Heartless (19 page)

“Hi, I’m Geena.” She was smiling like crazy and totally checking me out.

“Oh, nice to meet you.” I glanced at Josh with a raised eyebrow. Who was this extremely friendly woman?

“Heather, this is my mom.”

“Your mom?” I said this out loud, not in my head. Then I added the next thought out loud instead of keeping that in, too. “You don’t look old enough to have a 22 year old son.”

“Now that’s a compliment I never tire of. She’s a keeper, Josh honey.”

A man, with a small beer belly and clear green eyes that seemed to smile with or without his mouth joining in, came up behind Geena.

“And that’s Garth,” said Josh.

“So this is the gal that’s got you all wired up?” He eyed me approvingly. For some reason, he was the first middle-aged man, besides Uncle Wayne, Brian from work, and my late father, who didn’t make me feel awkward. I liked him right away. Geena, too.

“Did you terrify her on the way in?” said Garth.

“Sure did,” said Josh proudly.

Geena placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’re okay, right? It’s kind of tradition with us. The first time I brought Josh—

“—Aw, mom. Don’t tell her
that
story.” He seemed to shrink down in his seat.

She ignored him. “I did the same thing to him—

“Keep in mind I was only ten when she tells you the next part,” pleaded Josh.

“And he got so scared…” Geena was grinning ear to ear and I could see a burst of laughter building inside her. “He was so scared he
peed
his pants!”

“Ten. Only ten,” muttered Josh, shaking his head.

“Of course, I brought extra clothes, thinking that might happen.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “He was a bit of a bed-wetter in those early years.”

“
Mom
!”

“When I brought, Garth…”

“Yeah, yeah, I can tell my own story, Gigi. I
farted
.” He nodded his head as if relieved to get that confession out of the way.

Geena crossed her arms and gave Garth a sly look. “It wasn’t the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Garth slung his arms around her waist. “Ah, the wonders of love…” He nuzzled her ear and she pretended to struggle from his grasp. They ended up kissing, and slowly moved toward the car parked next to ours, which must have been theirs.

I looked around at our surroundings. With Geena and Garth’s warm welcome and Josh finally returning to his sweet self, I was beginning to relax again.

“So what is this place?” I said.

“It’s the North by Northwest Drive-in. Run by Hitchcock enthusiasts.”

“Really?”

“The guy who owns the land is the nephew of a brother of a cousin of Alfred Hitchcock’s, or something like that. Decided to build the big screen and set up the sound system. It’s been around for years. Well, since before I was ten, I guess.”

“So what film are we seeing?”

“You mean you haven’t guessed
that
?” Josh looked genuinely surprised.

I shook my head.

“Psycho, baby!”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. And people here take it seriously, too. Some people dress up and act out scenes, just like at Rocky Horror.” He pointed to a stage under the big screen. “And there’s always a group of violinists who play along with the shower scene soundtrack.”

“I had no idea…”

“There’s an underground Hitchcock cult in this city. I bet you didn’t know that either.”

“Uh, uh.” I shook my head.

When I was young, I used to watch old movies with my dad. Films by Preston Sturgess and Frank Capra, John Ford and Billy Wilder. It was one of the ways we’d hang out together, even though my mom didn’t really approve. My dad had been a real movie buff because, his dad, my grandfather, who died when I was still a baby, used to be the movie theater projectionist in my dad’s small home town. I think when he watched those movies he felt nostalgic for his own childhood, and now that I was here with Josh, I was feeling nostalgic about my own childhood, before adolescence, before my mom’s second, third, and fourth miscarriages…Out of all the films I ended up seeing with my dad, Psycho hadn’t been one of them. My mother had felt strongly that it wasn’t appropriate. We only got away with watching Casablanca because my mom had been out at a church event on a rare occasion without my dad, who I think had been suffering from a cold that evening. The illicit love affair between Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart had been frowned upon by my mother and her churchly views, even though the characters took the high road in the end, putting liberty and justice before their love. I don’t think my mother ever understood that part.

Josh was watching me, his blue eyes dancing, a crooked smile bending his luscious lips. “So do you like your surprise so far?”

“Don’t ever, ever, scare the crap out of me again like that. You have to promise.”

