A Girl's Best Friend (23 page)

I’ve asked Mrs. Henry to make sure you get an education, and
I have prayed that if there’s a God, He will hear my prayer and not
let you make the same mistakes. You are a beautiful treasure,
Morgan, the best thing I ever did in this lifetime, and I want the
path to be easier for you. Get an education. Make your own money.
Know that I loved you, even if I didn’t know how to show it. I will
always love you, Morgan. When I think of some of the things I’ve
said to you, I feel the cancer in my bones, and I think I deserve it
and more. Be love, Morgan. Don’t let them break you.

All my love,
Mom

My friends are flanking me, their tears as apparent as my own, but my first awful thought is,
This is a day late and a
dollar short! Get an education? Be independent? Thank you,
Mrs. Henry, for handing this to me after the Feds came with my
less-than-independent name attached to a grand-jury hearing.

My friends hug me from each side. “I think Mrs. Henry gave this to me a little late. I could have used the ‘make your own money’ advice a little earlier in the process.”

We all laugh through our tears.

“Let’s drive into town and see a movie,” Lilly says.

“And eat at that fattening steak place,” Poppy adds.

We both look at her, surprised that she’d not have a lecture for such a suggestion.

“Vitamin B12,” she says, and we giggle. “And vitamin B6.”

“That is not going to help you detox tomorrow, during your facial and massage,” I remind her.

“No, it’s not,” Poppy admits. “But we’re about breaking our addictions this weekend, aren’t we?”

I grab my friends’ hands, and I praise God for their friendship. As I stand on the verge of legal uncertainty, I have to say that they are my constants. They remind me that God is up there, and He is listening.

My emotions are in full tilt as I discover just how much my mother and I were alike, and how we both looked in the wrong places for love. Actually, in the same man. My father may not be evil, but he is certainly not a reservoir of love. His well ran dry a long time ago, and he filled the coffers with gold instead. I’ve thought about calling him a million times, but right now, I’m so confused I’m just happy for the respite.

“So? Steak?” Poppy asks.

“Steak,” I answer, feeling a bit like I’m enjoying my last meal. But the thing is? I’m going to enjoy it.

My mother loved me. She had an odd way of showing it, but in order to break this addiction, I have to show it, and build on this letter of encouragement.

“I love you gals!”

“What’s not to love?” Lilly asks.

We get dressed for dinner, and I allow Poppy to dab my wrists with essential oils that will lead to calmness. This definitely beats buying shoes, and it fills a far deeper need. The words of my favorite hymn come to mind: “Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”

In my mother’s way, that’s exactly what she was trying to say: share your heart with the right people, and seal it from harm. Okay, maybe I’m taking liberties. But my mother loved me. Right now, I could sit in prison with this thought. It changes everything.

chapter 23

S
teak. Filet mignon, to be exact, and it was only the beginning. We indulged in Caesar salad, minestrone soup, and tiramisu—all served with several glasses of Diet Coke. Literally, they could have rolled us out of the restaurant, like Violet Beauregarde out of Willie Wonka’s factory.

“Let’s go to the movies!” Lilly says when we exit the restaurant.

“Chick flick.” Poppy agrees.

“Poppy, what’s gotten into you? What about detoxing to purify our systems before tomorrow?” I ask.

“So we’ll get acne after the facial. Big deal. We survived puberty, we can survive this. It’s not like any of us have dates, except Lilly, and she doesn’t even care.”

“Are you not feeling well?”

“No, just ready to have some fun.” Poppy claps her hands together. “Let’s boogie.”

“What is going on?” I ask. “We know your type of fun has nothing to do with eating badly and watching a chick flick. You do realize we’ll have to get popcorn and candy at the theater.”

“It’s the rule,” Lilly adds with a shrug.

“I want to break my addictions, too. Why should you guys have all the fun? I need my own issues, don’t I? I don’t want to be left out. Besides, I’m practicing to get on
Survivor
.”

“The TV show?”

Poppy nods.

“No offense, Poppy, but I think what you eat now is closer to what they’re going to give you on
Survivor
. Don’t go getting taste buds now. It will totally harm your chances.”

