California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances

by Casey Dawes

  “David’s mad at me,” Annie announced.

  “Did you really expect him to jump up and down for joy when you told him you’re taking him away from his friends?”

  Annie suddenly realized that she’d expected him to do just that. “I suppose I was unrealistic. He was so easy when he was younger. Everything was a big adventure. Now I suppose waking up in the morning and finding out how your body changed during the night is the big adventure.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Give him time. It’s a lot to adjust to. How are you doing? Seen any more of the bookstore owner?”

  “He called me about an hour ago.”

  “Wow. He’s interested. What did he say?”

  Annie told her about the invitation.

  “You’re going, of course,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s not fair to encourage him. Not when I’m going away. And … the truth is … I’m scared.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve got to admit, the men in my life haven’t been very nice. And … I’m never sure what they want — are they going to be like my dad who made my mother stay home and serve his every need?”

  “Most men don’t expect that these days.”

  She chuckled. “No, they expect more. I think we women messed up when we said we could do it all. Men believed us!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “You’ve got that right. But you’ve got a lot going for you. You’re pretty and smart. A good mother … ”

  “Stop it,” Annie said lightly. Her friend was the best — always boosting her spirits. “I don’t feel like a good mother at the moment.” She told Elizabeth what had happened during dinner. “He’s barely talking to me and he’s borderline rude. What am I going to do?”

  “Wait. There’s not much more you can do right now. You’re a fierce mama bear when it comes to your son. Right now he needs to go climb his own tree. He’ll come down when he’s ready.”

  “I hope you’re right. How are things with Bobby?”

  “The same. He wants to get married and I don’t. He tried to have a serious discussion about it at George’s last night.”

  Annie laughed. “George’s? That restaurant is so loud you can barely discuss the weather, much less getting married!”

  “He tried, but he gave up.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Wait. He’ll get tired of asking and we can go on like we were before.”

  “Are you sure that’s what he’ll do?”

  “Totally. We love each other. That’s all that matters. We don’t need a formal ceremony to seal the deal.”

  Annie was thoughtful when she hung up the phone. She hoped Elizabeth was right.

  David returned by curfew, and even spent a few minutes chatting with her about soccer practice. She felt herself relax. Maybe Elizabeth was right about that, too. He just needed to be on his own for a little while.

  Chapter 5

  John stared at his reflection in the mirror and brushed back his hair. Maybe it was time to get a haircut. The cuffs on his denim shirt were getting frayed, too. Mentally, John went through his closet. His other shirts weren’t much better. He was going to need a serious upgrade to go courting. He smiled at the old-fashioned phrase his mother had been fond of using.

  He shook off his memories, popped a slice of sourdough bread in the toaster and grabbed a cup of black coffee. Would Annie agree to a ride? If she did, would he feel the same easy companionship that he had with Jessica? I hope so.

  The toast popped and he slathered it with butter and jam. Standing at the counter, he ate his breakfast and remembered rides with Jessica along the banks of the Bitterroot River. It had been one of their favorite outings before she’d gotten sick five years ago. They often rode in silence to encourage birds and small animals that lived near the water to show themselves. Losing her had left a hole in his life.

  I miss you, Jessica, but it’s time to fill that hole.

  Glancing at his watch, John put the empty plate in the sink, poured the rest of his coffee in his travel mug, and went out the back door to his truck, ignoring the overgrown lawn on his way. He needed to find somewhere of his own to live — or buy a goat. He’d call a realtor today.

  “Hi, boss,” Sunshine called out from behind the register when he walked into the store fifteen minutes later. “Glad to see you finally made it.”

  “Staff meeting in a half hour,” he snapped and strode to the stairs leading up to his office. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with his store manager. She was too good at figuring out what he was thinking.

  A stack of mail sat on his desk. He recognized his handwriting on the top envelope and tossed it in a corner with annoyance — probably another rejection of his novel. He’d been really hopeful this time — the agent had taken a long time to get back to him.

  John concentrated on his paperwork, thrusting all thoughts of novels, women, and goats from his head until he heard the clomp of Sunshine’s boots on the stairs.

  “I thought you’d want the next week’s schedule before the meeting. Jamie has exams next week and she’s asked for time off. We’ll need to find someone to cover.”

  He pawed through his papers and picked up the phone. “Thanks.” He stared at the receiver, not remembering why he’d picked it up.

  Sunshine perched on a stool and tossed her gray braid over her shoulder. “So, are you going to ask her out?”

  He flicked a glance at her that should have telegraphed, It’s none of your damn business.

  She didn’t get the message. “Well?”

  He sighed. “I already have.”

  “And?”

  “She’ll get back to me.”

  “Give me a break. That’s polite-woman speak for ‘no.’ You need to call her again.”

