Awake (13 page)

-22-

Kat slides into my car and stops cold as she stares at my haircut. She needs a minute to process. Okay, she needs two minutes to process.

“Cute,” she finally says. “Real cute.”

I need a minute myself to process her simple, polite reaction. “Ah, thanks. Do you feel alright, Kat?”

“I’m fine and now I know where you’ve been the last ten days,” Kat says as a devilish grin begins to betray itself on her face.

“Here it comes,” I say playing along. “Where have I been?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she says licking her lips. “You’ve been having a red-hot threesome with your new lesbian best friends Lindsay Lohan and Ellen DeGeneres.”

I laugh. “Well played, but don’t make me laugh. I’m not in the best mood these days.”

“Oh, honey, why? Did you get in a cat fight with Chaz Bono?”

I am less amused now and she notices.

“Erin, are you okay?” she says suddenly concerned.

“No, but I will be,” I say quietly.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she says.

“Let’s shop first. I need to do something human.”

“Okay, baby girl. Momma’s here now and it’s going to be okay,” Kat says with a tenderness she rarely shows to anyone. She reaches out and holds my hand, which we haven’t done in years.

“According to Tula,” I say changing the subject, “I have to avoid overdressing in support of my retro hairstyle.”

“I know just the place for that hair,” Kat says. “Up in Los Feliz there’s a shop that sells all kinds of Jazz Age jewelry and clothing.

“This isn’t a costume party I’m dressing for,” I remind Kat.

“They got what you need, just tell them how you want it and they will work it out. That’s how these shops work.”

“You’ve been to this place?” I ask.

“In high school, I dated that thrash rock guy who was like thirty,” she says with a guilty grin.

“That’s right! You found out he was thirty-two. What was his name? Kristor?”

“Kristor was a freak,” Kat says.

“He was twice your age and lied about it. That’s a borderline pedophile,” I say.

“Oh, Erin, I gave him no choice and I was hardly a child. I was already a D cup at sixteen.”

“Okay, Kim Kardashian, sorry to bag on Kristor the freak.”

“We went to this steam punk fetish party,” Kat says. “We geared up at this place. They can create whatever. Trust me.”

“Right. I’ll trust the girl who goes to steam punk fetish parties.”

We spend twenty minutes at the shop trying on outfits and being cheerful with Lanie who owns the shop and yet is working alone on Saturday. She’s older than our mothers but has boundless energy.

Lanie finds the perfect, understated dress with a retro feel, but it’s a shoulderless brush denim thing that could just as easily fit in a casual modern setting.

“I love it,” Kat says. “Pay the lady.”

“Get something for yourself,” I tell Kat.

“Big mistake,” she says as she hurries right over to a circle rack to get to work spending daddy’s money.

I take out my credit card and hand it to Lanie.

“I’ll ring you up,” she says.

“This place is awesome,” I say and then head back to change out of my dress.

I catch a glimpse of myself passing a mirror and for an instant I think it’s someone else. I seem a completely different person in so many ways than the girl who made love to Wade standing in the window of a Vegas hotel suite last weekend.

In the changing room, I strip down to my bra and panties and stare at the full-length mirror. Images of his hands on every part of my body flood my mind. I remember him inside me. I remember him whispering.

* * *

Kat and I sit at a window booth at Barney’s Beanery in West Hollywood. We’re nursing pints of Fat Tire Amber Ale because Barney’s makes you want to drink pints of funny beer. We’re pretty much done with our chips and salsa and are now waiting for our main dishes.

I have completely caught her up on my boy drama.

“Erin, that’s really so tragic. Like Titanic without the drowning,” she says as huge dishes of bar food are being set on the table in front of us.

“Well, now that you mention it,” I say as I smile for the waitress before she leaves our table.

“Mention it?” Kat says perplexed.

“Remember Kip’s party,” I remind her.

“Oh my God, we never talked about that,” she says. “Was that like a cry for help?”

“No, I wouldn’t have drowned. I was trying to get the world to shut up for two seconds in my own drunk, drug-induced way.”