He held up his fingers Boy Scout style. “On my honor. You only have to be initiated once.” He winked.

“Thank goodness. I think you cured me of my desire for surprises for, like,
ever
.”

“Oh, but it’s not over yet.”

I whipped my head around. “Yes it is! You just promised.”

He laughed. “You were sort of right about having a picnic.”

He reached into the back seat and moved the blanket aside.

“I packed enough for all of us. I hope you don’t mind. My mom and Garth said they’d bring the drinks and dessert.”

I turned in my seat to look at all of Tupperware containers.

“Did you make all that?”

“Yep. And I’m determined to teach you how to cook a few things before you head off to college, kiddo.”

“That would shock Marsha and Wayne.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll help you make a welcome home dinner for them.”

I smiled. “Really?”

“Sure. Now that you’ve met my mom, I think it’s time I met your parents.” He used air quotes for parents, knowing my real mom and dad were gone.

Slightly sobered by his mention of ‘meeting the parents’ I swiveled back to face the front windshield. Josh got busy pulling out roast chicken legs, potato salad, pickles, radishes, hummus and pita.
Noticing the hummus, I said. “At least that you bought at a deli, right?”
He shook his head. “I like it real lemony so I always make it myself.”

I sighed. Josh had to be too good to be true. Of course, that’s what I’d been thinking during our scary ride through the trees. So way too good to be true that I was going to end up mangled and strangled for being innocent enough to believe in love. Such thoughts were morbid, and self-punishing, which showed me how much healing I still had ahead of me; I had to get over feeling that something bad was going to happen any time something good was going on. Is that what Miranda had meant about having sex in the cornfield with Ethan being linked to the fire and my parents’ death?

Despite my fears, and negative imagination, look what had happened. Josh had gone to some trouble to pull this off. For me. Now I was back to feeling all vulnerable and as if love really were a possibility for me. Why did anticipating a hopeful future feel even scarier than picturing a tragic one?

Geena and Garth returned carrying a six-pack. Moisture droplets sprinkled off the cold cans.

I leaned toward Josh and whispered, “I thought your mom was into wine.”

“Not at the drive-in. Beer is the trad—“

“—
tradition
. Aha.” I nodded, getting the picture.

Garth handed us each a cold one and then tucked the other two in our back seat. We all cracked our tabs and frothed in unison.

“Hand me some chicken,” said Garth.

Josh handed over a leg but the scent in my nose wasn’t from chicken.

“I smell popcorn.”

Geena pointed toward the back of the field. “Ralph always brings his commercial popcorn maker. Hitch Johnson, the guy who owns the field, lets Ralph run power off his barn.”

“We’ll get our corn later,” said Garth. “Right before the show starts, when it’s dark.”

There was still light in the sky—wisps of orange off to the west but mostly pink, purple and indigo over our heads. I guessed the movie would begin in about half an hour.

“What did you bring for dessert, Mom?” said Josh.

“Jujubes, licorice, and Junior Mints, what else?”

“I think Heather was expecting something like chocolate mousse or home-baked cookies.”

“Oh, man, did Josh already tell you that I’m a terrible cook?”

I smiled up at Geena, who had perched herself on the hood of the car and was looking at me over the windshield. She mocked-glared at Josh.

I said, “Then we have something in common.”

She raised her beer in salute. “I can pair it well with wine but when it comes to turning ingredients into gourmet food I’m at an utter loss.” She laughed and I was struck by how young and casual she was, so not like my own mother.

“Josh got sick of my lack of cooking skills and took classes at the community center as soon as he could. You were how old?”

“Twelve,” said Josh, scooping potato salad into bowls he had brought. He handed one to me, and then perched a chicken leg and a pickle on top.

Geena said, “He was the youngest in the class, of course. Turned all the young ladies’ heads.” Geena winked and took her bowl of salad.

I realized that I was being initiated into more than this club of movie enthusiasts; I was being welcomed into Josh’s family, too. There was only him and his mom, and now recently, Garth, but together they seemed cozier and more loving than anything I’d ever experienced in my own family.

“So, Heather,” said Geena. “Josh tells me you’ve been in Lala land for 3 or 4 years now. Where’d you live before that?”

