The Other Fish in the Sea (10 page)

“Yep. Are Kate and Melissa still sleeping?”

“Katy is
,
but I think I heard Melissa movin’ around.”

“Yes, Melissa is moving around…how could I not be with all the noise?” She said, stumbling through the open door of the tent.

The noise she’s referring to would be all the engines, not my dad’s music. He has to play it loud for anyone to hear it over the constant motor revving
,
which began almost immediately after the first song started.

Now I’m going to assume that although it’s a lot of fun for me, you don’t want to hear about my day riding around the dunes, so I’ll just say that we all got pretty dirty and had a great time doing it. Being that it’s Thanksgiving; the moms, aside from mine as she’s being smart in not wearing herself out by doing too much, only went out for about an hour or so in the morning and were back by 11:00 to start getting food ready and relieving the dads from baby-sitting the younger kids who only ride around camp. Kate and Melissa shared Tristan’s mom’s quad, which was fine because for some odd reason, Kate didn’t do a whole lot of riding and when she did, she stayed out of the dunes. And Melissa, who is new to riding as well, hung back with Pete so they could both stay safe but still ride and have fun.
 

Anyway, Thanksgiving dinner isn’t really served out here the way it is if you were at home. I suppose that’s kind of obvious, but what I mean is that we don’t all sit down together, say a prayer of thanks to God while holding hands and then the head of the house carves the turkey. No. What we do is more like Darwinism. You know, survival of the fittest. In fact, it’s not uncommon for a bloody battle to break out over the last of the dark meat or the last piece of my Aunt Dee’s pecan pie so you could probably liken the way we spend this holiday to “Lord of the Flies” as well.

First of all, every RV puts out one part of the meal like a Vegas buffet. I think we’re the dessert station this year. And someone usually does say some kind of blessing over the food, but riding all day makes you pretty damned hungry so if you’re not present when everything is put out, then too bad so sad. With that in mind, at about three in the afternoon most everyone was already back at camp and hovering around the RVs like locusts. By the time dinner was “served
,
” pretty much everyone was ravenous. I was giggling to myself because the way everyone was scarfing their food down totally reminded me of how Phineas and Ferb eat. Or, like it was feeding time at the zoo. Needless to say, we ate a ton, took a short nap and then went for a night ride, making sure we were back before Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” was over.

Now I have no idea where Parker and his friend are and I’m sure Jillian does, but since she accepted the flat rate bribes, she’s not saying, however
,
it was around 11:30 when the remaining teens repaired to our tent for some after-dinner conversation and a little drinking. Well, not everyone was drinking, but the one person I thought for sure wouldn’t be was. Melissa hardly ever drinks so I was a little surprised to see her accept an alcoholic beverage prepared for her by Brandon and actually drink it instead of just holding onto it all night like she does when we go to parties and stuff. I didn’t question her decision but I did feel like reminding her of the hell I went through the morning after I puked on a poodle.

Ah yes, good times…

We were all laughing and loosening our waistbands as we got settled in the living room portion of the tent and you’d think it would’ve been an enjoyable evening but as the night wore on, it didn’t look like “enjoyable” was going to be the best word to describe the mood. For me, it didn’t even start off all that great because I was forced to deal with more of that irksome jealous feeling when Bridget practically threw herself at Tristan as he and Jeff climbed in the tent carrying pie tins.

“Oh my God, how did you get these?!” Bridget asked, trying to grab a tin of what she thought was contraband that Tristan was holding above her head.

 
“I made extras,” Jeff said before I could answer. Granted, my answer would’ve probably been in the form of a tent spike through Bridget’s back, but still…

“No way!
You
made these? They were by far the best dessert out there today!”

Remember last month and the whole pot conversation on Tristan’s Wall of Infamy? Well, the part where Jeff said he bakes is astonishingly true. He really does and he’s
really
good at it. After he and Tristan had gotten his bike and swapped the tires for paddles and stuff, Jeff went home and baked up six pumpkin cheesecakes for which we are all most grateful, because they are seriously scrumdiddlyumptious. Four were out for dinner but he kept these two hidden in a cooler with dry ice. Again, you gotta appreciate those who plan in advance.