“Maybe not intentionally,” Kat says with a sincerity that makes me uncomfortable. “Kip did find you down there with eyes wide open and smiling like a loon.”

“My own private Leonardo,” I joke.

“Ah, he’s my Leo. Don’t make me cut you,” she says.

“Lucky you.” I try but fail to sound enthused.

“I’m just messing around,” she says. “Kip and I are just of the moment so to speak.”

“Honey, you don’t have to hide your happiness because of my bad luck,” I tell her. “Really, I’m happy for you.”

“What can I do?” Kat asks. “True love should override everything.”

“Do nothing,” I say dead serious. “Promise me you will just keep your hands off the whole situation.”

She lifts her hands and smiles innocently in surrender.

“I’m totally serious, Kat. This is how I need it to be. I will not destroy everyone including my father for some lustful curiosity. I’m not that girl. In fact, I fucking hate that kind of girl.”

“You’re no fun. Then how do we get you beyond this?”

“How does Bora Bora sound?” I say with a wink.

“Excuse me?” she says with restrained excitement.

“My father’s graduation gift to us,” I explain. “All expenses to anywhere in the world. Me and you.”

She exhales and smiles greedily. “Erin, I love you, but you are playing some kind of practical joke right now—“

“No joke. We can leave in two weeks. Can you get out of work?”

“This can’t be real. Really?” She grins like I have never seen her. “I want to like sleep with your whole family to say thanks.”

I laugh. “That’s sweet, but I think we’re good. Not necessary.”

“Oh my fucking God, Erin!”

I pull out a brochure and try to hand it to her, but she snatches it from my hand instead. Her mouth hangs open as she stares at the images of the over water huts on a turquoise lagoon.

“But I’m not even graduating,” she says.

“Consider it an early graduation gift for next year.”

“I’m getting out of work. Book it. This is going to be epic and you’ll forget about all this drama.”

“That would be good,” I say knowing it’s not true, but her excitement does begin to feel like a small murmur of hope.

We leave Barney’s and most of our food behind. My mood has temporary improved enough to enjoy Kat’s humor as we drive down Santa Monica Boulevard towards Westwood.

I notice something familiar ahead of us. It’s Wade’s license plate about ten cars ahead driving in the same direction. Kat notices that I’ve noticed something when I don’t respond to something I was saying. She waits patiently for an explanation.

When I see his Jaguar pull into a small inlet of metered parking to the right, I turn to Kat. “Pull over up there as far back as you can and park,” I command her.

“What is it?” she says. “Is it him?”

I don’t answer her until he parks ahead and we quietly park three cars behind him. “I think this is the spot where his restaurant was going to be,” I answer her.

His head turns to stare at the facade of an empty storefront that was most recently an office supply store. I can see the blurred image of him through the lightly tinted windows of the cars parked between us.

“This is too sad,” Kat whispers as if he can hear.

My heart aches to hold him. I want to make every one of his dreams come true, but I have to let him go. I know that.

“Can we go?” I ask Kat quietly. She reacts immediately and pulls back into traffic. I slide down in my seat as my heart sinks and we pass his car on the way back to Westwood.

-23-

The morning of my graduation party I have a late breakfast with my father. He notices but does not mention my hair. My stepmother has already gone over to the Wexlers for some last minute party planning.

He surprises me by not only cooking breakfast but serving it as well. When Della tries to help him, he chases her away and tells her to go get dressed for the party.

“Della’s coming to the party?” I smile.

“The entire house staff will be there today as guests to celebrate your big day,” he says. “Gloria’s idea.”

My stepmother can be incredibly thoughtful. “That’s so cool,” I say. “Della’s like my big sister.”

“She’s good people,” he says as he finally sits down to join me.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” I say. “And no one, not even Della, can cook an old fashioned breakfast like you.”

I get up, wrap my arms around my father’s neck and kiss his cheek.

“Breakfast is the best meal for family,” he says. “The day’s just starting and the Sun’s breaking and there’s possibilities.”

