Enemies and Playmates (11 page)

“There’s a dock about a mile down. It’s perfect for waterskiing.” Jesse cocked his head, grinning. “I still plan to get you out there next summer.”

“I’d like that.”

Lauren’s heart skipped faster. She wanted to believe they’d still be together next year. She tried not to think about it.

They continued along the beach, eventually reaching the dock. There they sat watching the few boats skimming along the ocean. Jesse wrapped his arms around Lauren, pulling her close to him. She felt the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. He was warm and gentle and she found herself wishing she could stay wrapped in his arms forever.

As they made their way back to the car, Lauren collected rocks and shells for her aquarium. Their conversation was as natural as the brief silences that fell between them. They were never tense silences, only periods of quiet contentment.

They reached the parking lot, the Mustang still being the lone car. Jesse said, “I brought us something.”

“What?”

“Come and see.” Jesse popped the trunk open and removed a cooler. Inside was a bottle of champagne and a bunch of snacks. “You up for a picnic?” he asked.

Lauren picked up the soft flannel blanket and followed Jesse to the edge of the ocean. She spread the blanket just beyond the water’s reach. The sun was sinking low in the sky, casting the last of its brilliant afternoon rays out to warm them.

They sat in contented silence, listening to the waves crash against the sand while munching on cheese and crackers and sipping champagne. Jesse’s eyes grew serious, though he smiled as he ran his finger lightly across Lauren’s cheek. He traced her lips with his fingertip, then drew her close to him. Their lips met in a slow, tentative kiss. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. Their kisses grew more familiar, more passionate.

A light breeze carried a chill that raised goosebumps on Lauren’s skin. At least she wanted to blame it on the chill, rather than the shiver of pleasure that ran along her spine. Jesse’s lips were soft, his tongue warm and inviting. She slid her hand inside his jacket. The heat of his body warmed her fingers even through his denim shirt.

He withdrew from her lips, kissed her neck, then simply gazed into her eyes. Flustered, she looked away. The last rays of sun were quickly fading away in a splash of brilliant color. Jesse leaned back on his elbows. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes it is,” Lauren said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve watched a sunset.”

Jesse gathered Lauren’s hair in his hands and kissed the back of her neck. Then he pulled her back against him and they watched the final few moments of the sunset. The absence of the warm rays brought a quick temperature drop. Lauren shivered, partly from the cold and partly from the heat of Jesse’s breath against her neck.

“I guess we should get going,” Jesse said.

Lauren reluctantly moved away from the warmth of Jesse’s body. Back in the car, he leaned into her, gently bit her lower lip, then kissed her deeply. She tasted champagne on his tongue. Nothing had ever tasted better.

***

Lauren was in her room working on a history paper when the shouting started. For a few minutes she tried to tune it out and continue writing. It wasn’t long before she found all her attention focused on the voices, so she gave up on the paper and headed downstairs to see what was going on this time.

Lauren stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Stephen paced furiously. His sandy blond hair stood on end and his t-shirt and jeans looked slept in. Kara sat at the table, tears glistening in her eyes. She wore no makeup and was dressed in a lounging outfit with fuzzy slippers. She gripped a handful of tissues that she continually used to dab her nose and eyes.

In contrast, Alex stood by the back door, decked out in a black-on-black pinstriped Armani suit. His charcoal jacquard silk Gucci tie lay perfectly straight. His Dolce & Gabbana wingtip shoes glistened without so much as a tiny scuff mark. His expression showed no feeling. Only his eyes registered that this scene was more than a minor annoyance in his life. But the emotion there was not anguish or sadness for his son. The emotion behind Alex’s eyes was cold anger.

“I’ve listened to enough of this nonsense,” Alex said. He strode toward Stephen. “I don’t know what your mother was thinking. You, Stephen, are right. You don’t need a drug rehabilitation program. The last thing you need is further coddling.” He cast an irritated glance at Kara, then turned back to Stephen. “The only thing you need is to be taught how to behave like a man.”

“Alex, don’t -”

“You are good for nothing,” Alex said. “And your behavior is that of a spoiled brat who has been given far too much.”

Stephen balled his hands into fists. He glared at Alex, stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said.

“Good,” Alex said. “Do you think I want that type of publicity? Your antics run the risk of destroying my reputation. You will straighten yourself out immediately. No more drinking. No more drugs. No more of your good for nothing friends.”

Alex stepped closer, sneering. “I’m actually thinking that a Catholic boarding school may be the best option.”

“No fucking way!” Stephen said.

Alex backhanded Stephen in the face. Stephen’s head snapped back. For a moment he looked as if he would fight back. Then Kara reached out to grab him and he darted away, yanked open the back door and raced into the darkness.