“I can’t imagine who would want to be on that show. I mean, unless you’re looking to lose weight, what’s the point?” Lilly adds.

“It’s about facing your fears, struggling against the elements, and winning, proving to yourself you can do it,” Poppy says enthusiastically.

“To prove what? That you can live on bugs? When are Americans going to actually need this skill?” Lilly asks.

“I think that’s
Fear Factor
,” I clarify for Lilly.

“Still, don’t you wonder what other countries think of us and our entertainment? We want to watch people eat disgusting things. How weird is that?”

“It’s strange,” I agree.

We get into the Beamer, which is currently being tracked by the feds according to George. He told me they would, and also that I won’t be allowed to leave the county without permission. This is before anyone finds me guilty, I might add. This is after the charges are read. So much for a free country and innocent until proven guilty. I fear I’ll be bidding good-bye to Spa Del Mar, and I think that’s why I was so anxious to get down here for one last hurrah.

We’re just arriving at the theaters when Lilly’s cell phone rings, and we all groan. Apparently, the phones work out here, and I have to say, being free and gorging ourselves on fattening food was a very liberating experience. It was like I was flying! (Of course, now I feel nailed to the ground by fat
calories, but that’s another story.)

“Lilly Jacobs Design,” she says into the phone. “Uh-huh. Yes. Right.” More waiting. “I’ll be back soon.” She clicks the phone shut and stares at us, the lights from the parking lot highlighting her face and her flattened, pomaded hair. Lilly is under the distinct impression that big hair makes her less professional. In actuality, the pasted look is not for her. Max has tried to tell her that, as have we, but daily she applies a litany of flattening products on her hair. At least she’s not going to the salon for straightening anymore. She learned her lesson when her promotion went to someone else the last time. I guess we all take baby steps, don’t we?

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Max. I didn’t actually tell him I was leaving town.”

“Are you nuts?” I squeal. “Why not?”

“His mother came to town by surprise. I think it was good timing that I left.”

I just shake my head. “You know, how about if I show up at Max’s house and claim to be his girlfriend, because I’ll tell you, I’d have that man to my father’s store before he could finish his next column.”

“Come on, the movie’s starting,” Lilly says.

“Not for us, it’s not. We’re going to the spa. I’m going to see if they’re offering a hot-stone massage and lobotomy session for you, Lilly.”

“Why are you so anxious to get me married off? What if Max’s mother disowns him? Won’t you feel bad then?”

I laugh out loud at this. “Lilly, you would never allow yourself to fail at anything you set your mind to. We’re going home, and you are going to meet Max’s mother. What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a stellar experience with my own mother. What makes you think Max’s will like me?” She drops her head in her hands, “Oh gosh, guys. If you only knew.”

“Max loves you, and it behooves a mother-in-law to like her daughter-in-law. The daughter-in-law is the key to unlock the grandchild door. If you didn’t love him that would be one thing, but you’re just completely warped. We’re going to fix your addiction, change it from Lysol to a view of the Bay. A view you can only get in Max’s house.”

“Why is it such an issue for you? You should be more worried about Poppy trying to get on
Survivor
.”

The truth is it’s easier to worry about Lilly’s garbage. Lilly’s stuff can be fixed. Mine is completely out of my hands. “Do you know how the frog in the water gets really comfortable, when in fact he’s sort of reaching the boiling point?”

“I’ve heard that story.”

“That’s what you’re doing, Lilly. You’re boiling over in your own filth, and spraying Lysol isn’t fixing the problem. You’re like a walking bacterial infection, and you won’t take Max, the antibiotic.”

Poppy shakes her head. “It would be a good analogy, but you shouldn’t take antibiotics. They’re making infection impervious to the antibiotics.”

“Do you mind? It’s an analogy. Not medical advice.”

“It’s not a very good analogy is all I’m saying.”

“It’s good for Lilly; she hates bacteria. I’m trying to show her she’s becoming what she hates because of fear.”

“I thought we were going to the movies.”

“I thought when you let your hair go natural, you were fixed, but I can see by the shellac currently on your hair you’re not quite comfortable in your own skin at the moment.”