“Back in Minnesota, I loved waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking,” I add. “I’d run down the stairs and find nothing but smiles and deliciousness.”

“Dinner is overrated,” he says buttering his toast. “Everyone is tired and thinking about the day gone by.”

“Daddy, you are hardly ever done working by dinner. Not then and not now.”

“Maybe you’re right. Dinner’s for other people, I guess,” he says reflectively.

“Kat and I have decided to go to Bora Bora,” I tell him. “That’s the most amazing graduation gift. Thank you.”

“Really? That’s great. I was hoping you would enjoy an adventure or two after all those years with your nose in the books. Richly deserved, sweet pea.”

He pats my hand. I take the opportunity to grab his hand and hold it. “Maybe we could take a trip some day,” I suggest. “When you’re done working till dark.”

“There’s an idea,” he says unsure. “That will definitely go on the bucket list.”

“Bucket list, Dad?” I say. “Going on vacation with your family is not something you do at the end of your life, it’s what you should be doing every year. It’s better when you’re still young enough to enjoy it.”

He exhales and looks at me a long time. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been buried in work more than ever the past few years.”

“It’s okay. I knew you loved me and I knew you were afraid,” I say.

“Afraid, Erin?” he says uncertainly. “How do you mean?”

I roll my eyes as I chew on the crispiest bacon I have ever tasted. “This bacon is so incredible,” I say ignoring his question.

“The company’s fine,” he says unconvincingly. “My family’s healthy. There’s no reason to be afraid.” His eyes betray something new, maybe curiosity or vulnerability.

“Is this why you’ve had me followed for nine years?”

His cheeks take on a blush as he wipes his greasy mouth with a napkin. “Rodrigo?” he asks.

“Daddy, I’m twenty-one. I am not a little girl. It’s extremely irrational to have me followed not to mention a huge invasion of my privacy.”

“He’s just there to protect you, not follow you.”

“It’s over,” I demand. “Never again.”

“Agreed,” he says. “Maybe I should have cut it off by now.”

“You should have never done it in the first place,” I say. “You were afraid of losing me. You hurt so much when we lost Mom. I understand it, but it hardly excuses stealing away a lifetime of privacy.”

He stops eating and sets down his fork. “I didn’t know what to do after your mother died. I was making it up as I went.”

“I would have preferred it greatly if you had just spent time with me,” I say. “I wouldn’t have cared about any mistakes as long as we were together. That’s all it takes. The rest of it is bullshit anyway.”

He wipes his brow and searches for words.

“I’ve always been afraid,” I say relieving his burden to speak. “Letting people get close seemed like too big of a risk.”

“That’s a silly philosophy, Erin,” he says.

“Really?” I say. “I learned it from the best. Seems to me a person can avoid deep human relationships if they stay at work.”

He laughs. “No one has called me to task like this in a long time.”

I laugh too. “They’re all intimidated by the great Jack Cassidy.”

“My own daughter is not overly impressed,” he says.

“It’s not that at all,” I explain. “I just want you to remember what mother always used to say about people.”

He hangs his head sadly like he always does when I mention my mother, his dear departed wife. “What did she say?”

“She said to never forget that we are all works in progress,” I say. I barely get the last word out without becoming emotional. The sound of her voice invades my brain like the sweetest song ever sung.

“She did say that, didn’t she?” My father nods.

I nod back and reach out again to him. He takes my hand like I am his little girl. My heart warms sweetly as if I still am.

“There was a magic about her, a light that I see in you sometimes,” he says. “I’d hate to ever see that stop shining.”

“Then how about you take me to Ireland next year,” I say. “Gloria can come too, but you have to promise no business at all.”

“Ireland?”

“You’ve always wanted to go,” I remind him.

“Okay. I think that can be arranged, but let’s make it just you and I on this trip. We have some catching up to do.”

I jump out of my seat and give him a big bear hug like he always does on my birthday. “I love you,” I whisper hiding my watering eyes.

“I love you,” he says so quietly I can just make it out.

