Hush (7 page)

But . . . whatever. A lot of years had passed. A lot of water under the proverbial bridge. She wasn‘t going to change his mind now. Coby loved him and Daddy Dave was still a good guy, even if his crown was tarnished a bit in his love for a girl only a year older than Coby herself and one the same age as Faith. Coby had mostly kept her real feelings about the union to herself. Mostly. Her sister, her mother, and everyone else except for her friend Willa, who, though she still lived across the country, had become a deep confidante, did not know the extent of Coby‘s ambivalence. Willa had given the marriage ten years and had wagered a hundred bucks on the outcome. Unfortunately It looked like Coby was going to win that bet.

―Let‘s get you a drink,‖ Dave said, and Coby walked toward the kitchen across the familiar reddish fir floor of the living room, which had been remodeled and expanded westward to show off a commanding view of the restless Pacific. Tonight she could just make out the ruffling white edges of the waves in the darkness beyond.

The house itself was several short flights of stone stairs above the beach, and apart from the laurel and a few scrub pine trees to the south, there was nothing but sea, sky, and sand. And tonight, shifting, pouring rain and a low, keening wind.

―Hope you brought your suit for the hot tub,‖ Annette said. She was standing at the sink as Coby entered the kitchen and nodding toward the window and the outside deck. Coby raised her brows as she glanced outside again to the helllish weather and Annette laughed. ―JK. Just kidding.

How‘s Cabernet suit you? Red wine makes bad weather better.‖

―Perfect,‖ Coby said.

Then Coby saw through the window above the sink that Annette wasn‘t completely kidding about the hot tub. Sunk into the wooden deck on the south side of the house, it was clearly heated and ready, a cloud of steam on its surface spiraling upward through the slanting rain.

Feeling her dad‘s eyes on her, Coby turned and gave him a smile. He hugged her again, as if he couldn‘t help himself, wrapping his arms around Coby in another hard squeeze that always seemed to convey the question: Do you still love me? Is this okay? Am I still a good father?

Coby hugged him back before sliding away from his embrace, hoping this time that he would be assured that she was on board with his marriage when she clearly wasn‘t. She was trying, but it was hard.

―Are we the only ones here?‖ Coby asked. ―I thought I‘d be the last one.‖

―People are having a little trouble in this god-awful weather,‖ Annette said on a sigh. ―But a bunch of them are here. Yvette, Juliet, and Benedict are at the store. My dad‘s watching TV upstairs in his bedroom. Suzette‘s taking a nap, I think, and Nicholette‘s on her way with her boyfriend, Cal Ekhardt. Do you know him?‖

―I‘ve met him a few times when he‘s picked Nicholette up.‖ Nicholette, Annette‘s older sister, was an attorney with Jacoby, Jacoby, and Rosenthal and consequently had become the Ette sister Coby knew best.

―Juliet‘s guy‘s on his way, too,‖ Annette added. ―Kirk Grassi.‖

―Kirk Grassi,‖ Coby repeated in surprise.

―Well, she invited him, but I can‘t really tell whether they‘re together or not, you know what I mean? And you heard about Suzette and Galen Torres, right? They‘ve been dating for almost a year. Those boys in your class . . . they seem to hook up with my family, don‘t they?‖

Not just the boys
, Coby thought, shooting her dad a surreptitious look. ―I haven‘t seen Kirk since high school. He wasn‘t at Rhiannon‘s memorial service.‖

―Yeah . . . I don‘t know what his deal is. It‘s going to be kind of like a reunion around here.‖

Annette glanced at Dave, too, and smiled. ―Even Mr. Greer is going to be here.‖

―Donald,‖ Dave said, as if they‘d had this discussion before.

―I know, I know. But I‘m never going to be able to call him Donald,‖ Annette dismissed.

―He was our vice principal, after all.‖

Coby thought about Wynona‘s serious-minded father. ―Is Wynona invited?‖

Annette made a face. ―Yes, but she‘s not coming. Said it was to do with work, and maybe it is, but she‘s really not interested in any of us.‖

―I haven‘t seen her in forever, either,‖ Coby said, more to herself than Annette.

―Social work has made her really hard,‖ she said, grimacing. ―It‘s like helping people has made her totally hate them, does that make sense?‖

―She hates the people who victimize children and women,‖ Dave corrected her carefully.

