The Beach House (11 page)

Chapter 7

Chris pulled in behind the Mustang just as Tracy got out. She ignored them as she waited for the guy who'd been driving to come around to her side of the car. When he got there she wrapped her arms around his neck, gave him tongue that must have cleaned his back teeth, and ground her hips into his.

“Some show, huh?” Janice said. She looked at Chris. “You know she's doing this for you.”

It should have bothered him. He waited to see if it would. But he felt nothing. “Like I said, I feel sorry for the guy.”

“Really?”

“Why don't you give her the keys so we can get out of here?”

“Great idea.” Janice rolled down the window as Chris drove by. “Tracy—catch.” She tossed the keys before Tracy had a chance to react, hitting her on the rear end.

“Good throw,” Chris said.

She grinned. “Thanks.”

Normally Chris would have parked on the street in front of the house, leaving the driveway free for Tracy. But not tonight. He and Janice had been inconvenienced enough.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand as he climbed in bed. It was going on four and he was wide awake. When the early morning sun hit his blinds, casting a weird geometric shadow on the opposite wall, he was still wide-eyed. Giving up on sleep, he'd switched to waiting for sounds that would tell him his mother was up. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that he needed to talk to her about. His mind kept racing from one thing to the next, never settling long enough to let him think anything through.

In less than twenty-four hours, he'd gone from being as ordinary as hamburger and fries to a guest at a movie star's party where he couldn't identify half the food on the buffet table. He had no illusions. The ride he was on would be short, a week or two at the most, and then everybody would pack up and go home and forget all about the kid they'd met that summer. But Chris would remember. For the rest of his life he would remember.

Somewhere between thinking about the rock on Gloria's finger and the way he'd felt being on the set with Tony, it had come to Chris that it might be fun to try out for a school play that fall. Not a big role, of course. He'd start out with a small part, and if he liked it, he'd try out for something bigger in the spring, or maybe in college.

When he got home he was going to have to do some research on colleges that had drama departments. Not that he was considering majoring in acting or anything like that. He'd have to have some gigantic ego to think anyone would pay to see him on a stage or in a movie.

But then he didn't care about being a star. He'd be happy doing crowd scenes for the rest of his life. They didn't have to pay him, just being a part of the action was enough—even if it meant he'd never get to buy his own beach house.

He was never going to make it through the weekend and wished he could just sleep until Monday morning.

He heard the door open to the bedroom next to his and softly close again. It had to be his mother. Beverly never got up before nine. After jumping out of bed and into his jeans, he caught up with her before she reached the kitchen.

“You're up early,” she said. “How was the party?”

He put his hands on her shoulders, looked down into her eyes, and grinned.
“Un-be-lievable.”

She stood patiently in his arm-length embrace. “I take it you had a good time.”

“The best ever. Wait till you hear.”

“Can you tell me while I make coffee?”

“I don't know if it can wait that long.”

“Goodness—this must really be something.” She eyed him for several seconds and then said, “You met a girl.”

“I met lots of them, but no one special.” He had no sooner finished the sentence than an image of Janice flashed through his mind.

“Well? I'm waiting.”

He dropped his arms and affected a casual air. “I don't know, I suppose it could wait until after you've had your coffee.”

“You rat.” She started toward the kitchen. “I've a good mind to take you up on that.”

He went after her. “I'm going to be in Tony's movie.”

When she turned to look at him she seemed more stunned than happy. “I don't know what to say.”

Her reaction confused him. “It's nothing big, just a crowd scene. I think Tony arranged it as a favor because he saw how much I liked being on the set.” When she didn't comment, he asked, “Is something wrong? I thought you'd be really excited for me.”

“You just surprised me.” She struggled to find a better answer. “I thought I knew everything about you, but never in a million years would I have guessed that you'd feel this way about being in a movie.”

“Me either,” he admitted.

“I think it's great.” She opened the refrigerator to get the coffee. “We'll have a party when the movie comes out and invite all your friends.”

He didn't know whether he was more disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm or her attempt to make up for it. No way would he have a party. He decided not to tell her the rest. If she didn't understand about the movie, she wouldn't understand about his decision to try out for the school play.

“How was the show?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I'm not sure. The subtitles were so long, it took forever to read them and I didn't get to see a lot of the movie.” She filled the pot with water and grounds and plugged it in. “We did have a good dinner, though. We went to an East Indian restaurant that Eric recommended. Beverly thought the shrimp had a little too much curry, but I . . .”

Chris stopped listening. His mind drifted to Janice and what she'd told him about her mother. He understood about her not wanting to tell anyone. Chris hadn't even told his best friend, Paul, about his college money being gone. The coach was checking into scholarships for him, and it looked as if some schools might come through with offers, but none of them were Chris's first choice. He loved wrestling, and thought he'd do okay at the college level, but he'd begun to have doubts about the dedication it would take.

“Chris?”

He looked up and realized his mother was talking to him. “What?”

“Do you have any other plans?”

He had no idea what she was talking about. Admitting he hadn't been listening, he asked, “Plans for what?”

“Tonight.”

She wasn't going to let him off that easily. “Okay, I give up. What are we talking about?”

