Finding Casey (19 page)

Topher reached for her immediately. She pretended she was at the beach in California, that the sounds coming through the window were waves instead of the holiday weekend traffic. Salt breeze—she missed that—on her face instead of stale air forced through a baseboard heater. Some of it felt surprisingly nice, especially when he traced his fingers down her bare skin and cupped her butt in his hands. And her breasts. In his hands, they felt just the right size. Lily told her she should wear a pushup bra, but Juniper liked having small breasts. They didn't get in the way of running, for one thing, and for another, it proved Topher was more interested in all of her than just her cup size.

“Does this feel good?” he whispered into her ear while his hands traveled south. Oh, my gosh, when he touched her between her legs, it was scary how good it felt, as if her heart would pound right out of her chest. He put his leg over hers, and then he was kneeling over her, and all the while kissing her here, and touching her there. Her head spun and she never
wanted it to stop, it felt so good. No wonder Lily and Bernadette were so obsessed with sex. His body felt like one long tense muscle as she ran her fingers around his neck and down his back. She had no idea what she was doing, but she guessed it made him feel good, because he made all these groaning noises and was already fumbling with the condom wrapper, which must have been hard to open, judging from how long the crackling noises went on. As she lay there waiting she almost laughed, but once the plastic tore open he got down to business, pushing her legs open, bumping against her pelvis, and then, boom, he was inside her and it didn't hurt at all. It just felt strangely remote, almost like at the dentist when they stuff that roll of cotton between your gum and your cheek, after they've shot you full of Novocain. Where was the good part?

When she and Casey were young, sent to bed and not tired enough to sleep, they played a game where they'd draw on each other's backs, then try to guess what animal they'd drawn. It was easy for Juniper because Casey always drew a dog or a horse. Casey wasn't very good at drawing, but Juniper liked how it felt, so she'd pretend she couldn't guess, ask Casey to add more details, drawing out the sensation as long as she could. She wished that was what sex felt like, not all this pushing and waiting to feel the great part taking so long. The motel room was dark, but she closed her eyes anyway, and saw a soapy, dishwater-filled sink, her dad at the kitchen table paying bills, her mom ironing his shirt for the next day. It was a perfect memory of
before
anything bad happened. But it was also a sad memory, and it made her eyes tear up, and why was she thinking of that when she was supposed to be having sex with the boy she loved?

She tried to participate, rising up to meet him, and then to talk herself into feeling good. Girl, this is Topher, you love him, but it had stopped feeling nice now, and reminded her of that nasty tattoo guy, how he kept saying her name, and how she'd wished she'd lied and called herself Susan or Debbie or something. Thank goodness Topher didn't talk. He bumped against her like five more times and then he was finished. They laid there in each other's arms, and once her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she saw how ugly the light fixture was, gold metal and white glass with some dark spots that were undoubtedly dead flies. If a fly was in this motel room, it was a sure bet there were maggots within a hundred yards. The glass globe was shaped like a breast, if cyborgs had breasts with brass nipples.
Do not laugh
, she told herself. That would be bad.

“That was awesome,” Topher said.

“Yeah, it was,” she said, crossing her fingers as she said it.

“I told you it would be. Did you have an orgasm?”

“A little one,” she said.

“That's great. I'm sorry I wasn't paying more attention—”

“Shh,” she said, putting a finger to his lips.

“Next time it'll be even better, I promise,” he said. He got up and went to the bathroom. She heard the toilet seat go up. Somehow the sound of him peeing was the most hilarious thing ever. She held the pillow over her mouth until she could stop laughing. Then he switched the boob light on and started getting dressed. She quickly pulled the sheet up over herself. By her watch the whole thing had lasted fourteen minutes. Forty-five dollars for fourteen minutes. That meant that every minute cost three dollars and twenty-one cents. If they'd stayed at La Fonda it would have cost them ten dollars a minute at least. If they stopped at McDonald's or Taco Bell, they could eat something,
and that erased the lie a little bit. “I'm hungry,” she said. “What are you in the mood for? Lotaburger, McDonald's, or La Choza? I'll buy.”

