Anywhere But Here (39 page)

Close to the shore, the water seemed clear. The boom of waves crashing and the plate of green water, washing up on the sand, seemed to wipe out what we said and start the world over, new and clean, every minute.

Farther out black figures of surfers moved, appearing from where we were like letters of the alphabet.

“Look at how early they come out. That’s great. Can you believe we really live here now?” Our hair blew in front of our mouths. “I’d love a house on the beach someday, Josh says that’s what he wants, too. He’s had the house in Beverly Hills with the kids, he’s done that. Now he’d like something else,”

“What about my school?” Beverly Hills kept a strict district. That was why we had to live where we lived.

“There must be a school out here somewhere.”

“Do you think he’ll want to get married again?”

“I don’t know, Ann. We’ll have to wait and see. We’ll just have to see. He’s already paying alimony and child support, you know. And those two will have to go to college, too, still. So I don’t know. It was just a first date. Let’s hope.”

We walked north, against the wind. Sand blew up on my jeans, making a ripping noise.

“He did say, though, at the end, he walked to his balcony and he leaned back and said, Adele, I have never had a first date like this in my life. This was more dynamic and more, close, you know, than any first date in my whole life.

“And I said, I was thinking just the same thing. And it’s true. Really, Ann. I never, never really feel anything on a first date. I told him, it usually takes me a long time to get to know someone. But this man really, really cares about me.”

“Did he say he loved you?”

“Oh, no, Honey, he couldn’t. Adults who’ve been married before just don’t say that to each other right away. That takes a long time.”

“A month?”

“Even longer. A year, maybe. That’s almost like an engagement, saying that at our age. You might not even say it until you just went, Say, here, I bought a ring.”

That made me remember Lolly and her shall-we-say-ring. My mother never got a ring from Ted. They’d decided to put the money towards the house on Carriage Court.

“But he did something. He did something last night that grownups do sometimes that shows you really, really care about someone.”

“What?”

“Oh, Honey, it’s something adults do in bed. But not many people ever do it. It means you really, really like the woman. You’ll know when you’re older. It just means they’re really, really serious about you. They wouldn’t do it with just any woman.”

“How will I know if you don’t tell me!”

“Well, I hope you’re not planning to go to bed with anyone for a long, long time, Little Miss. Because, let me tell you, it wouldn’t be a good idea with boys your age. The men really still want you to be innocent if they’re going to marry you. They may say they don’t, but they really do. It’s different with me, Honey, because I’ve already been married.”

“So when I’m married, how will I know?”

My mother laughed. “You’ll just know. No one ever told me. The way you know never changes. It’ll just happen. And you can tell. You really can.” She sighed. “Boy, can you.”

Farther up, a line of surfers in black wet suits walked towards the shore. In the shallow waves, they rode one hand on the boards, which bobbed ahead like dogs on leashes.

“So whatever this special thing is that Dr. Spritzer did, my dad didn’t do that?”

“Oh, Ann, your father. Honey, your father loved me and he
loved you, too, but he’s an irresponsible man. It wasn’t just us. He left his jobs, everything. He’s a selfish, selfish man.”

The waves broke huge, about ten feet and rounded like perfect glass.

“But, don’t worry, because there’ll be other men in our lives. I’ll catch another father for you, you just wait. Who knows, maybe it’ll be Josh Spritzer. Wouldn’t that be fun to have a doctor and a doctor like him, who looks like that? Everybody likes him, Ann.”

“Even if you marry him, he won’t be my father, though.”

“I don’t know. I think he would. I’ll tell you, a father is someone who. DOES for you and GIVES to you. Not just take, take, take. I mean, what makes your dad your father? Just a little sperm. And genes. What did he ever do for you?”

I shrugged and pulled my collar up. She was right. I couldn’t say anything to that.