“Yeah, I don’t even know that yet,” said Josh.

I cleared my throat, quickly sorting out what to say and what to leave out. “I grew up in Wisconsin.”

“Really?” said Geena. “Small world. I spent some years there, in Madison and other parts of the state, though I’m originally from Michigan.”

She gave Josh a brief glance but he was busy trying to capture a pickle that had slipped out of his bowl and onto his lap. “So whereabouts are you from in Whiskey?”

“Near Lacrosse?”

“Oh yeah, I know the area well…” Her voice trailed off and she sipped her beer. Then she looked over the windshield at me and smiled. “Isn’t LA so much better, though?”

I nodded, ready to move on to other topics. “Absolutely, and now that I know California exists, I’ll never go back to Wisconsin.”

“What about your parents?”

“
Mom
,” admonished Josh. “I told you Heather’s aunt and uncle are her parents now.”

Geena slapped her forehead. “Sorry, Heather. Sorry. My bad. Josh did tell me you lost your parents a few years ago. My condolences.”

Josh looked from his mother to me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if concerned that I didn’t take offence.

“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s okay. Feels like a long time ago now. I’ve come a long way since then.” From midwest pastor’s pet to beach-girl wannabe. Of course, I still had a ways to go.

Josh, still looking a bit concerned, smiled my way. He reached for my hand. His fingers were damp with pickle juice. He stared at me thoughtfully.

“Wisconsin, hey? Mom’s right, small world. Seriously, though I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t moved to LA. Everyday, I thank my lucky stars.”

“Not Fate?” I teased.

“Oh no,” interjected Geena. “Josh is on a Fate kick. An
individual
is the sole arbiter of his or her own destiny, honey. Not God, Fate, the stars, or whatever. There’s cause and effect, choice and consequence. That’s it.”

“Sounds like you’re joining me on the Buddhist side of things,” said Garth.

Geena waggled her beer and him. “Even karma’s just an acceptance crutch.”

Josh laughed. “We all get to believe what we want, Mom. I go for Fate, and Heather takes solace in the stars.” He kissed my cheek.

Geena rolled her eyes and slid off the hood of the car. “Come on, Swami Garth. Let’s leave these two lovebirds and say hi to some friends before we get that heap of popcorn.”

As they wandered away I heard her say to Garth, “Now love. Love is something I can believe in…”

I turned to face Josh, who’d moved on to kissing my neck. “I like your mom. She doesn’t seem like a mom at all.”

“I assure you,” he murmured, “she nags me all the time.” He nibbled at my ear.

“I find that hard to believe. It’s obvious she loves you a lot.”

He laid his head on my shoulder and gazed out through the windshield. Some people were climbing up on the stage. One woman wore a blond wig and carried a loose steering wheel and some guy was wearing a woman’s dress and in the process of tying his long ponytail into a bun.

“Yes, she loves me. I’ve been her focus for a long time though. I’m hoping things work out with Garth. She needs to get on with her own life and not worry about me so much. That’s one reason I’m going to college in the fall.”

“To get away from your mom?”

“Not
get away
. Just move a little farther away so she can focus on her own needs. And Garth’s a great guy. He could be the one for her.”

“They do seem made for each other.”

“It’s Fate, I tell ya’.”

“But do you have enough money for college already?” I asked.

“I’ve had enough for a while, actually. Just didn’t feel like the right time to leave. I’m glad I listened to my gut, or I wouldn’t have met
you
.”

I reached down and stroked his ‘gut’.

“Mmmm….”

I moved my hand up to his chest and then his collarbone.

“Hey, Heather,” he said in a languid voice. “Did you and your parents have a house in Lacrosse?”

“Yeah.” My finger trailed along his jaw line. I felt tiny whiskers under my fingertips.

“Is it still there?”

“No. Sold. Why?”

He shrugged and snuggled closer to me. “Do you ever plan to tell me how they died?”

My fingers froze and my whole body tensed. Josh opened his eyes. I drew my hand away from him and folded it into my lap. Looking through the windshield I noticed someone had dragged up a bathtub with a shower curtain and rod around it onto the stage.

Josh straightened in his seat. “Heather?”