―Not the victims.‖

―Well, she doesn‘t like any of us much, either,‖ Annette responded, giving Dave a long look. Then to Coby, ―You know about her suicide attempts, right?‖

―No,‖ Coby admitted, as Dave snapped, ―Annette!‖

―I‘m not trying to gossip,‖ she snapped right back, ―but if you don‘t know the truth you can sure step into a whole big pile of shit without meaning to. Especially when you ‘re talking to someone like Mr. Greer . . . Donald,‖ she corrected herself.

―You shouldn‘t just announce these things,‖ he said.

―I‘m telling Coby. Coby. No one else.‖

―What happened?‖ Coby asked, and Dave, annoyed, made a gesture of impatience, handed the opened bottle of Cabernet to Annette, then left the kitchen, as if he couldn‘t bear listening in any longer.

Annette made a sound of frustration. ―Oh, hell. I‘m so sick of secrets. I know way too many of them, and keeping a lid on them is like bottling up poison. Eventually the container breaks and the stuff just spills all over everybody. Ugh.‖ She poured them each a glass of ruby red wine. ―I‘m thirty, and I‘m just not going to play that game anymore. That was my birthday promise to myself.

Bad secrets need to be laid on the table. What you know can‘t hurt you as much as what you don‘t.

So, yeah, Wynona made two suicide attempts, one with pills, one by slitting her wrists. Neither effective. I don‘t want to sound like a complete bitch, but they were cries for help, not a serious attempt to kill herself, and she got a lot of attention. Then she decided to dedicate her life to social work, helping others, but she‘s not very good at it.‖

Coby stood with her glass in hand, speechless.

―I am a bitch, aren‘t I?‖ Annette said without a bit of remorse. ―Maybe the real me is just coming out now.‖ She eyed Coby speculatively. ―I‘ve always played by the rules, and it‘s exhausting! I‘m giving myself a pass, starting today. I know you‘re supposed to keep up a facade, ignore the elephant in the room, sometimes, for the sake of being a nice person or something. Half the time, I just don‘t know why I should even care.‖ She shrugged. ―Anyway, to hell with what everybody else thinks. I don‘t give a flying fuck anymore.‖

Dave returned with several more bottles of red from a wine rack in the dining room and, catching the end of her words, appeared embarrassed. Sliding him a look, Annette finished with,

―But what do I know? I‘m just a kid.‖

―You‘re not a kid,‖ Dave said on a sigh.

Annette snorted and, with her drink in hand, headed into the living room, where Coby heard a male voice greet her. Her father, Jean-Claude.

―She‘s kind of on this new kick,‖ Dave said to Coby with a shake of his head. ―I think something happened at the hotel. Somebody convinced her that she wasn‘t leading a ‗real‘ life unless she was brutally honest. Comes off as rudeness, though.‖

―You don‘t have to apologize for her. I don‘t like keeping secrets, either,‖ Coby said, ―but sometimes it‘s a better plan.‖ She couldn‘t help thinking back to the night of the campout and felt herself blush as she remembered what she‘d said about her own father.

From beyond the kitchen Annette and Jean-Claude had entered into an animated conversation, and by mutual, unspoken agreement, Dave and Coby moved to the living room as well. As if the previous conversation hadn‘t even occurred, Annette turned an animated face from Jean-Claude and asked Coby, ―What would you think about having a little brother or sister?‖

Coby automatically shot a look at her father. ―Wow.‖

Dave groaned, but Jean-Claude grinned, his George Clooney good looks engaging. ―Oh, don‘t worry. Annette just loves to fool around. She‘s kidding, Coby. Not that I would mind being a grandfather again.‖ He had the faintest accent, which only increased his appeal. Coby‘s father had said on more than one occasion that it was Jean-Claude‘s charm that got Lovejoy‘s name on the map. He was the face of the hotel, which was really a renovated, older apartment building turned into suites and a first-floor bistro that served tea and coffee by day, wine by night.

Dave stated, ―Annette‘s not pregnant.‖

―No, I‘m not,‖ Annette agreed on a sigh. ―At least not yet.‖ She shot Dave a mischievous look.

Jean-Claude‘s teeth flashed white again. ―You‘re making Coby uncomfortable. Try to not be so shocking, my dear.‖ To Coby he said, ―All my daughters are smart and beautiful, but a little tweaked, eh?‖

―Oh, shut up,‖ Annette told him fondly.

―But you‘re seriously thinking about having a baby?‖ Coby asked, feeling breathless. A half sister or brother? Jean-Claude was right: Coby was definitely uncomfortable.

