mari’s vision went red, and she thought about marching over, pulling back her hand and punching him hard in the jaw. But she took a deep breath in through her nose, and let it out through her mouth.
“Let’s not play games, Travis. You know who I am.”
A hush settled over the room as neighbors’ eyes darted between them, sensing something dramatic about to take place.
He chuckled. “Neighbors, this condominium will improve the neighborhood. With the influx of new money, we’ll have more to spend on our parks, schools and infrastructure. We’re breathing new life into the community.”
“At the expense of the old culture being erased and the gazebo being torn down and the destruction of everything that our older community members treasure!”
“The gazebo is a nonissue. It’s barely standing. No one uses it. And I can promise you, my project has already received approval from the state’s coastal commission, so nothing is going to stop it from going through.”
Mari gritted her teeth. She’d spent hours looking at maps, documents and zoning laws, trying to find fault with Travis’s permit, but he’d done everything by the book.
“Will the seawall cause erosion?” a woman asked.
“No,” Travis replied. “We’ve already tested the soil.”
Council member Frank Ortega rapped his gavel against the podium. “Thank you, community members, for voicing your opposition to this project. Meeting minutes will be re
corded and posted online. Time’s up.”
Cries of protest sounded from the crowd, but he rapped his gavel again and said loudly, “Meeting adjourned.”
“What happens now?” a gray-haired man asked, frowning at Mari.
She licked her lips, all the moisture gone from her mouth. “We have to keep fighting. We’ll continue looking for flaws in the permit, look for opportunities to stop construction. But this could be a long process.”
He shook his head. “We’re the underdogs. I don’t expect to win.”
She sighed, her heart sinking as people shuffled out of the room. Looking around for Jason, she couldn’t find him in the sea of faces.
Suddenly Travis was at her side, making her skin crawl. “Well,” he whispered, smacking his chewing gum. “I didn’t expect to see you again. Who the hell do you think you are, some kind of activist?”
Mari clenched her jaw. “I’m a Santa Cruz native just like you. Not to mention, one of the residents on Beach Hill whose views will be blocked.”
He smirked at her. “You have no right to those views.”
“You entitled piece of . . .”
“What?” He laughed. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. If you try to stall my project, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”
“Travis, can I speak with you a moment?” Frank Ortega appeared next to them, stopping Mari from spewing the insults she wanted to hurl at Travis.
“In a moment,” Travis said, chewing his gum obnoxiously. “Is my dad here yet?”
“Mayor Harcourt is on his way.”
“Cool.”
Mari rolled her eyes. Could he be any more flippant? When Ortega walked away, Travis lowered his voice. “Is this even about the development, or is it about the mistake you made four years ago?”
“Mistake?” Mari’s throat tightened. She would not cry in front of him. “Our daughter is the love of my life. She’s bright, funny, smart and better off not knowing what a complete asshole her father is.”
“I never said I wanted to be involved,” Travis said, shrugging his shoulders. “I thought I made that pretty clear.”
“Clear as day,” Mari replied, blinking back tears.
“Good,” Travis said. “Then we’re done here.”
“No, we’re not. I’ll fight your development until you can’t stand the sight of me anymore. I don’t give up easily.”
Travis smirked. “You don’t get it, do you? My father has already approved everything. He’s the one who told me to use solar panels and low-flow showers to keep it eco-friendly. It’s your father you should be worried about.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
All three council members watched them argue from across the room, Vice Mayor Echevarria frowning as she narrowed her eyes.
Travis cocked his head in their direction. “They’re waiting for me. Take my advice. Stop fighting this. You’re going to fail.” He spat his gum into a foil wrapper, and then set it down on the folding table.
Mari looked at him in disgust. “Are you going to leave that there?”
He shrugged. “A janitor will clean it up.”
Before she could get in the last word, Travis turned his back on her and walked away. A lump rose in her throat, and she clenched her hands into fists. So long as Mayor Harcourt approved the condo project, she wasn’t likely to get anywhere.
Then she thought back to that day on the boardwalk . . . to the confused look on the mayor’s face when he’d seen Lily. Mari’s eyes darted to the used chewing gum, and her heart began to beat faster. Maybe it was time for Mayor Harcourt to know the truth.
Chapter 23
Violet Harcourt
1940
Taking a deep breath, I approached my husband. I’d been on my best behavior for the past week and had felt something shift in Charles. He had begun to trust me again. Setting my hand gently on his shoulder, I spoke softly.
“Charles, dear. Would it be all right if I walked to the grocery store? I know your employees have been so helpful with deliveries, but the neighbors may begin to suspect something is amiss if they never see me.”
I willed my hand not to shake, even though I felt as if I were touching a snake that could bite me at any moment. He turned to me, his brown eyes warm.
“Violet, you haven’t felt captive here, have you?”
“Not at all,” I lied. “But Mother and Evie will begin to wonder why they haven’t seen me out and about. I look well, don’t you think?”
My bruises had faded, usually a sign I would be due for more soon.
“One hour,” he said, unfolding the paper. “And then I will see you back here.”