“I know…good looks, brains, fantastic in multiple rooms of the house…I’m the perfect package.”

It’s really a good thing he left out modest, that’d be a complete lie. I’ll give him the rest of it
,
though. Oh, aside from the multiple rooms thing because yeah…um
,
no. I’m assuming Kate agrees
,
but she and I haven’t ever talked about sex before. I’m not really sure why, but I think she and I have a “don’t ask-don’t tell” kind of understanding. Huh. Maybe I should seek some of her discerning wisdom on that front
,
though…I never thought of it before.
 

Everyone started laughing about Jeff’s not so humble opinion of himself and then his response to what Julia said shocked the shit out of not only me, but just about everyone sitting there. Everyone aside from Tristan and Kate that is…

“You’re not perfect until you don’t live off your parents, have a ton of money, and own your own home…oh and you have to like kids…I hate guys who don’t like kids.”

“Like I said, I’m perfect.”

We all started to blow him off but he just sat there
,
nodding in the affirmative with a grin. Then he started to tick off on his fingers the “perfect points.”

“We all know I’m drop-dead sexy (
so
not modest…he cracks me up), you’re demolishing the evidence of my culinary skills, Katy can testify to my other talents (she just rolled her eyes), I have a four-point-o GPA (again, that’s news to me), and my money is my own as is the house I live in. (Excuse me? Did I hear him right?) As a matter of fact, in about three months I can kick my dad out if I want to. Oh, and I
love
kids.” When he finished listing his perfection qualifications, he gave Kate, who’s now looking at
him
in adoration, a kiss on her forehead.

“Bullshit,” Brandon said, thinking he was calling a bluff. I’m getting the distinct impression that Jeff is totally serious
,
though.

“Completely unbelievable
,
but it’s completely true,” Kate said, nodding in confirmation along with Tristan who I noticed was doing the same thing.

“How is that even fuckin’ possible?” Brandon asked with a touch of attitude heavy with disbelief.

“Easy. My mom was rollin’ in dough when she met my dad and when she found out she was pregnant with me and my dad wouldn’t marry her, she paid a visit to Katy’s parents. She had Katy’s mom sell her a house and her dad write her up a living trust
,
and she put everything in my name. Then, she died in the hospital after having me,” Jeff elucidated for us with a shrug of his shoulders.

“My mom and dad are co-trustees and executors of the trust,” Tristan added to give credence to Jeff’s story.

“Dude, I’m sorry. I had no idea your mom was gone.” Interesting…Brandon does have feelings. I don’t think it’s necessarily intentional, but he’s usually oblivious to how his words affect others. “It sucks growing up without one…my mom didn’t die
,
but she bailed on us when I was five and my dad never got over it.”

Ah. Knowing this, I think maybe I should cut Brandon a little more slack for not having a whole lot of tact in his conversation skills.

“It’s okay
,
dude, it hasn’t been bad for me without her. Tristan’s mom totally has that part covered and my dad’s really pretty cool, he just doesn’t talk a lot about what happened because it makes him depressed.”

“Wait. I’m confused. How did Kate’s and Tristan’s parents get so involved in everything?” Melissa queried.

It was a logical question for Melissa to ask, being a trust-fund baby herself thanks to her grandma. So that being the case, she knows how these things work and even though I don’t have any experience with wills aside from being left jewelry; I was just as confused as Melissa. You see, as far as anyone knows, again apparently excluding Kate and Tristan, Jeff’s mom didn’t know Kate’s or Tristan’s parents so it seems like an odd choice for her to pick them for such major roles in her and her child’s life.

Taking a deep breath and winking at Melissa, Jeff started to explain how he came to be. “Okay, sadly
,
even without enticing nude photography to mention, like in last night’s entertaining tale
,
you kinda need some history to understand how it all happened. However,
I’ll
try to keep it as short as I can without confusing you all. So, let’s begin… My dad went to school with Tristan’s parents and Katy’s mom, but he got picked up by a minor league team right outta high school and moved outta state to play with them for a year before he got called up to pl—”

“I didn’t know your dad played pro ball,” Pete interrupted.

