Chapter Ten
THE NEXT MORNING I hopped into the shower and allowed the water to wash away my sins. The soapy lather cleansed the filth and reminded me that today needed to be special. I had already forgotten about my mother, and after getting dressed, I sat at the dining table, sorting out receipts. Jamie was freshly dressed when he popped out into the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of cereal.
“When’s he coming?” Jamie asked as he lifted the bowl to his lips.
“Aren’t you his best bud? I don’t want to talk to him.” I placed my old-fashioned paper checking register into my purse as my dad had taught me to do. Online banking was easy, but my traditional upbringing had instilled the way of paper to get things done.
Jamie rolled his eyes. “I wonder what y’all’s chemistry would be like.”
“What does that mean?”
He took a seat across from me, his eyes like firecrackers. In the glow of the morning light, Jamie looked dapper, like a handsome duke. His bone structure was fine and chiseled, and there was no doubt of his appeal to many women. Yet I’d never been one, because he was a brother to me, a father, and a son. People thought we were adopted siblings; they never mistook us for a couple. Some of my pals had asked me if I ever wanted to kiss Jamie—because they obviously did—but the thought made me want to barf.
“I don’t know, maybe it means that you guys have this sexual frustration or something. You guys like to bicker, that’s for sure. And Sam doesn’t bicker with people. You bring out the worst in him, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said, glaring at him from across the table. “If you think I am in any way attracted to Sam Woodshaw…”
“Why wouldn’t you be? He’s good-looking, has a decent sense of humor, is interested in you—and that’s a huge deal, my dear Emma.”
“Oh, give me a break. He’s interested in girls who’re like Annabel Tipton, I’m sure. Not people like me.”
He mimicked my voice with a snarky little, “Oh, give me a break. You’re just too sensitive to see that a man likes you. A man who isn’t me.”
“James, you are a fickle thing.”
“Look in the mirror.”
A few minutes later, a rap filled the silence, and Jamie hurried over to open the door. Ella appeared, a thin, lithe biracial goddess with bouncy curly hair. I was shocked at how gorgeous she was when she wasn’t puking into the toilet, and a flare of surprise electrified my brain. I did believe Jamie was handsome, but not on the level of the amatory Ella Monrey. She waved at me and hurried over to smother me in a hug. She smelled like lilac and the faintest scent of Pinesol.
“I’m so sorry about a few days ago. Jamie brought me home from our date, and it gave me the worst case of food poisoning. I brought you a gift since you’re the Missus of this house!” She handed me a candle that smelled like summer berries, which was very kind of her.
“You know my undoing,” I noted honestly. “I love candles. Thank you very much.” Not around Jamie, my brain pointed out.
“Ella’s here because I asked her to come to Malibu with us,” Jamie said in a dignified voice. He reached over to wrap an arm around her waist. “I hope you don’t mind, Em.”
“Oh, no, I don’t.” Although it meant Sam and I would be spending more one-on-one time, since this was shaping out to be a double date rather than a day trip. Plus, this was to get Jamie away from his romantic issues, not to fuel the fire. Yet I kept my tongue and played the caring, accepting friend quite nicely.
A half-hour later, Sam appeared in a relaxed state. His brown hair was slyly gelled back, and his blue eyes seemed casual and accepting when Jamie mentioned his extended invitation to Ella, who almost swooned in Sam’s presence. However, she collected herself and continued to lean exclusively on Jamie’s shoulder. I didn’t get up from the table, instead focusing on the last coat of nail polish.
“Hey, Emma,” Sam said, his voice enflaming my skin. When I turned around, he was suddenly behind me. For the first time, I noted that he seemed somewhat Spanish in origin, not the British-American I’d originally pegged him as. “What?” he asked.
“Today, you seem Latin.”
“What does that mean?” He cocked his head to the side, intrigued.
“Well, most of the time you just look Caucasian, I guess. Right now, you’ve got some kind of Hispanic flair. I can’t describe it.”
“My dad’s half-Cuban,” he said.
“So you’re American-British-Cuban?”
“I guess,” he said. “Does it really matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Are you guys coming?” Jamie called from the door, though he seemed more interested in Ella’s lips.
I stood up, and Sam moved out of the way, careful not to touch me. “My ancestors have been on American soil for generations. I took one of those ancestry tests. Excuse me for having a genuine interest in your genetic makeup.”
“Weird, but okay,” he said as I locked the door behind us. “My dad was born here. In LA from a Cuban mom and an American dad. And my mom is fully British, but I’ve spent so much time in America, I can really only classify as such. Is that better for your liking?”