“Of course,” I said, my stomach lurching. I eyed the kitchen clock, praying that Evie hadn’t changed her routine. She always did her weekly grocery shopping at noon on Saturday. I had to meet her for my plan to work. But I couldn’t call her to tell her that I was coming or I would put her in grave danger.
Hurrying into the bedroom, I gathered my string-knit shopping bags and the garments I’d sewn in secret. I walked past Charles with a pleasant smile, even though I felt as if my heart might burst from pounding. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to pick up?”
“Orange juice,” he said, his eyes on the paper. “And steak.”
My hand trembled as I touched the door handle. I angled my body away from him, praying he wouldn’t notice my bulging pockets. “I’ll purchase both.”
Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I squinted my eyes. With the sea spray touching my face, and the scent of the September air in my lungs, I nearly cried tears of relief. I was outside!
I longed to run, but I forced myself to walk at a normal pace, my kitten heels clicking against the pavement. The neighborhood grocery store wasn’t far, but I would need to hurry if I was to return within the hour. Reaching into the deep pockets of my dress, I retrieved the garments I had sewn. Then I stashed them into a string-knit shopping bag. Untying my white head scarf, I tucked it inside the bag as well.
As I approached Swan’s Market, my palms began to sweat. I was greeted by advertisements for potatoes, and fresh country eggs at nineteen cents a dozen, which were painted on the window glass. It had been ages since I’d been shopping. I stepped inside, looking about the store for Evie. Housewives chatted near the produce, and an elderly grandmother with a cane stood by the deli counter, pointing at a ham hock.
I wrapped my gloved hands around a shopping cart, feeling like a foreigner in my own town. A man passed me on my right and I quickly averted my gaze, staring at the waxed floor. What if Charles had sent someone to follow me? I examined some canned goods, taking a deep breath in and letting it out. Placing a tin of beets in my cart, I looked around anxiously for Evie. I wouldn’t have time to walk to her apartment or to the post office, and I didn’t trust that I wasn’t being watched.
As I rounded the corner, my heart sank to find the next aisle empty.
“Violet! Is that you?”
Gasping in fright, I brought my hand to my chest as Evie appeared behind me with her shopping cart. She glared.
“First you leave for Hollywood without saying so much as goodbye, and then you won’t answer my calls? Now you look as if you’ve seen a ghost! Good grief, Vi, where in the dickens have you been?”
I longed to embrace my dear pal—to confide everything. “Oh Evie,” I said, my heart aching at the hurt in her eyes. “I’m so terribly sorry. I’ve been a rotten friend.”
“Yes, you have.” She frowned. “Is everything all right? You’d tell me if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”
I couldn’t let Evie suspect a thing. Heaven knows what Charles might do to her. “I had an awful stomach bug, which kept me in bed for ages. I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your calls.”
“And Hollywood? Why wouldn’t you tell me you planned to go?”
I shrugged. “I made a last-minute decision. I didn’t expect Charles to say yes, but he did . . . so I caught a ride wit
h Harry Goodman.”
“What was it like?” Evie asked, falling into step beside me. “Did you meet anyone famous?”
I smiled. “I auditioned for a film with Humphrey Bogart. I got cast as an extra, ‘the vixen at the bar.’ Oh Evie, I wish you could have been there.”
She grabbed my arm in excitement. “Hot diggity dog! Was Hollywood glamorous? What are the people like?”
I thought of Hollywood Boulevard: the fortune-tellers, the con men, the working girls and the vagrants wearing signs. Then I pictured the Beverly Hills Hotel and Bungalows with its crystal-blue swimming pool, beautiful people, and pink and mint décor.
“It’s . . . different than I imagined, darker and brighter at once. I had a roommate named Roxy. Living there hardened her, I think. And I met another gal, Vera. She was sweet. She shared her lunch with me while we waited in the bus for extras.”
Evie’s eyes looked sad. “Sounds swell.”
I took her hand. “None of those gals compared to you, of course! I missed you, Evie. I’m so sorry I didn’t write.”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, my heart beat faster. I hadn’t much time to complete my shopping, if I were to make it back home to Charles.
“Enough about me,” I said. “Tell me about the Miss America pageant. How was New Jersey?”
Evie smiled. “I didn’t win. And the Jersey boardwalk isn’t as beautiful as ours, but being there was such a gas. Frank loved Atlantic City. I was afraid I wouldn’t get him to leave! We’re lucky to have any savings left after how he gambled.”
“It sounds wonderful,” I said. The Miss California pageant felt like a lifetime ago, though it had only been in June. Taking the mesh bag from my cart, I thrust it toward Evie, trying to keep my voice light. “Doll, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” she said, her amber eyes wide. “What is it?”
“Can you give this to Ricky Cruz? It’s a present for his mother.”
Evie laughed. “Why can’t you give it to him yourself? I hardly know him.”
I swallowed. “You know how Charles feels about Mexicans. He wouldn’t find it proper. But Ricky’s mother is poor. We’re becoming Quakers, you see, and in the spirit of giving, I’ve sewn her something nice.”
Boardwalk Summer Page 18