Kara chased after Stephen. “Stephen, come back!” she called. “Please don’t do this.”

Alex moved off toward the living room as if nothing had happened. Lauren bit back her comment as she followed her mother outside. They both watched helplessly as Stephen jumped in his Corvette and sped away.

“He’ll be back when he calms down,” Lauren said.

Kara turned to Lauren, her face streaked with tears. “What have I done?”

10

After a restless night with little sleep, Lauren went downstairs and found her mother in the kitchen. A mug and nearly empty pot of coffee sat on the table in front of her. Lauren sat beside her. “Morning Mom,” she said.

Kara simply nodded, her gaze fixed on the mug in front of her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her skin sallow. Lauren said, “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”

Lauren hoped the same thing. She didn’t feel nearly as confident as she sounded. This certainly wasn’t the first time Stephen hadn’t come home. And their father had been berating him for years now. None of that was new. But last night was the first time she and their mother had taken a stand against him. They had all been against him, at least in his mind.

“You know,” Kara said, “I don’t know his friends anymore. I’ve been sitting here all night thinking about it. I have no idea where he could be, who he could be with. I don’t even know who to call.”

“He’s been very secretive lately,” Lauren said.

“But I should know who my son’s friends are.” Kara shook her head, dabbed a tissue against her swollen eyes. “I shouldn’t have come down on him the way I did. I should have handled the situation differently.”

“It’s not your fault, Mom.”

“I should have done something years ago. I saw him retreating into that shell. I saw what was happening but…” Kara’s voice trailed off. She twisted the tissues in her hands and stared at the back door.

“I have an idea where he might be,” Lauren said. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

Lauren went upstairs, brushed her teeth, threw her hair into a ponytail, and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. Five minutes later she was back downstairs. Kara still sat at the table, staring blankly at the back door. Lauren kissed her cheek and said, “I’ll be back soon.”

The bright sun was deceptive. A brisk wind blew, chilling Lauren to the bone. She realized she should have grabbed a jacket but didn’t want to take the time to go back inside for it. She had a sudden sense of desperation, like the fragile house of cards that was her life was on the verge of toppling around her.

She hopped into her Pontiac and turned the ignition. She pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her hands to grasp the cold steering wheel. And she muttered a quiet prayer as she sped off.

Traffic was heavy. Seven forty-five and everyone was headed for work or school. Lauren cranked the heat as she maneuvered through the congested streets. She tried to ignore the scenery as she passed the projects of East Boston. Ten-year-olds smoking cigarettes as they waited for the school bus. Groups of kids who had no intention of going to school huddled in alleys to keep out of the wind.

How had Stephen fallen into this world? Was he the token rich kid who provided money for the others’ entertainment? Or was it that she and Stephen weren’t so different from these kids at all? Money and status separated them. Abuse and the need to escape held them together.

Lauren circled the neighborhood twice before finding a parking space. She jogged the half block to the apartment house, ignoring the lewd remarks from two addicts smoking crack in an alley. By the time she raced up the rickety steps, her nose was frozen and her fingertips were numb.

She hesitated outside Kevin’s door. No music wafted out. No voices. No sign that anyone was awake inside. But Stephen’s black Corvette had been in the driveway, jammed between a rusted pickup and a beefed up Chevy. If he was asleep, she’d just have to wake him up. She’d get him to go home with her, though she had no specific plan on how to do that.

She took a deep breath, told herself to relax, and gave a tentative knock against the door. No sounds inside indicated that anyone had heard her. She knocked again, harder this time. A few moments passed before the door finally swung open. Kevin peered out through eyes heavy with sleep. His gaze settled on Lauren, then his face lit up with a smile.

“Hey there, lovely lady,” he said. He swiped his hand through his hair, pushing it from his face. Then he stepped aside, pulling the door open wide. “C’mon in.”

Lauren moved past Kevin and into the living room where Stephen was slumped in a corner of the sectional. He held a nearly empty quart of Jack Daniels. His eyes were closed. He reeked of booze. “Stephen?” Lauren said. “Wake up.”

Lauren sat on the edge of the couch beside Stephen. His eyelids drooped. His face was pasty white. She wasn’t even sure he recognized her. She said, “Let’s go outside. Get some fresh air.”

Stephen raised the whiskey bottle to his lips. He took a long swallow, most of which dribbled down his chin. He muttered, “He’s a bastard.”

“No…” Stephen stared at a spot somewhere in the distance. His eyes rolled back, then he shook his head and focused on her again. “I ain’t never going back there.”