The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) (12 page)

* * *

Boyd’s parents lived on the Torrance side of Mischief Bay. It was a pretty two-story house on a small lot. Gabby would guess there had once been a cute little bungalow that had been torn down to make room for the larger home. It was happening all over.

The yard was manicured, the front door freshly painted and the living room pristine. Gabby thought of the endless stream of books, stuffed animals, dog and cat toys, books and dolls she was constantly picking up in her own family room. Given three days’ notice, she couldn’t get close to her house being as well-ordered as this one.

The living room had been decorated in a palette of white, ice blue and pale gray. Two large sofas faced each other. She and Andrew sat in one while Boyd’s parents sat in the other. The teenagers were perched on two chairs. They weren’t physically together, but they still seemed oddly united.

Boyd was a tall, skinny sixteen-year-old with too-long dark hair and hunched posture. Looking at him, Gabby would guess he was more into computer games than sports. Surprising. She would have guessed Makayla was more the jock type. But what did she know? This time last week she would have laughed off the notion of her fifteen-year-old stepdaughter being pregnant.

His parents—Thomas, not Tom, and Lisa—had identical looks of disapproval and judgment, with a bit of pinchy face thrown in. Gabby had the brief thought that she should have downed a shot of something before the drive over. Maybe being tipsy would take the edge off. An inappropriate giggle wouldn’t make things any worse.

At least Candace wasn’t here to add her two cents to the uncomfortable mix. Andrew had put a call in to her, not saying what was wrong, but asking to speak to her. She’d texted back saying she was traveling in Europe and couldn’t possibly be bothered until she was home.

Gabby looked around at the tall vases, the view of the pool, the draperies that were probably silk. The differences in their lifestyles weren’t about money. They were about having five-year-olds and pets. Gabby resisted the urge to glance down at her shirt to make sure there weren’t any stains.

She became aware of the silence filling the room. Since the slightly awkward introductions, there hadn’t been any conversation. She reached for Andrew’s hand. He gave hers a slight squeeze, then took a breath.

“It seems we have a problem,” he began.

“We do.” Lisa, a tall, slender brunette with small eyes, turned her attention to Gabby. “A problem your daughter created.”

Gabby stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“If you’d known what was going on in your own house, none of this would have happened. Don’t you have rules?”

Of course they had rules, Gabby thought, not sure what to say. Rules that had been broken.

“We didn’t do it there,” Makayla said quickly. “It was here. Both times.”

“Back at you,” Gabby told Lisa, even as she wanted to scream at the heavens. Twice? They’d done it twice and Makayla had ended up pregnant? She knew the biology, so of course it was possible, but hardly fair.

The other woman flushed. “I’m not sure the where is what matters.”

Right. Because it had mattered three seconds ago.

“I agree.” Andrew leaned forward. “We have to come up with a plan that makes the most sense.”

“They’re children.” Thomas glared at his son. “Irresponsible children. I don’t understand. We talked about this, Boyd. You were supposed to wear a condom.”

“How about not sleeping with a fifteen-year-old?” Gabby snapped, not sure where the words came from.

Andrew squeezed her hand. “Gabby,” he murmured.

She nodded, knowing she wasn’t helping.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “It’s not Boyd. Don’t expect me to believe this was Makayla’s first time. I’m sure she seduced him.”

“What?” The word exploded from Gabby’s lips.

“It was,” Boyd said quickly. “I swear. There was blood and she cried. Mom, you’re not helping.”

Gabby felt bile rising in her throat. She was going to be sick—right there on the pale gray rug. Talk about a bitch. The situation was difficult enough, but Lisa was making it worse. She risked a glance at Makayla, who was staring at her lap, her fingers twisting together. Gabby wanted to run over and hold her until all this went away. But that wasn’t an option.

Andrew cleared his throat. Gabby recognized the sound. It was him trying to keep control.

“If we’re done trying to assign blame,” he said, his voice low, “perhaps we could work on a solution.”

“We have one.” Boyd reached for Makayla’s hand. “We’re in love.”

“Dear God, you’re sixteen.” Thomas glared at his son. “You’re too young to know what love is. Or good judgment, apparently.”

“We want to be together,” Boyd said stubbornly.

“And have our baby,” Makayla added.

Not a surprise, Gabby thought, but a kick in the gut all the same. How on earth were they going to keep a baby? Raise it? There were other options. While she supported a woman’s right to choose, she wasn’t sure how far along Makayla was in her pregnancy. If the teen was talking about being in love and raising her child, then abortion was off the table. Which left adoption. Weren’t infants supposed to be sought-after?