“I don’t really care,” I said, though I did smile. “Look at Ella and Jamie. This may actually help his lovesick heart.”
Sam shook his head. “He’s trying to get over the other girl, Emma, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in the new girl that much.”
“Why are you being such a pessimist?”
“Since when did you become an optimist, Emma Richmond?”
There was debate on whose car we were to take, but eventually it was decided that we would take Sam’s convertible Mustang, which was immaculate. Jamie and Ella hopped in the back, which left me completely at the mercy of Sam. As he worked to put the top down, I put my hair in a preemptive ponytail, understanding that hair in one’s mouth does not make for an enjoyable car ride.
Sam looked over at me and laughed. “Really?”
“I will not be that girl whose hair flies straight into her ear canals. Deal with it.”
“You’re as feisty as your hair color,” Jamie added, leaning in to tell us this as Sam whipped out of the parking lot.
Deciding against speaking once we’d hit the interstate, I enjoyed the silence by Sam’s side, pretending to ignore the lovebirds chirping behind us. When we hit a burst of traffic and I could actually hear something besides the lovely wind, I leaned over and said to him, “Thanks for taking us out.”
“A compliment? From you? Hell must be freezing over.”
“I will admit, I can be tough. It’s in my hair.”
We were driving again, but when we turned off onto the scenic route through the Santa Monica Mountains, I really began speaking to him. In the midst of carved-out canyons in the midst of orangey rock, it was easy to converse about anything, really. The magnificence of the California coast awakened my spirit—just because, through the haze of polluted interstate systems, a true treasure glimmered in the void beyond human touch.
“So, do you have siblings?”
“Small talk, huh? That’s not very Emma of you,” he said as he managed around a curve. The laughter from behind us was enough to make me gag. I slid my fingertips across the slit of the window.
“I’m sorry I tried to care. We could just sit here in pure, sweet silence. I wouldn’t mind.”
“But I would,” Sam said, the confidence in his voice distracting. The curve allowed us a view of sharp, ragged rock—rock that had magnified the beauty of this place for thousands and thousands of years. “To answer your question—I am the younger one. Shouldn’t you know this by now? Since you’ve checked into my past and all?”
“Give me a break. I’m not that nosy. Or intrigued. Honestly.”
We both knew it was a lie, but I hadn’t researched into that part of his history. Plus, I’d rather here it from his own lips and know that the truth might surface from a personal account rather than a
subjective (probably) public mongrel, AKA paparazzi.
Jamie’s head suddenly popped up between Sam and me. “How far are we? Ella and I need to relieve ourselves.”
“Okay,” I said, checking my watch. “I’m used to your weirdness.”
“Probably twenty minutes,” Sam answered for me. “What do you guys want to do first? Shopping?”
“Sure,” I answered quickly, though I knew it would be a place Sam might wish to avoid. “If you can’t, I understand.”
“Stop,” he said quickly. “I’m not going to hide out like a caveman from a bear. Weird analogy, I know. I’m an actor; I signed up for this life. The least I can do is sign an autograph. It’s bad when there is a whole gaggle of them—a mob, I should say. Anyway, I can handle it.”
“If you say so.”
“Well, I did say so, so…”
“Oh, you people,” Jamie muttered. “Just put the pedal to the metal, because my lady and I have bodily needs that have to be met.”
I pushed his head to the back. If anybody else, like the President or even Marilyn Monroe, had been sitting in the driver’s seat, I would have apologized. But with Sam, I liked the frustration we’d built in our relationship. There was something rewarding about the playful bickering, even if I knew I was slowly developing feelings for him. Nothing close to love—because love is so overrated—but maybe a genuine interest in what it would be like to kiss him, or to have his hand in my own. From his guy’s perspective, he probably did not care at all, yet I doubted that. Any guy who spends time with a woman has to have some kind of sexual desire, right? Yet Jamie and I were proof the idea was bogus. We’d actually kissed once, during an idiotic, childish game of spin-the-bottle after my first and only college party. It was innocent fun; the bottle contained water. I played coy and kissed my best friend, but it tasted gross, like saliva and fruit. This might have been good for a person like Ella Monrey, but for me, I knew that Jamie would only and always be my very best friend on the planet. There was no room for anything more. If kissing him was like kissing one’s brother (not that I’ve kissed my brother), I could not imagine what the physical and intimate act of that would be like. We were not made for each other in the slightest.