“And I’ll tell you, if we play it smart with Josh Spritzer, he may end up being THE adoring dad. Just watch. He told me last night that his kids give him OODLES of trouble. You can’t even imagine, Ann. These kids really have problems. After dinner, we were having coffee and we talked and talked and talked about how worried he is with Andy. He doesn’t even know if Andy can get into college, with his grades, Ann. Can you imagine, with a school like Beverly High and money? You’d think he’d have everything going for him. And he can’t even get the grades. Not even for UCLA. But don’t say anything to any of your kids. Even to Amy. They’re trying to keep it quiet. I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this, because he hasn’t even told Amy. But he thinks Andy may be on drugs.

“Then, at the end, we were just going to leave, he looked at me and smiled—he’s got this huge, bright smile—and he said, I’ve been talking and talking about my kids, and you haven’t said a word about yours. You must have problems with Ann, too.’

“And I said, ‘Well, no, as a matter of fact, I don’t.’ He said, ‘You don’t?’ And he looked at me, like this, you know, and said, ‘You don’t worry about drugs or her getting in with the wrong group of kids or anything?’ And I said, ‘Well, actually, we have
pretty good communication. When she has a problem, she tells me and we work it out together.’

“And let me tell you, he was impressed, Ann. He was thinking to himself, Why aren’t my kids more like her? You can bet.”

We kept walking. She had no idea. I didn’t tell her my problems. But I just jammed my hands farther down in my pockets. I wasn’t going to fight now. I liked Dr. Spritzer.

She yawned. “I’m getting hungry. Should we trek up and see if Alice’s is open?”

The pier seemed a long way off, but we could see the restaurant, with its shingled turret, from where we were. We started diagonally up the sand.

“Wouldn’t you love a dog on the beach? Maybe we should get a dog!” My mother’s voice boomed loud. The ocean always made her optimistic.

The sand became darker and dirty, when we got up near the restaurant. We stood and looked until we found our car, more than a mile down, by the side of the road.

My mother slapped her thigh. “Well, we can eat whatever we want and the walk back will work it off. We need that little exercise.”

She grabbed my hand, right as I turned from the water, to follow the pebbled path to the door. “You know, we made the right choice, coming here. It was hard at first, but look at us now. Look at you. You’re getting braces. With your teeth straight, your face will be just perfect and you’re in Beverly Hills High with the richest and the smartest kids in the world. Really, Ann. The very top, top kids in this world. We never could have had any of this in Wisconsin.”

She stood looking down at my face, waiting for something.

“I’m hungry,” I said.

“You’re really going to be somebody some day. These kids you meet now will be your connections, your milieu, for the rest of your life. I only wish I’d had the chances you’ll have.”

Where we walked in there were overturned chairs stacked on tables. A broom was pitched against the wall. At the front, farther
down on the pier, a waitress walked between tables with a coffeepot. Her thongs flapped loudly on the floor.

We took a table next to the window. There was one surfer, far away. “He shouldn’t be out there all alone,” my mother said. “Do you see another one? They’re always supposed to have a buddy.”

The waitress came to give us coffee. She didn’t ask, she just slapped two mugs down and filled them. The skin on her face seemed tight and her toes looked old with wrinkles. But her hair was bleached white and her legs and arms were downy. She probably wasn’t much older than I was. Her name, on a plastic pin, was Dawn.

“Isn’t this great being up early? It’s just seven now. We’re not usually even up yet. Look at that. Did you see that wave? Absolutely amazing.”

We ordered huge, sloppy omelettes that came with herbed potatoes and raisin wheat bread.

“We’ll get a good breakfast and start the day with protein,” my mother said. After one date, we already felt richer.

“So, when are you going to see him again?”

“Next Saturday night. He’s going to take me to the opera.” My mother sighed. “I’m going to need clothes for all this.” She started biting her hand. She did that when she was nervous. It made her look terrible.

We felt rich for about as long as it took us to eat our food. Then the dread came back. All we’d have to do. Our plates lay almost empty; only crusts and the rind of a pineapple slice. It would be light in Dr. Spritzer’s apartment now. He would be up, moving around. Loose.

“I’m going to have to have clothes and get my nails done. Let me tell you, Ann, there are plenty of women who’d give an arm and a leg to go out with this man. And they can spend all day in the beauty parlor with the manicures and the hairdressers and the leg waxes. And I just can’t.”

“But he liked you.”