“You’re not getting married,” Lisa said flatly. “You’re too young.”

“We can wait.” Boyd raised his chin. “Makayla and I are going to stay together.”

Gabby had to give the kid kudos for standing up to his parents. She wondered if that happened very often and had to guess that it didn’t. Would he be able to stay strong or would they work on him until he caved?

Her gaze shifted to Makayla. The teen stared at Boyd with hope and love. They were both so young. They had no idea what they were facing.

“We need some time,” Andrew said. “We know what these two want. Gabby and I need to talk about where we are in all this. I assume, Thomas, that you and Lisa want to do the same. Let’s agree to talk in a couple of weeks.”

For the first time since they’d walked into the house, Lisa smiled. “That’s an excellent idea, Andrew. We just found out and we all need time to process the information. Why don’t you and I stay in touch?”

Because she and Thomas were lessor mortals in the
My kid is pregnant
club?

Gabby shook off her annoyance. She was going to have to deal with Lisa for the next few months. Possibly longer if, God forbid, there was any reality to the plan of Makayla and Boyd staying together and raising their baby.

Chapter Eleven

Pescadores was a popular Mischief Bay seafood restaurant. Nicole knew there was some complicated history between this place and The Original Seafood Company down the street. People often assumed that any part of metropolitan Los Angeles was faceless and nameless due to size and population, but they would be wrong. There were small town-like enclaves everywhere and Mischief Bay was one of them. Feuds flared up, people took sides, words were spoken, shopping decisions made. Then time passed and no one could remember why they never went to a particular deli, but the rules stayed in place.

All of which was terribly interesting and not the least bit relevant, Nicole thought as she got out of her car but kept hold of the door handle. It was nerves. Fluttering, twisting, nausea-inducing nerves. She’d never been one to self-medicate beyond the occasional glass of wine, but this seemed like a really good time to start. Did she know anyone who might have a prescription for Valium or Xanax? She didn’t want a whole pill. Just half. Something to take the edge off.

It was Saturday night. A traditional date night. She knew that. She used to date, back in the day. But that had been about eight years and a whole marriage ago. Now she was a divorced, single mom who didn’t know what on earth she’d been thinking when she’d said yes to Jairus’s invitation.

She felt stupid. And out of place. Not to mention confused. Everything was wrong. Her dress, her hair, her being here in the first place. Two days ago, she’d realized she had nothing to wear. She’d borrowed a dress from her friend Shannon, a pretty floral print number with a square neckline, scooped back, fitted to the waist before flaring out.

Nicole hadn’t recognized the name on the label, but she was pretty sure it was a designer dress that had cost more than a couple of months’ mortgage. But Shannon had been generous and hadn’t mentioned how much it had cost. Nor had she pushed to know the event it was needed for beyond Nicole’s slightly untrue, “I’ve been invited to a client thing.” Which sounded like a house party or benefit. Not a date.

This was
all
his fault, she told herself. If that stupid man hadn’t asked her out, she would be home now with Tyler. Watching a movie, eating popcorn. She would be comfortable. Content. She would not be afraid she was going to throw up.

“Hi.”

She jumped—a serious mistake in three-inch heels—and turned to find Jairus walking toward her. Her first thought was that he looked good in a dark blue shirt and black pants. His hair was still too long, but he’d shaved. He was smiling. A sexy, happy-to-see-you kind of smile that made her tummy even more unstable.

“Hi,” she managed to answer, then told herself she had to let go of the door handle. At some point he would be expecting her to walk into the restaurant with him and wouldn’t that be awkward with her dragging a car behind?

Jairus tilted his head. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She should have stopped there. Instead, sadly, she kept talking. “I’m nervous. About this. The date. That it’s not going to go well. Or that you’re annoyed about meeting here instead of picking me up at the house. It’s just, I don’t really know you, so why would I trust you? Plus Tyler. He loves B the D and you’re, well, you know who you are. I don’t want him thinking things. I don’t know what they would be, but something.”

She ordered herself to stop talking. If she didn’t stop voluntarily, she was going to be forced to physically hold her lips together. Which meant she really, really had to let go of the door handle.

She did both—releasing the metal and shutting her mouth. She even managed a tight smile. She hoped it looked less scary than it felt.

“B the D?” he asked.

“It’s short for—”

“Oh, I know what it’s short for.” The sexy smile returned. “It’s kind of cute. B the D. Like his street name.”