I didn’t know that either and from the looks on Melissa’s and MaryAnn’s faces, neither did they.

Jeff sighed and shared the briefest of looks with Tristan before answering and I got the impression he hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Yeah, he did, but he’s kind of bitter about it.”

“Why the hell for?” Pete’s extremely interested in this whole part but I’m not sure why.

“Shit. Dude, there’s a reason why I haven’t told you about him.”

“There
better
fuckin’ be because I think you owe me a
goddamned explanation
…one of my best friend’s fathers was a major league ball player and he
never
fuckin’ tells me about it?!” Now Pete is
highly
agitated and well on his way to being pissed off, which I’ve never seen before.

Let me give you a little more info on Pete real quick. He’s average/tallish guy height, kind of built, he has medium brown, messy guy hair and warm brown eyes. And you could probably say he’s attractive but not in an “OMG, I hope he asks me out” way. It’s more like you’d say to yourself, “Huh. I suppose I’d go out with him if he asked.” He’s sort of unassuming and tends to blend into the background
,
but at this particular moment in time, he’s giving off such intense energy that I would call him a force to be reckoned with which surprisingly catapults him straight into the “OMG, I
have
to have him” category. It’s like he’s become a completely different person and that persona will
never
be denied what it wants. And right now, it wants answers.

Oh and just so you know, Pete doesn’t swear all that often so that’s also how I know he’s getting worked up. The tent has, all of a sudden, become a pretty uncomfortable place to be…

Melissa, not wanting to stare back and forth between them but not knowing where to look either, has taken over flipping through the catalog of spy equipment Jillian just abandoned. Jill, who’s been listening with one ear to her iPod while circling “wish list” items in the catalog and hasn’t been paying all that much attention to what we’ve been talking about, has picked up on the uncomfortable tension and is now watching Pete carefully. Kate is looking at Jeff, Tristan is looking at me—it almost feels like he’s avoiding eye contact with Pete which is weird—and the rest of the people present are looking like they wished Jillian had brought more catalogs.

On a sigh and looking down at the drink in his hands, Jeff murmured, “He says baseball ruined his life.”

“How in the
fuck
did it
ruin
his life?”

“Pete
,
dude, he was
really
fuckin’ good like you...” Good like you?? I glanced at Tristan in confusion and he gave me the barest shake of his head meaning, “Not now, I’ll tell you later,” so I looked back at Jeff as he continued. “But he blew out his goddamned shoulder, had a surgery for that
,
and then right when he was just startin’ to get game time again, his fuckin’ elbow went and he
didn’t
come back from the Tommy John, okay?”

I’m not sure what “the Tommy John” is, but I’m guessing it’s a sports related injury or something, seeing as how it’s named after a person and Jeff put the “the” in front of it. You know, like Lou Gehrig’s disease wasn’t called that until a famous baseball player died from it.

“SHIT!”
Pete swore through clenched teeth. “You
still
should’ve fuckin’ told me.”

“Yeah, I know, dude. I’m sorry. I just thought…you know. We good?”

“Yeah I know…go back to your story.”

And just like that, Mr. Hyde, AKA: “Lonely Pete,” settled back into his normal
,
unpretentious temper. He did seem distracted for a while
,
though
,
because he pulled Jillian’s catalog away from in front of Melissa and
 
just stared at it without flipping any pages.

“Okay. Uh…
Shit
. I forgot where I was,” Jeff said to himself in irritation at having done exactly what he’d been teasing Melissa about doing last night.

“Your dad moved out of state,” Tristan supplied for Jeff who widened his eyes at him and blew out a silent breath as if to say, “Jesus, I’m glad that’s over.”

“Right. So when he came back five or six years later, he looked up all his old buddies. Now, Katy’s dad was my mom’s lawyer and how she and my dad actually met. When my dad moved back to town and got in touch with Tristan’s parents and Katy’s mom, Katy’s parents thought it would be fun to fix him up so they could triple or something. Anyway, my mom had just gone through a divorce where she walked away with an assload of money and she wasn’t looking for anything serious
,
so Katy’s dad set up a blind date. My parents had only been dating a few months when my mom got pregnant.