―You don‘t even like babies,‖ Dave reminded his wife. ―You‘ve told me enough times.‖

―That‘s not true. I just don‘t know jack shit about them,‖ Annette admitted. ―People try to hand me their baby and I practically freak out. It feels like I‘m going to break them. So I keep telling Dave we need to have our own so I won‘t be such a spaz, but, well, he‘s not into it. Says he‘s too old. But it‘s not about the sperm, is it? It‘s the egg that counts, and mine are ripe!‖

She laughed and leaned into him, giving him a big kiss, her earlier tension dissolved.

―You look a little struck,‖ Annette observed a moment later, her knowing gaze on Coby, her arm still around Dave‘s waist.

Coby was pretty certain this was territory she really didn‘t want to travel. Sure, she‘d wondered more than a few times if her dad might start another family, especially given Annette ‘s age, but truthfully, the thought kind of horrified her. ―I don‘t know how to feel about that,‖ she admitted. Then, to her dad, though she knew perfectly well, ―How old are you again?‖

―Too old. Way, way too old. Diapers and babysitters and all those years of school. College .

. .‖ He smiled at her. ―Your mom and I used to take turns driving you and your sister around when you were babies to get you to go to sleep.‖

―Ooh, no. Reminiscing.‖ Annette gave him a slap on the butt. ―It‘s my birthday, so quit it.‖

―Is Joe coming on his own?‖ Dave asked Coby, clearly taking Annette‘s advice and changing the subject.

Coby thought often ways she could answer him, then settled for the unvarnished truth. ―Joe and I aren‘t together anymore. We called it quits based on mutual apathy. This last year had been . .

. a slow ride downhill.‖

Joe was Joseph Hamlin, a member of the firm whom Coby worked with often, the member, in fact, who was Shannon Pontifica‘s lawyer and had set up the meeting between Coby and Shannon for earlier that afternoon. Joe was driven to make partner above all else. He was ten years older than Coby. Divorced. No children. Not looking for any. Coby wasn‘t exactly sure what she wanted for herself in the future, but she knew she needed to keep her options open and, well, Joe didn‘t care about options. It was his way or the highway. Early last month she ‘d chosen the highway, and he‘d pretty much shrugged and said have a nice trip.

So much for the power of passion and true love.

She‘d worried a little that after their breakup, since they worked at the same firm, things would become awkward and weird. But Joe treated Coby just the same as before they‘d dated, and she took a page from his book and treated him the same way. She and Joe just didn‘t go out for drinks alone anymore, or make plans for dinner, or stay over at each other‘s places. They saw each other at work every day and smiled and joked and generally kept on keepin‘ on and that was it.

It was so damned civilized it sometimes made Coby sad.

But if she were really, really honest with herself, she could admit her emotions had never been fully engaged with Joe. She‘d been three-quarters of the way there, but she couldn‘t quite make that final turn. Sometimes she‘d asked herself what she was waiting for. True love? Like, oh, sure. That was going to happen.

And then, if she were really, really,
really
honest with herself . . . and if she dug deep into her own secret self and examined her feelings closely, she could admit that she‘d never loved Joe.

She‘d been in love only once with, of all people, Danner Lockwood, her high school crush. She ‘d had a teen fantasy about Lucas Moore, but she‘d had an actual relationship with Danner during her college years, making her one-time dream a reality. And things between them even kinda worked for a while. She‘d been thrilled and surprised to actually be with him as a lover and a friend. It was glorious. Absolutely glorious. She loved him and he . . . liked her just fine.

Just. Fine.

And it wasn‘t enough.

―I‘m sorry about Joe,‖ Dave said now, unhappily. ―I really liked him.‖

―Everybody likes Joe,‖ Coby said. ―Joe likes Joe pretty well, too,‖ she added with a faint smile.

―Bitchiness,‖ Annette observed with amusement. ―I love it.‖

That made Coby laugh, which surprised all of them. Coby determined that maybe, with enough wine, she might actually have a pretty decent time.

―Well, I‘m totally bummed,‖ Annette said on a sigh. ―I had it all planned out that you would marry Joe and we would have some kids and then you would have some kids and we‘d all hang out together.‖

―Some things are not meant to be,‖ Coby said. This baby thing was much on Annette‘s mind, apparently. ―I‘m picking up some vibes here . . . like maybe you are pregnant and just don‘t want to tell me yet.‖

―Oh, I wanna be. I so wanna be.‖ Annette stared straight at Dave. ―I‘ve
tried
to be, actually.

But somebody‘s not totally on board yet.‖

Jean-Claude eyed his friend and partner and said to Dave, ―You‘re not getting any younger, my friend.‖

―Maybe for my next birthday?‖ Annette tilted up her chin and gazed at Dave pleadingly.