“I know. But let’s face it. He saw me in my best thing. The green. And that’s really all I have that’s new.”

“I need clothes, too.”

“Oh, no, Honey. You really don’t. You’re just a child. Remember, I’m the one who has to catch us a man.”

“I’m almost fifteen.”

“I know you are, but believe me, I’m the one who has to find you a father—you really don’t need clothes now. When you really need them is in college. You’re not going to marry any of these boys you know now. They don’t really get serious about you until college. And don’t worry, because by then, you’ll have the clothes and a great big house to bring your kids home to. I think we will by then, Ann. I really do.”

She stared down at her plate and dutifully ate her crusts.

I looked around the restaurant. Then I saw three girls from my school, their black flippers on the floor next to their feet, their hair wet and combed. I panicked. It felt like my mother at Baskin-Robbins. I didn’t want them to see me. They sat across from each other, talking and sipping coffee. I wanted to leave.

“There’s some kids from school behind you. But please don’t look now,” I whispered. Now I hated the clothes I had on.

My mother immediately turned. “Where?”

“Over there, but would you please—”

“Well go say hi to them. Go on, I’ll pay the check and you go over and say hi. Go on. You look real cute.”

“I don’t want them to see me.”

“Don’t be silly. Go on. You know what it is, it’s your insecurity. And you shouldn’t be insecure. You look darling. Really.”

For a second, my eyes lifted, and at that moment, one of them saw me.

“Hi,” she mouthed. “Come on over.”

“They see me,” I said in a low voice.

“Well, I’ll pay the bill, you go on.”

While my mother walked to the cash register, I skipped up the two steps to where they were. They pulled over a chair for me. One of them got up and took a cup from the waitress’s station and poured me coffee. They moved quickly and easily, rearranging themselves and changing like the waves outside.

Huge breakfasts lay in front of them on the table. They each had omelettes with potatoes. There was a bowl of fruit and yogurt and a large plate of thick french toast with powdered sugar in the middle. They had a side order of ham. I felt hungry again. They must have seen me looking.

“Surfing makes you eat a lot,” Leslie said. “We’ve been here since five.”

“They got me out that early.”

“Feels good when you’re in though.”

Windows surrounded the table and the light played now from here, now from over there. They were girls I knew from school, smart girls, who sat near the front of the class and asked questions.

“I better go, I think my mom’s ready to leave.” She stood by the cash register holding her closed purse in front of her. When I looked at her, she smiled.

“That’s your mom? She’s a fox.”

“You guys surf?”

“Leslie surfs. We swim. It just feels good to be out in the morning. What are you doing here? Having breakfast with your mom? You do that a lot?”

“No, she had a big date last night, her first big date in California. So she woke me up and we came here so she could tell me about it.”

Their chins sank on their hands. Their mouths fell loose. They leaned forward on the table.

“She
tells
you?”

I nodded. “We’re pretty close.”

“Did it go all right?” Leslie whispered. “The date?”

“So far. But you never know. They’re so innocent.” I turned and looked at my mother. “You could break her heart with a blow dryer—you guys don’t want this food?”

“You hungry? Here. We’ll order more. Isabelle’s got her dad’s credit card.”

“Do you think she slept with him?”

I nodded. “She did.”

Susan gasped, then caught herself. “Today’s assembly, you know. We don’t have to be there for first section. Until ten. We could give you a ride if you want.”

“Yeah. Stay with us.”

They picked at their food carelessly.

I walked down to my mother. She smiled at me. For once, it was me who touched her arm.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? You looked like you were all having fun up there. I was just watching you. Real cute girls. We’ll do something with them once maybe. I’ll take you kids out to dinner or a movie.”

My mother was walking to the door, as if we were leaving. I followed a little back, trying to slow her. Finally, we were there at the door. She opened it.

“Come on, Pooh.”

I shrugged. “There’s an assembly today, we can come late, so I’ll stay here with them and they’ll give me a ride.”

My mother’s mouth twitched, then remade itself, but differently. “How can those kids drive? They’re only fourteen.”

“Susan’s a junior. She has her license. She got a car for her birthday.”

My mother ran her espadrille on the sand. She was outside already.