Sunday morning, Halle and Glory had gotten up early so they could walk the dogs down Canyon Road.

“This place reminds me of Mykonos,” Halle had said, pointing to a blue door with
clavos
studs and millwork that looked as if it had been imported from the Mediterranean. “That is the exact same color as the Aegean Sea. I wonder if I'll ever go there again.”

Glory squeezed her arm. “You can go anywhere you want if you want it bad enough.”

Halle tried to smile. “Yeah, by myself.”

“Halle, look at me. I thought after Dan died that was it for me. Now I have Joe.”

“It's just that the first step seems so steep. I don't know where to start.”

“Sure you do,” Glory said. “You're coming back here. As soon as you get back, we'll walk every day, and go to lunch at El Farol. We'll pretend we're rich Santa Fe ladies. We'll go in the galleries and ask questions about forty-thousand-dollar paintings.”

Halle laughed. “I'm pretty sure you're going to be too pregnant to do that, but you can buy me a margarita.”

“I will.”

“I'm holding you to that promise.” They stopped to look in a gallery window, filled with paintings and sculpture. It was too early for any of them to be open, but Glory made sure to point out which ones put out water bowls on the steps for dogs. “Santa Fe is dog-friendly,” she said.

“Maybe I'll get a dog,” Halle said. “Maybe Gopher's grandmother can sell me a Borzoi. Wouldn't that be the most alluring accessory, a Russian wolfhound on the arm of a newly single woman?”

“Men have fallen for less,” Glory said. “Borzois are as independent as cats, though, so don't expect a snuggler like Eddie. They need room to run, and will chase prey to their own detriment. You might want to start with something smaller, like a Silken Windhound. I can look for a breeder that tests for FADS.”

“Why can't I just adopt one? All the time you're telling me to get a shelter dog.”

“And I still believe that. But if you're after a certain breed, find a breeder who tests for genetic faults. They usually have adult dogs to adopt, already housebroken. Believe me, training a puppy is more than you want to take on. Come on now, we need to turn around or you'll miss your plane and Mom will go crazy and we don't want that.”

“Yeah, because she's already wacky enough.”

Glory laughed. “She's just worried for you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” Halle said. “Just once I wish she'd come right out and say so. All my life it's been one dire warning after another. I guess they finally proved true.”

“Halle, you just hold your head up and walk on. Lots of people get divorced. In the long run it'll probably prove to be a blessing. You never know what incredible thing is on its way to you. Look at me.”

“Yes,” Halle said. “My larger-than-life sister who looks like she's about to give birth to triplets.”

Glory laughed. “This baby will be born wearing a size extra-large,
I'm sure of it. But won't it be fun to dress her up like a little cowgirl? And not preach dire warnings to her? She's going to love her auntie Halle, that's for sure.”

“And I plan to spoil her rotten, just like I have Juniper. Is it horrible for me to be jealous of you?”

Glory smiled. “I'm going to remind you of that when I'm in labor. Seriously, Hal, I'm going to need all the help you can give me. Children are a lot harder than puppies. I expect I'm going to get an education and a half.”

They turned around, and just like barn sour horses, plodding on the way out and in a hurry on the way home, the dogs picked up the pace.

All Glory could think while they ate breakfast was that this was their last morning together. The days seemed to fly by and Sunday had come far too quickly. Having houseguests meant extra laundry and meals, but having her family nearby made up for it. Joseph had gone all out making Sunday breakfast. He made his broiled brown-sugar bacon, baked blueberry scones, and a perfectly browned green chile egg puff, which now sat on the kitchen table she'd found on Craigslist and oiled and waxed until it glowed. This morning she covered it with oilcloth patterned with cherries. Set on top of it, the blue calico Staffordshire dishes she'd bought at the consignment shop looked homey and striking at the same time. She planned to pass them on to Juniper one day. Maybe her daughter didn't care about such things now, but one day she would.