Yet I wondered about the chemistry between myself and the casual Hollywood breakout star Sam Woodshaw. There was something palpable, like a summer storm’s scent in the wind, but I wasn’t sure if it would ever be brought to light. For lack of better terminology, I wondered if our relationship would ever bloom to anything if we chose to step out of the closet. There was little doubt that I felt something for Sam, even if it was small, but I wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to spend a night at my place. I wasn’t sure if he ever thought about a first date between us or anything further than that. Not like I had thought about that—this was just a suggestion.
So I toyed with the idea that I could dally with Sam—seriously, what did I have to lose? If something resulted from our playful banter, then it would be meant to be. Deep inside, I wanted him. On the surface, I acted like he was rubbish of the most illustrious kind.
When we pulled into the quaint Malibu Country Mart, the little shopping district in the twenty-seven mile long city of Malibu, Ella blew into a flurry of anticipation. She pulled Jamie by the hand, though he complained that he still needed to urinate. The two did not wait for Sam and me, so the two of us looked at each other in confusion.
“We could just leave them,” Sam said.
“Would it be bad if I agreed?”
We walked daintily past the shops and stopped for some yogurt. Sam definitely got some turns of the head, though less than I expected. People in Malibu seemed to be used to the whole Hollywood thing, but I still wasn’t. A few girls barely younger than me were aiming their iPhones in his direction. College girls, I decided. Me only two months before.
As the attendant handed my mint chocolate chip yogurt once he tallied the weight, Sam nudged me in the stomach. “We’re getting stared down. What does it feel like to an amateur in the public eye?”
“Terrible. How do you deal?”
“You get used to it. I don’t know, I’m really not that popular.”
“Shut up.”
We took our yogurt and headed down the sidewalk, the warm air tingling my skin. The cool yogurt on my lips was like a little piece of heaven. Eventually, we stopped talking, allowing the silence to illuminate the fact we were by ourselves and it felt natural, although since I was inexperienced in the field of men, I probably was just listening to the fading tempo of a nervous heart.
There was a faint glimpse of Ella pulling Jamie into another store, so we caught up with them, eventually.
“You know,” I said, as we were about to enter the shop. “Why don’t we get out of here? Just drive up the coast. Don’t have to worry about anything, just cruise.”
“Sounds nice,” Sam responded, “but let me remind you about that cat of yours. Who would care for him? Who would care for Jamie?”
“We’d take them with us.”
“And Ella?”
“She couldn’t handle it. Even if she works for PETA and is down with nature.”
He laughed, nudging me again. Any physical contact was like a little gold ticket, a welcome reward. “So, what we’re saying is that you, me, Jamie, and a cat would take the PCH up the coast, maybe live like hippies, barely bathe, do whatever we feel.”
“Maybe join a commune.”
“Nice. I didn’t think of that one. We’d probably get bored quickly, so then we’re off again. We get to Eureka, decide that in reality, all we ever wanted was Los Angeles.”
“No, we realize that all we ever wanted was to be with each other. Someone dies, the cat maybe—or you. Something that would break the news. ‘Cat causes heartbreak for three struggling twentysomethings.’ Or, ‘Sam Woodshaw’s death affects all humanity.’ We have a beautiful burial.”
“We get all these donations, buy a new cat.”
“And start all over again. This time, we drive across the desert. To Las Vegas or Phoenix.”
“Jamie falls in love, and he gets trapped in some ridiculous Vegas wedding.”
“And you and I try to warn him, but it’s too late.”
“Then he drives off with his woman, leaving us and the cat.”
“Just us three?”
“Just us three.”
I stopped, observing him, watching him analyze our surroundings. The salty air mingling with our bodies was a tease; we were too close to the ocean not to feel it. We had to see it without distraction. There was a sudden desire to touch his hair, but I kept my hands by my side. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. We could live like outlaws.”
“Roach-infested motels, rented yurts, bleeding hearts.”
“Then we con people like Bonnie and Clyde, and end up back in Los Angeles. Buy a big, bouncy house off Mulholland.”
“Why would we come back?”
“Because we’re embracing the point of return. We started in LA, and it fits to come back—especially if all we’ve done is basically nothing.”
“We didn’t do ‘nothing,’ though. See, we actually did everything, because we discovered where we really belong is here. And, surprisingly, together.”
“Well, let’s put it in reality. I run off with some artist, maybe a flamenco dancer on the side; you marry some wholesome teacher from Santa Ana. You take her to Calabasas, buy her a big, nice house. Your career takes off, you win an Oscar, and you get to tell people for the rest of your life that just once, you let loose and had the most interesting adventure. One that would make a great biopic.”
