In Your Room (12 page)

“People don’t change in a day,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“That all depends, honey. What’s his name?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Molly turned around and busied herself hanging some clothes. She knew her expression would be a dead giveaway.

“You don’t have to tell me, but you have five hours left in your shift. Think you can hide that grin all day?”

It was a losing battle. Penelope was right and she couldn’t hide it. She turned around and sat down next to her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only in a good way.”

“The thing is, it’s complicated,” Molly began.

“How so?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve never met and probably never will.”

“All right, honey,” Penelope said, putting the mail aside and removing her glasses. “Now I’m confused.”

Molly explained the whole situation, how she was staying in Charlie’s room and he was in hers, how they’d been writing more and more, and how Molly had never felt that close to anyone before.

“That’s possibly the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Penelope said when Molly was done.

“You really think so?” It was a relief to get it all off her chest and to be able to talk about it with someone right in front of her.

“Who writes letters anymore? I’m telling you, it’s the best way to fall in love.”

“They’re not exactly letters,” Molly corrected her.

“Close enough,” Penelope said.

“He knows you, actually,” Molly confessed.

“Well, honey, who is he?”

“Charlie Richards. He told me he shops here sometimes.”

“You’re staying at the Richardses’? Why didn’t I know this before? They are the most wonderful family, especially that Charlie. Now I understand why you’re grinning.”

Molly felt a sense of relief that she had been right to trust her instincts instead of the words of a jilted ex-girlfriend. Penelope had been living in Boulder so long, Molly figured she was one of the people who’d read about the Richardses in the newspaper before Charlie was born. But that wasn’t
what Penelope meant. She was referring to the fact that Charlie was a good person. And that he was hot. Hot enough to break the hearts of beautiful girls like Sylvia. “It’s kind of pointless. I mean, he can have any girl he wants.”

“But he’s writing to you. And I’m not surprised. I can see how you two would get along. Maybe it’s his family situation, but that boy has a sensitivity I’ve rarely seen. He has an old soul, just like you.”

Without realizing it, Molly had inched her chair closer so that she and Penelope were practically touching. It was reassuring hearing about Charlie from someone who knew him. It made her feel less insecure about trusting him, a total stranger.

“What’s this?” Penelope lifted Molly’s sketchbook from beneath the pile of mail.

Molly had been drawing when Penelope went on her morning coffee run and mistakenly left it there. “It’s nothing,” she said, slipping the book into her purse.

“I see. Just more of your doodling, right?”

Molly didn’t know that Penelope had seen her drawings, but before she could answer, the front door jingled. It was Laura.

“Mom? Hi,” she said on her way to greet her. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Molls. I hope I’m not bothering you, but we were in town and wanted to see if we could take you for lunch. Ron’s just looking for parking.”

Molly looked back to Penelope.

“Go on. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t know what she’d talk about with Ron during a whole meal, but she needed to eat.

“Molly, you’ve already done enough to last me several months. Go enjoy yourself.”

“I love the new display, Molls,” Laura said, taking in the mannequins now dressed in completely different outfits. “When did you change it?”

“Last week.” Now that she was more familiar with the inventory, she had several outfits prepared for window rotation every week. This was already her third display.

“You have quite a daughter,” Penelope said. “Her smart thinking has brought in so much more business. Customers think we’re constantly getting new merchandise—and selling out of it. It’s been a revolving door around here ever since Molly arrived.”

Molly blushed and adjusted the belt on one of the mannequins. “That’s a slight exaggeration,” she said.

“A surefire way to make Molly work harder is to give her a compliment,” Laura joked. “She’s like her dad that way.”

Molly winced. She’d said it so casually, like he wasn’t dead, like
he
was the one out there looking for a parking spot. “My real dad,” Molly clarified.

A silence fell over the room, and she immediately regretted saying it, even before she noticed her mother’s eye twitch the way it always did when her feelings were hurt. She was about to say something, to try and take it back, when the door jingled again.

“Sorry it took so long,” Ron announced, entering the store. “Hi, you must be Penelope,” he said, walking over to shake her hand. “I’m Ron.”

• • •

Molly followed a few paces behind as they made their way down the Pearl Street Mall. Strangers passing by thought they were just a regular family enjoying a beautiful day like everyone else.

“Where should we go?” Ron asked, slowing down so Molly could catch
up. “I haven’t been here in years, so you’re the expert.”

“There’s a good Italian place just down there,” Molly said, pointing to a green awning over a cluster of tables on the sidewalk. She had been there once before. The food was okay, but the key was that it came quickly.

“That sounds perfect,” Laura said, pulling Molly closer so she could walk between them the rest of the way.

When they got there, the host sat them inside, but Ron insisted on the last available table on the sidewalk patio where they could have a view of the crowds streaming by.

The waiter arrived with the menus and two wineglasses, which he placed in front of Ron and Laura. “We’ll be needing three glasses,” Ron corrected, in a confident tone to stave off any questions about Molly’s age.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter said.

“I was thinking white. Is that okay with you?” he asked, directing the question at Molly.

Molly was caught off guard. She had stopped feeling like anything approaching an adult now that she was officially the third wheel. Working at the store at least made her feel like she was her own person, not some annoying tagalong. “I better not,” Molly finally said. “I have to get back to work.”

Ron consulted Laura next and ordered a half-bottle of chardonnay. Ron poured Molly’s glass first when the bottle arrived. “Just a small taste,” he said. “So you can join in the toast.”

Molly’s stomach tightened into small knots. The last time Ron had made a toast, her life had been turned upside down.

“To summer,” he said, clinking his glass against Laura’s. Molly obliged and raised hers too. “And to wine in the middle of the afternoon.”

