Life's a Beach (20 page)

“You were in my apartment without me?”

“Your father was there.”

“You went over to apologize to my cat?”

Noah didn’t say anything, but I waited him out. “No, I went over to apologize to you, but you’d already taken off for Hollywood.”

“I’m not in Hollywood. I’m on the Cape.”

“You’re kidding. I was going to fly out to find you. There’s a glassblowers’ colony in Laguna Beach I’ve always wanted to see. I figured we could check it out together.”

I didn’t say anything.

“God, I’m an idiot.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your cat’s talent or Laguna Beach. Okay, that’s not true. Listen, what I really would have done was come out to see you. And Laguna Beach. In that order.”

I couldn’t stop myself. “Wow,” I said, “I’ve never gotten a higher rating than Laguna Beach before. How do you feel about me in relation to Santa Monica?”

Now Noah wasn’t saying anything.

I closed my eyes. “Sorry. I’m trying to let this go, but I still don’t get that you’d give my cat art lessons when we’re not speaking. And have this whole plan to come out to see me without even checking in with me.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?”

I put my feet up on the split log railing and leaned my head back against the rough bark of the hotel.

“Okay,” Noah said. “Here’s the thing. The day after we had that stupid fight, it just hit me. Pretty much all I have to show for my entire life are some nice pieces of glass.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m trying to apologize. Listen, please? I’m just trying to tell you that Seattle was bad. Really bad. I wasn’t great before that maybe, but after, I think I just gave up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, okay, I worked with a big glassblower out there for a few years, and then I went out on my own. And suddenly this guy is suing me for copyright infringement. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, glassblowing is all about color and shape and movement. And nature. You spend days and days noticing that the yellow crocuses open first, and then the purple and then the white.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, yeah, and then you spend weeks trying to capture the exact feel of it and pull it into a vase you’re working on, and suddenly this guy is trying to say he owns the whole concept of crocuses.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, and what happens to art if da Vinci is the only one allowed to paint crooked smiles, you know? And only James Taylor can sing about fire or rain. Anyway, in court he tried to say I wasn’t a real artist, that I wasn’t capable of conceptualizing higher level art. That I was basically just a gaffer, and I was stealing his brilliant ideas.”

Clearly I was hearing things. “Excuse me?” I said. “But isn’t a gaffer an electrician?”

“Maybe. But it’s also a glassblower who does the labor under another glassblower who has the vision, who’s the real artist. Such a crock. Everything I did from the time I walked out that door was me—my vision, my style.” Noah sighed. “I think what happens is that some of these guys start to believe their own press clippings.”

“He lost, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, eventually the case got thrown out. But I guess I was pretty obsessed by the whole thing, and well, I never saw the signs. My wife had already moved on to the next guy. I didn’t even see it coming.”

I rubbed the back of my hand across my mouth. “Wow,” I said.

“Yeah, it was bad. Anyway, enough about me. I’m sorry about that stupid fight we had. And I’m sorry I haven’t treated you better. Are you coming home for the weekend? Or can I come down and take you and Riley out to dinner or something?”

I closed my eyes. “I don’t know yet. Can I get back to you when I figure out what’s going on?”

“Sure. How’s everything going down there with the movie? And how’s your jewelry coming along?”

“Okay, I guess.” A car pulled into the parking lot, and the headlights pointed right at me. I pulled my legs off the balcony and leaned forward in my chair. Some of my hair stuck to the bark wall and I had to reach back and pull it away. “I don’t know. I always wanted to be one of those people everybody thought was talented. But from the time I was little, art seemed like a club I couldn’t get into. Even with my first pasta necklace, I could tell nobody was that excited about it, and I could never weave those stupid pot holders right. I mean, how do you really know what color loop to use next?”

I thought Noah would laugh. I was probably even trying to make him laugh. “It takes courage to create,” he said. “People are afraid of embarrassing themselves by not being good enough.”

“Or maybe even by showing who they really are.”

“That’s a good point,” Noah said. “I’m probably more afraid of embarrassing myself in life than in art, though. Art gives you a little distance. It’s you, but you’re still a safe step removed.”

“Hmm,” I said.

“Don’t worry about being brilliant, Ginger. If you work at anything seven days and a million hours a week, of course you’re going to get good at it.”

“That much, huh?” I said. “No, I’m only kidding. I really want to try. And you’re a really good conversationalist. Who knew?”

Noah laughed. “Thanks. My jaw actually hurts. So, you’ll call me later?”

“Tonight?”

“No, I meant later this week, when you know what’s going on down there.”

“Okay,” I said. “I will.”

I TOSSED AND TURNED
all night, and woke up with a bad case of kisser’s remorse. As if I didn’t have enough issues already, apparently I could add impulse control to the list. I stared at the popcorn ceiling over my bed, trying to figure out how I could get the drill back to the gaffer without actually running into the gaffer. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember the kiss. Maybe he was on again with his girlfriend. It seemed timing, or lack thereof, really was everything.

Eventually my alarm went off. I rolled over and hit the button. Riley jumped right up and headed for the bathroom. “Hey,” I yelled. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Whatever,” he said.

My eight-year-old nephew had turned into a teenager overnight. Or maybe he hadn’t slept well either. I picked up the phone and called in chocolate chip pancakes for Riley and a veggie and egg white omelet for me. The décor might not be much, but at least breakfast was pretty good here, when it arrived hot.

I jumped in the shower when Riley got out, and then he read his joke book and I flipped through one of my jewelry books while we ate breakfast.

“So, you’re in a good mood,” I said finally.

“Shh,” he said. “I’m trying to read.”

“Whatever,” I said.