His eyes focused on mine, but I was too stubborn to look away. The breeze played with my hair. “Well, you think you’re in love with the flamenco dancer, but you realize that you were in love with me the whole time. So even though you ran off to Mexico with the guy, you cross the border and find that I’ve moved on. Except that while it looks that I have, I haven’t. But you know that I was never good enough for you. S
o you’re sad for a while, but you get over it. You meet the guy of your dreams, buy a cat with him, and eventually have a kid or two.”
“A kid? I don’t know if I could handle it.”
“‘It?’ Are you serious?”
“I’ve never been good around children. They hate me.”
“Children can’t hate anybody.”
“Obviously you’re more inexperienced than I am.”
Jamie and Ella appeared from the store, gripping hands. Ella was whispering sweet nothings into his ears, to which he giddily laughed. Sam seemed to tense near me, but he said quickly, “Looks like our imaginary storytelling time is over.”
“It was fun while it lasted.”
“Yeah, it was.”
AFTER OUR SHOPPING excursion, during which Ella bought four bags of clothes, we headed to lunch at a little café overlooking the lagoon. The vast void called the Pacific Ocean glittered in the distance. While Jamie raved about the newest science-fiction tragedy novel he’d read, I imagined what kind of damage a tsunami would do to Malibu. Or what it would do to Los Angeles—specifically Santa Monica and the towns on the coast.
Juicy lunch passed quickly, and before we knew it, we were driving around the mansions and houses, looking at homes for sale, laughing at the lofty price tags. While I was laughing because I knew I’d never be able to afford anything like a Malibu playhouse, Sam seemed to take everything in, like he was considering the fact that he might live there someday. I did not want to distract him, but I also believed that it was proof of American capitalism.
Somehow we wasted enough time so that sunset came, and we were walking down the sandy beach, our feet splashing the clean, wondrous water. Ella and Sam were talking about a shared interest, and I haphazardly laid my head on Jamie’s shoulder.
“I can’t believe we are in Malibu right now. With Sam Woodshaw and a girlfriend for you. Crazy. I don’t know which one is more eccentric.”
“Oh, please. I’ve had girlfriends, but you never bring anyone over. The sexual tension between you and Sam is hilarious. Yet I am the good friend; I say nothing because I don’t have to.”
“You just told me, weirdo.”
“Good point. Anyway, thanks for accepting Ella. She really likes you.”
“We’ve barely talked, James.”
“Look at the positive: Finally, I brought home a girl who isn’t jealous of you.”
“Nina wasn’t jealous.” Realizing my mistake, I bit my tongue. “Oh, gosh, Jamie. Ignore that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugged his shoulders unapologetically. “I miss her a lot, Emma, but if we were meant to be together, something would have happened.”
“But if someone happened…”
“I’m over her. I’d rather not talk about Nina. No offense.”
“Will you at least be my date for that wedding? You didn’t go to Chelsea’s, you can’t go to Annabel’s, and you’re going to be in Mexico for the rest.”
“Take Sam,” he politely countered.
“Never. We’re not a thing.”
“Want me to talk to him?” I was quiet for a beat too long, so Jamie took that as an affirmative. “I’ll work on it. Early Christmas present.”
A few minutes later, the two duos joined to form one conglomerate, and we decided to head back home. This time, I sat in the back with Ella, who showed me her purchases from the day. We talked about fashion (on my limited knowledge) and pets, plus our common goal of saving the planet. I mean, who doesn’t want to save the planet? I recycled; that was about it.
Eventually, Sam pulled back into the apartment complex. While Jamie and Ella shared a long, slobbery good-bye kiss, I waited with the man who was beginning to grow on me. I jumped into the front seat and said, “Why can’t they have a happy ending?”
“Who, us?”
“Our theoretical us.”
“Happy endings don’t exist, Emma. Unfortunately, they just don’t.” He turned his head just the slightest, alerting me that he fully believed what he’d said. I wondered what had happened in his life, before reminding myself of my own issues.
“They can. I mean, look at people who’ve been married for fifty years.”
“Well, to put it bluntly, we all die.”
“Oh, we are not about to have this conversation,” I countered. “We barely know each other. We shouldn’t be talking about death. Plus, I don’t think it necessarily just ends that way. Actually, I know that I don’t think that.”
“Well, since you sound like a Christian, what if one is saved, and the other isn’t?”
“You know the terminology.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“A lot of people. Anyway, well, I can’t explain how terrible that is.”
“It would be you and me, then.”
“You are in a sour mood.”