“I’m not sure a pudgy red dragon gets to have a street name.”

The smile faded. “Pudgy?”

“Kind of.”

“He’s big-boned. And a dragon. They’re not skinny on purpose. Brad’s a good-looking dragon.”

His defense of a fictitious creature eased some of her nerves. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to disrespect Brad.”

“He’s not fat.”

“I got that. Just big-boned.”

“And a dragon.”

“Absolutely. A very fit, handsome dragon.”

Jairus studied her. “You’re mocking me.”

“A little, but that’s okay.”

“From your perspective. Ready to go in?”

She was. Breathing was easier and her stomach had settled. They started for the restaurant.

“You look good,” he said as he held open the door. “Very good.”

“Thank you. Um, you, too.”

Pescadores was decorated with a distinct nautical theme, but they hadn’t gone over the top. There were a few anchors and seascapes on the wall and there was plenty of wood and rope between booths, but other than that, it was a simple and elegant restaurant. The tablecloths were white, the plates heavy and the servers quiet and knowledgeable.

Nicole and Jairus were shown to a table by the window with a view of the marina. As soon as she sat down, the nerves returned and with them, the need to bolt. Even thinking about Brad being “big-boned” didn’t seem to help.

“You all right?” Jairus asked.

“Mostly. I don’t, um, date that much. Since the divorce.” She set her small handbag next to her and leaned forward. “I can’t figure out if I’m being careful or shutting myself off. I know how my friends would vote on that one.”

“Shutting yourself off?”

“Totally.”

“I knew there had to be a reason you didn’t jump at the chance to go out with me. Now I know what it is.”

She laughed. “You’re not all that.”

“I am. Really. Ask anyone.”

Humor twinkled in his eyes. Nicole relaxed a little. Their server came and told them about the specials, then took their drink orders. Nicole knew she would be driving at the end of the evening, so she got a glass of chardonnay. Something she could sip over several hours.

“You’re divorced?” Jairus asked when the server had left.

“Yes. Eric...” What? Left? That sounded too dramatic, even though it was the truth. “He wanted to be a screenwriter. So he quit his job to write a screenplay. The problem is we didn’t discuss it first. He quit and told me two days later. It was terrifying.”

Jairus leaned toward her. “Of course it was. What the hell. You’re partners. You talk about stuff when you’re married.”

“According to Eric, he didn’t say anything because he knew I wouldn’t support his dream.”

“Was he right?”

“I have no way of knowing. Seriously, I can argue both sides of it. So I supported him while he wrote and surfed.”

Jairus groaned. “No. Do not tell me he’s giving writers a bad name.”

“He is. Kind of. But it turned out he was talented. He sold his screenplay for a lot of money. A couple of months after that, he moved out.” She shrugged. “I was completely surprised and yet not at all, if that makes sense.”

“It does.”

“We’d grown apart. He wanted different things. I’m okay with that. People change. It’s just, he has a son and he never sees him. Eric pays his child support on time but he won’t show up. He has Tyler one Sunday every other week and he blows him off more than half the time. It’s horrible.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. The worst of it, Tyler doesn’t talk about him anymore. It’s like he doesn’t miss him. I guess you can’t miss what you don’t remember. I keep hoping that one day Eric is going to wake up and realize what he’s lost, but what if he doesn’t?”

She paused for breath, only to realize how much she’d been talking. And about what?

“Oh, no.” She pressed the tips of her fingers to her nose, then dropped her hands onto her lap. “So, if you weren’t convinced before that I don’t date much, you have clarity now.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s a little scary. You should be checking out the closest exit.”

“It’s behind me and I’m fine.”

Their server appeared with their drinks. Jairus asked that they have some time before ordering.

When they were alone again, he raised his glass. “To your dating life.”

“It might be dangerous to toast that,” she told him.

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

He was nice, she thought. That was unexpected. “What about you?” she asked. “Tell me something incriminating or at the very least, personal. So we’re even.”

He’d ordered a vodka tonic. Now he moved the glass against the tablecloth. “I’m divorced, as well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It happens.” He glanced at her, then away. “I had an older sister, Alice. She had Down syndrome. She loved picture books and we would read them together. One day, when I was about eight, it was raining and my mom couldn’t take us to the library to get more books. I forget why. So I started drawing. Those scratches eventually became Brad.”

He smiled. “Alice loved Brad. She thought up some of the story lines. We had fun. I would write and draw and she would color him. She’s the one who said he had to be red.”