“Eric dropped by last night and said his friend was coming sooner then he'd thought and if you weren't doing anything, you were invited for dessert around eight.”

“You know, I'm sure it would be all right if you came, too,” he said.

“Give it up, Chris. I told you I'm not interested in Eric Lawson, so would you please stop trying to get us together?” She stepped around him to get bowls down for cereal. “Besides, Beverly and I are going to a concert in Monterey tonight.”

“What's wrong with Eric?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why—”

“I told you, I'm not ready for a relationship.”

“Dad got married again. I don't see why you can't at least go out once in a while.”

“Sit down, Chris.” He did while she got them both a cup of coffee and then joined him at the table. “As hard as this may be for you to understand, I like being on my own. I went from living at home to living in a dorm in college to living with your father. This is the first time in my life that no one is setting rules for me or telling me what to do. Why would I want to give that up?”

“Don't you ever get lonely?”

“Sometimes. But then I think how high a price I would have to pay for company.” She added milk to her coffee and passed the carton to Chris. “I'm not saying I won't change my mind someday. As a matter of fact, I'm almost certain I will. But for now, I like things the way they are.”

“Have you looked around, Mom? You're getting old—older,” he corrected. “There aren't that many guys for you to pick from. What if the right one comes along while you're stuck in this freedom thing?”

“If it happens, it happens. There are worse things in life than living alone.” She picked up her mug and took a drink. “Like marrying the wrong man.”

“You mean Dad.”

She shook her head. “He was only wrong in the end. I'll never regret marrying your father, Chris. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have you.”

“You know, I'm going to be gone pretty soon, too.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“What do you mean?”

“The reason you're trying to fix me up. Are you worried what I'm going to do when you leave for school?”

“I've thought about it,” he acknowledged.

“Well, stop.” She reached across the table, took his hand, and gave it a squeeze. “I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'm actually looking forward to having the house all to myself.”

He didn't believe her but knew it was important that he at least pretend he did. “Is this your way of telling me you want me to move out sooner?”

She smiled. “I think I can put up with you for one more year.”

Chris put his arms over his head and stretched. “I'm going running before breakfast. You want to come?”

She considered his invitation. “I'll go down to the beach with you, but walking is more my speed this morning.” She topped off her coffee. “You never said what time you got in last night.”

“Late.”

“Hmmm . . . and you got up early this morning. You really are excited about this movie thing.”

“I'm going to change. I'll meet you outside.”

She picked up a magazine, glanced at the cover, and stretched lazily. “Too late. I've been distracted. I'll be out on the deck if you need me.”

He laughed. “Like I said, you're starting to get old, Mom. Next thing you know, you'll need a cane and then one of those walkers. And then who knows what's next?”

“I prefer to think I'm conserving energy.”

When Chris returned an hour later he walked in on the middle of a screaming match between Tracy and Beverly over who would take the car that afternoon. Janice was at the table, eating cereal.

“I don't see why you can't take Margaret's car.” Tracy slammed the puffed-rice box onto the table. “She doesn't need it. She never goes anywhere.”

Beverly dumped a packet of sugar substitute into her coffee. “I told you—”

“I'm using the Volvo this afternoon,” Chris said. “Janice and I are going to Big Sur.”

Janice brought her head up, gave him a sidelong glance, and silently mouthed, “Thank you.”

“Since when?” challenged Tracy.

“Since last night.” He met her hostile gaze without flinching, something he would have been incapable of doing even a day ago. “You're welcome to come along if you like.” The invitation rang with the same sincerity as telling the wrestler whose pin cost the team their match that it didn't matter.

“I have a date,” she said with an almost laughable superiority.

“Then I don't see the problem.” Chris used the bottom of his tank top to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Have him pick you up here.”

Tracy sent a quick look in her mother's direction. “I can't. He doesn't know where I live.”

“What time are you supposed to meet him? We could drop you off.” Chris smiled at Janice. “You wouldn't mind, would you?”

Janice flinched at being brought into the conversation. “No . . . that's fine with me.”

Tracy turned on Janice. “How could you do this to me?”

“That's enough,” Beverly said.

“You promised that if I came with you this summer, it would be different,” Tracy shouted at her mother, tears welling in her eyes. “You said I could do whatever I wanted, that this was my vacation, too.”

Beverly tried to put her arm around Tracy, but she backed away, refusing to be placated. “I want to go home,” she said. “Today. Right now.”

“Be reasonable, Tracy,” Beverly pleaded. “You know how much I look forward to this trip every year. It's the only time Margaret and I get to see each other anymore.”

“Why is it always what you want? What about me?”

Chris had witnessed a hundred arguments between Tracy and her mother and had automatically taken Tracy's side, choosing to believe it was her strong will and ability to stick up for herself that got under Beverly's skin.

Had he been blind or just plain stupid?

“I'm serious, Mother,” Tracy went on. “I want to go home.”

“What if I got you a car?” Beverly asked. “Would you change your mind?”

The tears disappeared with a blink. “My own car?” she asked suspiciously.

“We could look into what the difference would be if I turned in the Buick and rented a couple of compacts.”

Tracy's eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Will they let you do that—rent two cars at once?”