“I just got a text from my agent. I’m supposed to fly out to Honduras tomorrow for re-shoots on a movie we did a year ago. Usually I would be happy to get out of town, but I’m anxious to just stay at home for once, you know? Sorry I’m crabby.” His eyes sparkled in the glow of darkness. It hurt to think only days before, he’d dragged a drunk Jamie home and I aimed a can of Raid at his face.
“That absolutely blows.”
He nodded a few times. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks. I’m going to tell Jamie before I go, but I thought you should know. Just in case something prevents our plan from happening. You know, just sailing along, the four of us—including that cat.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll see you when you come back, I guess. If not…”
“Oh, please don’t do that. We know each other now, Emma. We’re friends now. If you like it or not, we’re friends, and I will come see you and Jamie as soon as I get back. You guys are some of the only normal people I know nowadays.”
“We’re the furthest thing from normal.”
“Exactly. You’re not the typical people I’m around.” He leaned closer to me, the smell of a mint on his breath intoxicating, probably just because his presence was intoxicating. This was what it felt like to be physically attracted to a man. Up close, I noted the freckle of green in his eyes, the hint of glow in his sun-kissed skin, the curve of his lips. For a moment, I thought we would kiss, but instead, he sat back in his seat. I knew immediately: Jamie.
The boy stood above us like a looming grandfather clock ticking with impatience. “What are you guys doing in here? I’ve only been waiting a full thirty seconds for you two to finish that conversation.” If he wanted us to be together, I didn’t understand the logic of interfering at the moment we were maybe about to share some intimacy. However, I didn’t need to understand anything Jamie did, because he did it on his own. It was always a mystery in fact.
I hopped out of the car and waved good-bye at Sam. I stood beside my best friend, who took the bad news of Sam’s leaving pretty well. They agreed to see each other as soon as Sam got back in town, though I wondered if that would really happen. Soon we were trekking up the stairs together, sans our romantic interests.
“You know what?” The way he posed the question made it appear to be a statement, so I waited a moment. “I actually miss the idea of just you and me. You and I. What’s going to happen when you get married—or when I get married? Or you move in with some chap? What if one of us ends up alone?”
“Jamie, don’t worry about that. In more ways than one, you are the real love of my life. A lot of times, I wish we could, you know, have that part of most relationships.”
“But everything would change. We wouldn’t be us. I don’t want to change us.”
“Someday, we’re going to change. That’s inevitable. I don’t want it to happen, but I don’t want to be the most important girl in your life, Jamie. I want you to find a woman who is bright, beautiful, and bouncy—just like you. You deserve that. You deserve the chance to fall in love without an overbearing best friend. You deserve a group of guys with whom to watch football—or an opera. I love you so much, but love
isn’t always selfish, you know.”
He opened the door to our apartment, his shoulders sagging. “Emma, I want to tell you this. I’ve got this feeling, in the pit of my stomach. It’s eating me up, and it makes me feel queasy, like after I eat greasy popcorn…”
“Jamie,” I said, tapping my foot.
“Okay. I like Ella, but I know deep down that she is fleeting for me.”
“Seriously?” I asked, though I wasn’t necessarily surprised. They had a sweet relationship, one that did help his heartbreak from Nina, but in reality, he and Nina had something special. Special enough to complicate things when she’d announced her wedding date months after breaking up with the boy who made her go crazy every five seconds in melodramatic spasms of, “I never believed in God until he sent me Jamie!” or the classic, “I’m so in love I feel like I could float into outer space!”
Yet Jamie’s eyes filled with something other than truth. They filled with a hint of righteous anger. “There is something weird about Sam. I like him and all, but my man instincts just warn me that something’s not quite right when it comes to his approach toward you.”
“What?” I asked, my voice cracking. “We’re not even a thing at all. We barely know each other. You acted fine around him until he dropped us off.”
He took my hand in his, though I knew my body was limp. “I love you, remember? I saw his texts when you and Ella were in the back. It was from some girl named Amber or something, and it wasn’t good.”
“Well, you might as well tell me.”
“You know,” he said, his eyes glazing over. “Maybe I didn’t see it clearly. Maybe I’m wrong.”
“Jamie!”
“I’m going to bed, Emma. I’m sorry I brought this up.”
He left me standing on the balcony, overlooking the awful park across the street where moms took their little tots to play from our complex. If one strained his or her eyes far enough, a pool could be seen glittering in the darkness. I had never seen my best friend freeze up like this, and I didn’t know how to take it. Eventually I gave in, went inside, and fell into a deep sleep, as I needed all the energy I could muster for a long week of work before jetting off to Kauai for another wedding.