  “Not everyone is as pushy as you are.” He looked at his watch. “Why don’t you get everyone together for the meeting?”

  “Yes, boss.” She paused. “But I still think you should call her again.”

  He looked at the phone that was still in his hand. Maybe he should.

  • • •

  During the commute to work that morning, Annie spotted signs of spring around her. The towering redwoods sported new growth while Scotch broom announced the change of seasons with bright yellow flowers. Lexington Reservoir glinted with the morning sun as scull boats glided effortlessly across its waters.

  She divested herself of her computer bag and raincoat when she reached her office. Time to tackle Number 3 on her list — find out the job details from Randy.

  His office door was closed. She took a deep breath and rapped.

  “Come in.”

  She opened the door and gazed at the paper-strewn mess. Sitting down wasn’t an option. “Can you tell me about the job in New Jersey?”

  Randy looked up from his computer. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’d really hate for the company to lose you.” He dug through his papers. “It’s a project management job for a new release — make sure the software is compliant with Common Criteria — you know, government stuff.” He handed her the paper and went back to his screen.

  She scanned the job posting.

  He clicked a few keys and looked up. “Sorry, Annie, I really need to get this presentation out. Anything else?”

  “Do you know the reporting manager?” She looked back down at the papers. “Jim Borzetti? Have you heard anything about him? Will the company pay for relocation?”

  Randy gestured at the paper in her hand. “That’s all I know about the job. Contact the manager who posted the job and ask him. I’ll be happy to give you a good reference. He might want to see you for an interview. Those East Coast managers are big on ‘face time.’ Can you handle that?”

  “I suppose.” Damn! She hadn’t been
on an interview in years. What if she flubbed it?

  He rubbed his temples. “I know change is tough. Until the economy turns around, it’s going to be like this for a while. Be glad you have a shot at a job.” He turned back to his screen.

  “Thanks, Randy.” She put her hand on the doorknob.

  “Annie? One more thing. I know doing interviews is tough, but you can handle it. You know your field and you’re good at what you do.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Good luck.” The click of the computer keys restarted.

  When she got to her office, she took out her list, carefully crossed out “Randy” and put in “NJ Director Jim … ” She glanced at the papers Randy had given her. “ … Borzetti.”

  She plugged in her hot pot for tea, brought up a browser on her computer and searched for “Common Criteria.” A quick scan of the organization’s website told her why the project was a problem. Documentation was needed — lots of documentation. And one thing that programmers hated to do was documentation.

  Ugh.

  While the tea brewed, she composed an e-mail introducing herself to Jim. She finished it and read it over and over, making minute corrections until it was as perfect as she could get it. She pressed Send.

  She put a squiggle next to item Number 3 on her list. Started, but not finished. She spent the rest of the day cleaning out her office, tying up loose ends of the project that was ending and going to meetings. At the end of the day, there was still no response from Jim.

  David wasn’t home when she got there. A note on the refrigerator said, “Out with Larry. Be back later.”

  Her stomach gave a queasy lurch. She had a bad feeling about Larry. He hadn’t been able to look her in the eye when they’d met. Instead, his eyes had darted everywhere, as if he were on the lookout for an opportunity — or trouble. Should she forbid David to see him? What reason could she give — that she didn’t like the way he dressed? He had shifty eyes? And would forbidding him really change what David did when she wasn’t around? She sighed. Time to start dinner. She’d make spaghetti carbonara, another of David’s favorites.

  The pasta water had started to boil when the phone rang.

  “Mrs. Renquist?” a male voice asked.

  “Ms. Gerhard, but yes, I used to be Mrs. Renquist. Who’s this?”

  “This is Detective Ramos at the Costanoa Police Station. We have your son in custody.”

  • • •

  Annie found the police station with no problem.

  “You have my son, David Renquist,” she said to the woman in the glass information booth.

  The woman flicked a look at her computer and hit a few keys. “Have a seat in the lobby. Detective Ramos will be out to get you.”

  In the background she could hear the sound of steel doors opening and closing. At every clank, her stomach turned.

  A middle-aged Latino in a light brown jacket and slacks bustled into the lobby. He ran his finger around the inside of his shirt collar, loosening it against a constricting tie as he walked toward her. “Ms. Gerhard?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Detective Ramos.” He thrust his hand out and she shook it quickly. He gestured toward the door in the rear of the lobby. “Let’s go in the back.”

  “What’s my son supposed to have done?”

  “He stole some liquor and CDs from a drug store.”

  “David wouldn’t do that.”

  “We’ll discuss it further in the back, Ms. Gerhard.” He thumbed a button by the side of a solid metal door. A loud buzz and click signaled a lock release and he pushed the door open.

  The detective led her to a small room with a metal table and four chairs. He waved at a chair on the far side of the table and she sat down, her muscles clenched.

  “I’ll be right back,” the detective said, closing the door behind him.