We left our breakfast trays on the floor just outside the hotel room and headed for the elevator. I was carrying the gaffer’s drill and goggles. Riley was still reading his joke book as we walked.

Riley looked up when we got out to the parking lot. “Is that my mother?” he asked.

Sure enough, a woman looking suspiciously like my sister was sitting behind the steering wheel of a huge SUV that looked suspiciously like her car. She was wearing big dark sunglasses and seemed to be staring straight ahead. I couldn’t believe Geri thought she had to check up on me. And how nice of her to call first.

Perhaps belatedly, I looked at Riley to see if he was presentable. He looked pretty good, except for the fact that the stripes on his socks didn’t quite match. I leaned over and wiped a smidgen of chocolate chip off his cheek.

“Mom!” Riley yelled. He started to run.

Geri’s body jerked and she crashed her head into the window beside her.

“Were you sleeping?” I asked as soon as she opened the door and climbed down from the heights of her ridiculously supersized vehicle.

She ignored me and gave Riley a big hug. “Oh, honey, I missed you.”

Riley held on tight. “I missed you, too, Mom.” It actually sounded like my laid-back little nephew was sobbing. “The twins mushed brownie all over the rental car and Aunt Ginger was really mean to them. It was only a
joke
.”

Even with sunglasses, I could tell Geri was glaring at me. “What did Auntie Ginger do, honey?”

Riley let out a ragged little squeak. “She was really scary. She yelled at them and made us scrub it off, but we couldn’t get it all off, and we got all wet. Can you stay here until the movie’s over, Mom?”

I stared at the nasty little changeling before me and wondered what he had done with the real Riley. “I was only trying to help,” I said. “I thought you wanted me on your side.”

Geri held out her keys and clicked the lock on her SUV. “Okay, show me the rental car.” She turned to watch a couple roll their suitcases past the log cabin ice machine. “And what kind of hotel is this anyway?”

The car still looked pretty bad. The largest deposit of brownie had thinned and spread out until it was roughly the shape of a boot, or maybe Italy, and then dried again. Smaller flecks of brownie dotted most of the windshield and the hood of the car. There was even a little bit on the hubcaps.

“What were you thinking?” Geri asked.

“I didn’t
do
it,” I said.

We climbed into the rental car. I drove. We followed the yellow signs to the beach parking lot in silence. I parked.

“I’ll be right back,” Geri said.

I picked up the drill and goggles. “Would you mind returning these to the electrical trailer while you’re there?” I asked.

“Yes, I would,” Geri said before she slammed the door and disappeared with Riley.

22

I POUTED ALL BY MYSELF IN THE RENTAL CAR. I LOOKED
at the drill and the goggles. I looked at the car door. I imagined opening it, getting out, finding the gaffer. I couldn’t do it. I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes.

Five minutes after she left, Geri was back.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” I asked. “You never wear sunglasses.”

“Okay,” she said. “It’s all set. I apologized for you, and Allison Flagg is watching Riley while we go to the car wash. And Manny wants us to bring the bat and ball when we come back.”

“We can’t leave,” I said. “The guardian has to be on the premises at all times.”

“Allison has it under control.”

“What do you mean, you apologized for me? I didn’t
do
anything.” I stared out through the windshield at the brownie poop. It was drying out and cracking into a road map of lines. I wanted to follow one of them right out of here. “Why does Riley hate me?” I asked. “I had no idea he was even upset.”

Geri let out a puff of air. “Drive, will you? Kids always do that. They act like everything’s okay, and then they fall apart as soon as they see their mothers.”

“Really?” I had a sudden flashback to all the times I’d barely made it home from school, only to burst into tears at the sight of my mother. I started up the rental car.

“Yeah. And watch what you say about the twins in front of Riley. He has a big crush on Mackenzie. At least he thinks it’s Mackenzie.”

“Well, we’d better nip that one in the bud right away. He’s way too young for girls.”

Geri twisted around to face me.
“We?”

I put on the blinker and took a left toward the main drag. “Well, he is.”

“I’ve got a news flash for you: You’re not his mother. And, while we’re at it, I’ve got another one: The whole world isn’t only about you.” Geri pushed her sunglasses farther up her nose. “Just drive, okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “Just tell me if you see a car wash,
okay
?”

We found a Wash Me on our side of the road, tucked between a Seaside Sushi and a Cape Clam Shack. There was a surprisingly long line, especially given that everybody should have been vacationing, not washing their cars, but we pulled in anyway. Geri handed me some money, and I passed it over to a bored-looking college kid standing in a little booth. We reversed direction and I gave the change and receipt to Geri.

Of course, we managed to get ourselves into the slowest moving of the three car wash lines. I reached under the seat for the stack of flyers I’d left there last night.

“Want half?” I asked Geri.

Geri crossed her arms over her chest and puffed out some air. “Why would I want half?”

“Hey, it’s not like I care. I was just being polite.” I started flipping through them, then looked up again. Geri was just sitting there in those stupid sunglasses with her arms crossed. No cell phone, no BlackBerry. It was too much to ignore. “What is your problem today?” I asked. “And why did you take the day off anyway? I thought you and Seth were bringing the girls down this weekend.”

Geri uncrossed her arms and held out her hand. “Okay, give me half.”

I gave Geri a handful of brightly colored flyers and started dividing the rest into trash and save piles. Every time I had to inch the car forward, the piles got all messed up, so I’d probably have to do it all over again later.

“Oh, this is so true,” Geri said.

“What?”

She cleared her throat. “ ‘Couples without children are invariably closer than those who produce offspring, as they are able to shower all their love and attention, not to mention their money, on each other. Once they breed, it is only a matter of time before couplehood takes second stage to parenthood.’ ”