Della comes in dressed beautifully in an old fashion flower dress. My father quickly composes himself having been caught in a heartfelt moment. I watch his eyes light up when he sees how beautiful Della becomes when she wears makeup and a flattering dress.

“You two get up off your butts and get dressed,” she says. “We can’t be late to Erin’s own party for crying out loud.”

* * *

Rodrigo drives down the long driveway and drops us at the front door of the Wexlers. He has declined an invitation to attend, but Della tells me he sent along a big present with my stepmother. The two extra cars parked out front are most likely Tori’s grandparents. The party is not scheduled to begin for thirty-five minutes.

Della, father and I are let into the house and are quickly met by Tori who seems extremely anxious to see us. She looks positively virginal in an all white lace dress (to the mid thigh) with a spectacular Peruvian style bead necklace adorning her tan cleavage.

“It’s the Cassidys,” Tori says and gives my father a formal hug.

“You look charming today, Tori,” my father says somehow keeping his eyes on her eyes and not her more womanly parts.

“Thanks, Mr. Cassidy,” she says.

“You can call me Jack from now on,” he tells her. “You’re a graduate after all.”

“That will take some practice,” Tori says. “Your wife is back there with my mother and the staff.”

Tori points to the back of the house. My father follows Della to search for Gloria and Joyce. When I try to head in that direction, Tori grabs my arm and pulls me to her roughly.

“We need to talk,” she says urgently.

She leads me into a private study and not only closes but locks the door behind us. The thought occurs to me that I might never leave this room alive. Her anxiousness is freaking me out.

“What is it?” I say as nonchalantly as I can muster.

She paces around and glances at me a couple times.

“What, Tori? You seem frazzled.”

She pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. She tries to smooth it out and hands it to me angrily. “Do you have any idea how Wade’s car was towed from out in front of your building at 3:32 am on a Friday night?”

I stare down at the parking violation ticket. Time stamped and addressed. Bluffing for time to think, I read the details of the ticket twice and act as perplexed as possible.

“See there,” she clarifies. “That’s the twelve hundred block of Manning. I google mapped it and that’s the Ashton. Manning is your cross street, right?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “What am I looking at?”

“It’s a fucking parking ticket for illegal parking. It came in the mail at our apartment. They even towed his car away. The bastard was up in your building busy and just left his car in the street.”

“I’m not quite getting this,” I say. “Wouldn’t you want to talk to Wade about this? See what he has to say. Maybe it’s nothing. You’re just thinking the worst because you’re upset.”

“The Ashton is full of pretty
debs
like you, but you’re the only one I know that he knows.”

“My building is also full of guys and there are many apartment buildings near that corner. Maybe his car broke down.”

“I think he went to Vegas with another woman last weekend,” she says taking a seat behind a big antique desk.

“Oh, what makes you think that?” I say almost sheepishly. I immediately hope she does not notice my nervousness.

“I’m not an idiot. I installed a tracking app on his phone last week. Saturday morning he was there and then his phone must have gone dead. Erin, are you fucking my fiancé? I know he was in Vegas and I know your mother could not reach you all weekend.”

Shock overcomes me, which is good because now I don’t have to pretend to be shocked by her question. I’m a terrible actor. “Tori, what are you saying? What a crazy question!”

“You’re the only new girl in his life,” she says trying to go over the facts in her head. “You become shelter buddies with him and then one day he breaks off our engagement. His car gets towed from in front of your building and you’re missing the weekend he disappears to Vegas.”

“Tori, I am not sleeping with Wade. I was studying last weekend and I did not want to talk to my stepmother. That happens a lot.”

“I don’t know what to think,” she says. “All my instincts tell me he is sleeping with someone.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I say.

“If it’s you, Erin…” she says then stops.

“I would never sleep with your fiancé,” I say trying to sound offended. I keep my mind focused on the fact that Wade and I never had sex until after they had split, technically.

“On your mother’s grave?” she says testing my commitment.

“Sure,” I say losing patience. “Now can we get back to our party? This is a horrible way to begin it. Forget all about him today. It’s your day. Have some fun.”

That’s easier said than done. I know I will not be able to do it.