They shared the newspaper, which was mostly ads, while Ave did the
New York Times
crossword puzzle. For no reason
Glory could imagine, Juniper got up and took Ave's walker and raced around the house pushing it in front of her, completing one full circuit, the dogs chasing after her. Everyone was laughing. “Time to name your walker, Gran,” she said, and Topher called out, “It has to be Luke, Luke Skywalker,” and even Ave laughed until she was bent over from the effort. When Juniper returned to her seat, she was out of breath and smiling, and that was when it hit Glory that in a matter of hours, they'd all be gone.

“Mom, are you sure you have everything?” Halle asked as they stood in Glory's driveway, and Ave gave her a cranky look.

“What could I possibly have forgotten? Luke Skywalker is hard to miss, and my underwear and my pills fit in my purse. I'm not the one who went on a shopping spree and bought so many new clothes the airline will charge you an arm and a leg for an extra suitcase.”

Halle smiled gently. “I told you, Mom. They're
winter
clothes. I'm leaving them here because I'm coming back, after we find you some home health care.”

“And I told you I don't want some stranger poking around my house. I've gotten along fine without your father my whole life.”

“You'll need someone to take you to the senior center, and your doctor appointments.”

Ave pouted. “Maybe I'll take driving lessons, and buy a new car, too. A little yellow Mercedes twin to yours, so we can both pretend money grows on trees.”

“Ave,” Joseph said. “You don't want a German car. Talk about charging an arm and a leg. A hundred bucks to change your oil. Buy American.”

“This coming from the man who drives a Toyota?”

“Guilty as charged,” he said. “When it falls apart, my next car is going to be a Ford Escape. Those are made in Louisville, Kentucky. Hey, I have a good idea. Why don't you rent out your house and come back with Halle? We'll add on a bedroom. I have a cousin who's a contractor.”

Halle gave Glory a tense look. “That's a great idea,” Glory said, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

“And fall and break a hip in the snow? No, thank you. I grew up in New Mexico, and I don't miss their blizzards. I'm too old for change. Besides, who would feed my birds?”

“Mom, there are hungry birds in Santa Fe, too,” Halle said. “We could find you a lovely place of your own if you like. There are senior centers right nearby that have bridge tournaments and outings to the casinos. Think how much fun gambling would be.”

Ave waved her hand. “Not doing it, so stop your babbling.”

“Look how nice a day this turned out to be,” Glory said, quickly changing the subject. The sun was out and the sky was blue, but the temperature was as cold as if they stood on a mountaintop in Angel Fire. Glory scanned the sky as if doing so would make their drive to the airport and flight home smooth and quick. Hopefully, Ave would fall asleep on the way home. Juniper and Topher came out of the house hauling swollen backpacks and grocery bags filled with leftovers. Topher had the micaceous pot Juniper was taking back to the dorm under his arm, wrapped in bubble wrap. He seemed to warm up the last few days, playing cards with Ave, helping Joseph carry in firewood, clearing the dishes from the table, helping Juniper load the dishwasher. Glory was suspicious of all that help. No guy lifted a finger like that unless he was feeling guilty about
something. She planned to bring it up to Joseph in a few days, to get his assessment of the situation.

“Thanks for your hospitality, Mrs. Vigil,” he said. “I had a great time.”

Joseph shook his hand. “Keep playing that guitar, man,” he said, as if Topher was the next Eric Clapton. Glory read the subtext of the conversation as clear as if it were skywriting.
Adios
and good riddance, you lazy, ambitionless
vato.
Any day now my daughter will realize she can do much better and dump your
Mayflower
jackass.

“Daddy, we have to go,” Juniper said.

“You have a full tank of gas?”

“Yes, and I changed the oil last week, and I don't need any cash. Bye, Gran. Bye, Aunt Halle.” She grinned. “Or I guess I should say, see you later?” She gave Joseph a hug, then turned to Glory. “Take care of yourself, Mom,” she said. “If you need me to come home for anything, just text me, okay? I can be here in fifty-nine minutes.”

“You know how I feel about speeding,” Joseph said.

Glory laughed. “Honey, I'll be fine. You study hard and be safe, and we'll see you at Christmas,” she said, looking at Juniper and noticing a definite change. She leaned in for a kiss and whispered in her ear, “You'd tell me if something was bothering you, right?”