“Morgan, I appreciate your worrying about me, but Max and I are fine. You’re creating trauma where there is none. Relax, will you?”

But of course, if I relax, I have to think about all my own garbage, and I don’t want to go there. “Max is your man, Lilly.”

“I’m not arguing that. I’m only saying his mother might become a serial killer when she finds out I’ve trapped her son.”

“If there’s a serial killer present, it’s Nate. Freak of nature. Who would put up with a smelly dog like that? And how he’s always hovering ready to offer a word of encouragement while he treats his own girlfriend with contempt? What do you see in him as a friend?”

“He loves Charley,” Lilly immediately comes to Nate’s defense. “Nate accepts people and dogs for who they are. He doesn’t expect anything more of them than they can handle.”

Please. “Is that what this is about? You think Max wants more out of you?”

“I know his mother does.”

“You don’t know any such thing. You’ve never bothered to meet the woman.”

“Life is good. Why do I want to mess with it?”

“I didn’t mess with it, and look where it got me. Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is fifteen years to life.”

“You’re different—you trusted too many people. I don’t trust anyone. Right now, it seems to be to my benefit.”

“Until you lose Max.”

“I can’t make Max stay, Morgan. If he wants to leave he’s free to go, but there’s more to our story. It’s just not the right time to be talking about it.”

Her words cut me to the core, not because of her great strength, but because of my own great weakness. I don’t just want to be married. I want a man to look at me like Max looks at Lilly. I know Poppy said that George did look at me that way, but I am probably just a human wallet to him. If he gets into my good graces, and even if he doesn’t, he comes out a winner. I could be headed for prison, and a substantial portion of my money is still headed for George’s wallet.

“I think you’re crazy,” I say quietly.

“I’m sure I am. One does not get raised by my nana and turn out normal,” Lilly laughs. “Are we going to the movies or not?”

“Not,” Poppy and I say in unison. “Let’s get back to the spa and go in the hot tub,” I add.

After we drive back to the hotel, I make excuses to the girls and walk into the courtyard under the lit jacaranda tree. Smelling the strong scent of the eucalyptus trees, I think twice about what I’m about to do, but I do it anyway. If I’m going to break my addictions, it’s going to take something stronger than Diet Coke. I take out my cell phone, which by some miracle is actually getting a signal, and I punch in George’s cell phone number.

“Morgan,” he says when he picks up. “Is everything all right?”

I look at my cell phone and see it’s just shortly before eleven p.m.

“Everything’s okay,” I say. Not adding that I just wanted to hear his calm voice. That I just wanted to know he was there, on the other end of the phone line when I called for him. If I were to explain any of this, he’d know just how pathetic I am. That it wasn’t an accident I have been a staple in the
San
Francisco Chronicle
for the last month.

“Do you need anything, Morgan?”

I’m silent. I can’t think of a thing to say. Why on earth did I make this phone call? And what happened to the days when you could just call a boy and hang up? Stupid caller ID.

“No, I don’t need anything,” I finally say.

“Morgan, do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’m at the spa. We drove down this afternoon. It’s been a long day. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You
didn’t wake me. I’m working on your case.”

“I’m not guilty, George.”

“I know that, Morgan.”

“It might not make a difference, true?”

“It makes a big difference.”

“I’m sorry I called. I don’t know why I did. A week ago I was looking for a purpose. Now my purpose is to stay out of jail.”

“I’m glad you called me, Morgan. I hope it means you trust me.”

Oh heavens, I hope it doesn’t mean that. Because I haven’t known George nearly long enough to trust him.

“I should get back to my friends.”

“This is a long road, Morgan. The trial probably won’t happen for a year or more.”

“They won’t put me in prison until then?”

“No, but in some ways, they might as well. They’ll tap your phone, they’ll give you a probation officer who can turn up at any time, and they’ll freeze your assets. It won’t be a party, regardless.”

I sigh and say good-bye before standing under the trees and chastising myself again for calling George. For hoping a man could solve my problems and take me away on his white steed. The addictive cycle has started again. I knew better. But I called him anyway, and he calmed me down. Just like Andy’s voice used to do, just like Marcus’s used to do. I need help. There has to be some twelve-step process for this kind of pathetic.