Molly took a sip of the wine once the waiter had taken their orders. The only alcohol she usually liked was beer, which Celeste advised she keep to herself, since it was so uncouth, but this tasted pretty good.

“Your mom told me you went mountain biking,” Ron said.

“I just went up a trail. It wasn’t that far.” She knew he was just trying to be friendly, but there was no way she could explain the way the ride had made her feel when she didn’t feel comfortable talking to him about something as simple as the weather.

“I miss riding trails,” he said, taking another sip from his glass.

Molly looked up, surprised. “You do?”

Ron nodded. “I used to do it every summer growing up. My parents traveled so much that once school let out they’d drop me off at my grandfather’s farm in Vermont for a couple of months. There’s only so much lawn mowing and cow milking a kid can take, so I’d spend hours up on the trails.”

She had never thought about Ron as a real person, with parents and a grandfather and a past in the hills of Vermont. Only as someone she’d have to tolerate for the rest of her life. This new information was…interesting.

“Well, why haven’t you been riding here?” she asked. “I mean, there’s practically a trail in our backyard.”

“I haven’t ridden since my last summer there, right before I began my freshman year of college. My grandfather died in the middle of my parents’ divorce, so the farm got sold in the process and I never got to go back.”

Laura reached for Ron’s hand. “I never knew that, honey. Molly’s right. You should try it again here.”

Molly swallowed. She felt guilty for so readily dismissing Ron when he clearly had memories and feelings just like she did. Maybe—maybe she
could try just a little bit harder. “I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his bikes,” she offered. “He left a note saying we could use them all summer,” she added, trying to cover how she knew this.

“Maybe you two can go together sometime,” Laura suggested.

“I’d love that,” Ron said, but with the waiter arriving at the same time with their food, Molly pretended she didn’t hear him.

“I better take mine to go,” she said, looking at her watch. “I’m sure Penelope’s waiting for me.”

• • •

• • •

Molly was right. Charlie had seen the observatory on his rides in Griffith Park—it was hard to miss—but he had never been inside. He turned off the
trail onto a road that stretched, like a runway, to the imposing white domed building at the end, perched on the Los Angeles side of the mountain overlooking the city.

Once the road ended, a well-tended lawn took over, divided by a paved path in the middle. Even though he’d never been to Washington, it reminded him of pictures he’d seen of the National Mall. He locked his bike to a post and walked down the path, past a large sculpture called
Astronomers Monument
, depicting busts of famous scientists like Newton and Galileo. In front was a sundial, whose shadow accurately determined that it was eight minutes to six. Just outside the entrance a series of concentric circles was engraved in the ground, each corresponding to the various planetary orbits around the sun.

As he walked toward the stairs leading to the doors, a guard stopped him. “I’m sorry, sir, we’re closing at six tonight for a private event.”

Charlie looked at his watch, then back at the guard. “Can I just go to the gift shop? I’ll be out in five minutes, I promise. I know what I’m getting.”

“I’m not supposed to let anyone else in.”

Charlie slumped his shoulders and started to turn around.

“You have four minutes,” the guard whispered, taking pity on him. “And go down over there,” he said, pointing out a staircase that looked like it went down right into the canyon below. “It’ll take you right to the gift shop.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out in three.” He ran across the lawn and down the steps two at a time, through a door on the left that took him right to the store.

Luckily it was empty, making it easier to scan the aisles even faster. Charlie hadn’t been lying; he did know exactly what he was looking for, and he finally found it hanging from a twirling display near the cashier: a packet of glow-in-the-dark adhesive stars.

“Anything else?” the guy behind the counter asked.

He had his head down toward the cash register, but when he looked up, Charlie recognized him immediately. “Hey, you’re Jose, right?” Jose looked at him, blank. “Charlie. I met you the other day with Celeste.”

At the mention of her name, Jose’s expression softened. “Oh, hey. Sorry, man. I see thousands of faces here all day. They kind of blend together. Is Celeste with you?”

“No, I’m here alone.”

Jose rang him up and handed him his bag and receipt. “We’re closed now, so I’ll walk out with you.”

“This place looks amazing,” Charlie commented when they reached the top of the stairs. Since the observatory was perched at the edge of the mountain, it provided a panoramic view of the L.A. basin.

“You didn’t check it out?” Jose asked, surprised.

“Only had time for this,” Charlie explained, holding up the bag with the stickers. “I’m definitely coming back.”

“They for your girl?” Jose asked. “The stickers,” he added, reading the confusion on Charlie’s face. “Chicks love that kind of thing. I’ve been working here for ten months, so you pick up stuff like that.”

“I’m not really sure what she is,” he said.

“No shame, bro. Most dudes in Celeste’s world feel that way.”

“Oh, they’re not for Celeste. She’s just my temporary neighbor for the summer,” Charlie clarified. “I usually live in Boulder and they’re for…someone there.”

“Ah, well, Celeste thrives on competition, so watch out,” Jose joked.

“She doesn’t know about any of this so, you know—”

“I got it,” Jose interrupted. “I won’t say anything.” He walked over to
the left. “Come on. You gotta at least check this out since you came all this way.”

He was standing on a bronze-plated line that ran diagonally across the patio toward the railing. “What is it?” Charlie asked.

“Sunset lines. You see, they run all the way across here and tell you where the sun is going to set depending on the time of year, give or take.”

Charlie walked over to the summer solstice line, which almost exactly lined up with the position of the sun, since it had only just happened a couple weeks before. The sun hovered in the sky, on its way down, to the left of the Hollywood sign. He’d never understood why people cared so much and made pilgrimages to see it, but from this vantage point the oversize square white letters seemed almost majestic, like they belonged there.

“Cool, huh?”

“Yeah, totally,” Charlie said, snapping out of his trance.

As they walked back toward the street, Charlie stopped at the post where he had locked his bike. “This is me.”