Nicole told herself it was rude to stare, even on a date, but she couldn’t look away. Nothing he was telling her was what she’d thought.
He
wasn’t what she’d thought. Wasn’t what she’d read in that online article.

“I knew that when my parents were gone, I would be responsible for Alice. I wanted that. So when I was older and started dating, that was always in the back of my mind.”

“Oh, no,” she breathed.

“Yeah. You guessed right. By college, I was getting serious about Brad. I looked for a publisher and I was lucky. He sold and he sold well. Then I met Mindy, who was sweet and sexy and claimed to love Alice.”

“But she didn’t.”

“No. My parents were killed while traveling and Alice moved in with us. Within a couple of months Mindy was talking about how Alice would be happier with her kind.” His mouth twisted. “Those were her exact words.
Her kind
. Like she wasn’t human. That was the day our marriage ended, at least for me. We fought more but in the end it came down to a choice. Mindy or my sister.”

Nicole was torn between being impressed and so incredibly sad. Eric couldn’t even suck it up enough to see his son for an afternoon. Jairus had stepped up without question.

“Mindy didn’t get it,” she said quietly.

“Not even close. A few months later, Alice got pneumonia and died.”

Nicole stiffened. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”

“It was. She’d always had trouble with her lungs, but I’d hoped she would live a long, happy life. I was with her until the end.”

“Of course you were.”

“Mindy came back.”

“What?” Her voice came out louder than she’d planned. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, but are you kidding? Like you’d take her back after what she did? You could never trust her. Alice was your sister. It wasn’t the promise, it was that you loved her.” She clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no. You didn’t take her back, did you? Because if you did...”

He raised his eyebrows. “You just stuck your foot in it?”

“Technically, yes, but you’re an idiot, so I would say we’re even.”

He laughed then. A big, happy laugh that had her laughing with him.

“I didn’t take her back.”

“I’m glad.”

“She was pissed.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. She was in it for the money.”

The brows went up again.

She swore silently. Really? Was she that bad at the whole dating thing? “Um, what I meant was you’re so amazing, I’m sure she was crushed.”

“Better. And you’re right. She was in it for the money.”

“And you.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He took a sip of his drink. “So, you read some stuff about me online, didn’t you? Bad stuff.”

She did her best not to flush. “What? No. Never. Maybe. Yes.”

He grinned. “I figured. Mindy got a friend who works for an online gossip site to write it. The article got picked up and circulated. For what it’s worth, I don’t spend my days counting my money or whatever it was they said.”

“Good to know.” They looked at each other. She reached her hand across the table. “I’m sorry about Alice.”

“Me, too.” He rested his fingers on hers. “Brad and I miss her.”

Nicole carefully withdrew her hand. “You and Brad? You speak to Brad?”

“Sure. We’re partners.”

“That’s, um, nice.”

The grin returned. “Gotcha.”

She groaned. “I hoped you were pretending, but he’s a compelling guy, so it’s hard to be sure.”

They ordered, then had dinner. Conversation stayed on a slightly more informational-slash-superficial level. Jairus was from Mischief Bay and had gone to the California Institute of the Arts—a school found by Walt Disney. Nicole told him about her dance scholarship at Arizona State and her disastrous attempt to make it in New York. When she happened to glance at her watch, she was shocked to find over three hours had passed.

“I told Cecelia I wouldn’t be late,” she explained, as they got up to leave.

“I had a good time,” Jairus told her as they walked outside. “I’d like to see you again.”

They reached her car and she faced him. The sun had set. The parking lot was well lit, but the quality of light was different than daylight. Still, he looked good. Even better, he’d been easy to talk to. He was a decent guy. These days that was so much more important than handsome.

“I enjoyed this, as well. But I have to tell you something.”

“I’m listening.”

She sighed. “It’s Brad.”

“The dragon?”

“Yeah. He’s, ah...” She pressed her lips together. “Sometimes he drives me crazy. All the merchandise, the stories. I know he’s a good role model, but he is everywhere in my life. Did you know there are Brad chapter books?”

One corner of Jairus’s mouth twitched. “Yes. I wrote them.”

“Oh, right. Well, that means Brad and I are going to be together for a few more years. It’s not that I hate him, but if you’re expecting me to be wild about him, I’m not. And if your whole house is a shrine to Brad, then there’s a problem, because I am not a groupie.”

“You’re saying you’re not in this for my cartoon alter ego?”

“Exactly.”

“Good.”