  Alone in the room, she tried to gather her wits about her. What was she going to do? What had David been thinking?

  The door jerked open and David came into the room. She leapt to her feet and took a step toward him.

  “Sit down, Ms. Gerhard,” the detective said. She obeyed.

  David sat, gave her a brief glance, and then focused his eyes on the table between them.

  “I understand you and David’s father are divorced,” Ramos said.

  She nodded.

  “Do you have sole custody of your son?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re legally and financially responsible for him.” The detective opened a folder he had in front of him and perused the papers. “David was caught shop-lifting from the L and L Drug Store by the store manager shortly before five P.M. Your son had a small bottle of vodka and a couple of CDs in his pockets.”

  She started to protest, but the detective held up his hand.

  “We have it on the store surveillance camera,” he said. He turned to David and said, “You want to tell us about it?”

  David looked at his hands, glanced at the detective, and looked back at the steel gray table. “I was with these guys. They said it would be really easy for me to get something out of L and L ’cause I was a kid.” He paused. “They said they’d give me money to get a bottle of vodka. It’d be easy.”

  “Who were they?” the detective asked.

  “I don’t know,” David replied. “Some random guys I met downtown.”

  “I thought you were with Larry,” she interrupted.

  “I ditched him. He got into playing chess in front of Starbucks. It was way boring, so I took a walk.”

  “And then you met these guys … these strangers,” the detective prompted.

  “They weren’t exactly strangers. I’d seen ’em with Larry. They knew my name and everything.”

  “Why?” Annie asked. “Why did you do this?”

  David shrugged.

  She hated it when he shrugged. “Why?” she repeated.

  “I dunno. I guess I wanted to see if I could do it. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I guess not.”

  David opened his mouth to say something and closed it again.

  She looked at her son in bewilderment. It was as if she were seeing a stranger; someone she didn’t know at all.

  “Is there anything else you want to tell us?” Detective Ramos asked.

  David looked down at his hands and shook his head.

  The detective shuffled the papers in front of him. “Because your son is a juvenile and this is his first offense, we’re going to release him to your custody. You’ll need to bring him back to court in two weeks at four P.M. on the twenty-first.”

  He scribbled on one of the papers in front of him and pushed it across to David with a pen. “Sign there. You’re not acknowledging guilt. You’re saying you’ll be in court at the appointed time to face the charges against you.” He looked at Annie. “His signature’s a formality. Because he’s a minor, the only one that counts is yours.”

  David signed the papers and pushed them over to her. She scanned them and signed.

  Detective Ramos put the signed papers into his folder and stood up. “I’ll take David back for processing and then he’ll be released to you in the lobby.”

  They left the concrete room and she went to wait.

  Now what? Would it be worth hiring a lawyer, or should she use the public defender? Waiting for David to sort things out on his own hadn’t turned out well. She wished she had someone to talk with. A man’s point of view would be nice.

  Forty-five minutes later, David walked through the door with the detective behind him.

  Ramos handed her the release papers and looked at David. “Stay out of any more trouble.” He turned and walked away.

  She stared at her son.

  “Let’s
go, Mom,” he said and walked out the front door. She followed, her mind racing as she tried out all the things she might say. Were you out of your mind? This could go on your record! You could have been hurt!

  She said nothing.

  When they got home, David slammed into his room. She went right after him.

  “No you don’t,” she said, her voice cold with anger and fear. “You aren’t going into your room and closing the door without having a conversation with me first.”

  “What do you want me to say, Ma?” he asked. “Fine. If you want to lecture me, get it over with and let me get some sleep. I’m tired.”

  “I don’t care if you’re tired, young man. I want to know what you think you were doing.”

  He continued to glare at her with his arms crossed for another minute before slumping onto his bed. His skin had a gray hue and dark circles underscored eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. Annie felt the tension begin to seep out of her body.

  “I’m sorry, mom. I don’t know. I feel crazy. When we lived with Dad, you were angry all the time. You split us up and it was better, I guess. But now you want us to move to nowhere New Jersey. If I don’t go, I lose you. If I do go, I lose everything else. It’s not fair.”

  She sat next to him on his bed.

  “No, it’s not fair. I know you want to stay here. I wish we could. But I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of the money it’s going to take to get you through Berkeley. Even living here is expensive.”

  “It’s always about money with you. What about our lives? What about my friends? I don’t have to go to Berkeley if it means I can stay here.”

  She started to stroke his head, but he pulled away.

  “Honey, I’m trying to keep you safe. I worry about you. No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my kid. What you did is bad — it could screw up your future. Promise me you won’t do anything this stupid again.” She hugged his stiff body and said, “You’re grounded, you know. Probably for the rest of your life.” She smiled at him, her heart aching.

  “Okay. Can I sleep now?”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”