Life's a Beach (14 page)

“Got it,” I said, though I wasn’t quite sure I did. “Hey, Mom, do you think there’s a patron saint of disappearing statues?”

“God only knows,” my mother said. “Come on, your father was sound asleep when I left. Let’s go give St. Joseph a quick burial.”

15

“PSST,” MY FATHER SAID BEHIND ME.

“Hi, Dad,” I said without turning around. I had every bit of clothing I owned spread out on my pulled-out sofa, and I was trying to figure out what could be packed right away and what should probably be washed first.

“Just tell me, what was the old bat doing over here last night?”

“Just tell me you didn’t bring another garbage bag with you, okay, Dad?”

“Better than that, Dollface, better than that.”

I wasn’t sure if I turned and then heard the meows, or if I turned because I heard the meows. My father pushed Boyfriend’s pet carrier on wheels all the way into the room. Even I had to admit it definitely looked like a stroller right now. My father was grinning from ear to ear.

I leaned over. Two tiny kittens, one mostly black and one mostly white, were curled up on a pink blanket under the green mesh. The white one opened its mouth, and the sound it made was actually more like a mew than a full-blown meow. “Awhh,” I said. “Where did you get them?”

“The Take It or Leave It,” he said. “No way that mother of yours would put two defenseless kittens out on the street. Champ and I will take care of them while you’re gone, and when you get back, you can help us out.”

“You brought cats home from the dump, Dad? What if Boyfriend catches something from them?”

My father pressed on the handle and started bouncing the stroller up and down. “Don’t be ridiculous, Toots. I got them from a very respectable lady who had them in a fancy wicker basket. They’ve had their first shots and all the rest of that rigmarole. Good thing, it’s highway robbery what those vets charge these days.”

Boyfriend was eyeing the carriage and circling it with the long careful steps of a leopard hunting its prey. “Dad, I think one cat might be enough.”

My father leaned over to pick up Boyfriend, who sprang across the room like he’d been shot at. “Oh, they’ll be thick as thieves before you know it,” my father said. “Come on, now, spill the beans about last night and then we’ll go buy some kitten chow.”

“It was just girl talk, Dad. No cloak-and-dagger stuff at all.”

“You’re not pulling my leg now, are you, Toots?”

“Cross my heart,” I said.

I was trying to stay away from them, but I couldn’t help myself. I unzipped the zipper that ran down the center of the netting, and reached in and took out the black kitten, and then the white one, and I cuddled them both to my chest. They were so tiny. We’d had kittens growing up, but Boyfriend had been a full-grown shelter cat when I adopted him, so it had been a long time since I’d smelled that kitten smell.

Eventually I zipped them back in their stroller. “I am so out of this, Dad. When Mom finds out, just tell her you got them after I left, okay?”

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON
by the time I made it over to Geri’s house. When I walked into her kitchen, she put her BlackBerry down in a ceramic bowl on her granite kitchen island, where it nestled in right next to Seth’s. I nodded at them. “Life is but a bowl of BlackBerrys,” I said.

She ignored me and picked up her phone and pressed some buttons.

I opened the refrigerator and had to settle for an apple. My sister needed to shop more often. I held it up. “Is this washed?” I asked.

“Shh,” Geri said. She pushed a button on the phone. “Ohmigod, will you listen to this.”

She handed me the phone, so I did. “I don’t know if you’re involved in casting for the movie,” a woman’s voice said. “But this is Laura Meeker and my son is on Riley’s soccer team and I understand there are roles for school-age children. My son is a redhead and would look great with Brad Pitt. Even though Brad Pitt isn’t a redhead, but you could dye it. My son, not Brad, of course. Is Brad Pitt really in the movie? That’s what I heard. Anyway, I know it’s a little forward of me to ask, but I thought it was worth a try. I can send you a head shot if you’d like. Again, this is Laura Meeker and my son usually plays defense and his name is Josh and he and Riley are very compatible. We’re at 781-555-5335.”

“Wow,” I said as I handed the phone back to Geri and took a bite of my possibly unwashed apple. “Are you going to call her back?”

Geri shook her head. “No way. She didn’t even invite Riley to Josh’s last birthday party. And it’s not like she didn’t invite half the soccer team.” Geri put the phone back and opened the refrigerator and got herself a piece of string cheese. “I hate this stuff,” she said as she chewed. “Anyway, I think that’s call number seven or eight. My favorite was from one of Mom’s friends who offered me money to dump you and hire her.”

“And you didn’t take it?”

“It wasn’t that much money.” Geri was back sitting at the counter and making a list on a legal pad.

“Hey,” I said. “You didn’t happen to hear that I slept with someone to get Riley his part, did you?”

Rachel came into the room and opened the refrigerator. “Oh, that’s so old news,” she said. “So, have you and Noah said good-bye yet?”

“Possibly,” I said.

Geri opened her eyes wide. “Did he break up with you?”

I opened my eyes wider. “What makes you think he’d be the one to break up with me?”

“Listen,” Geri said. “I can FedEx you anything Riley forgets, and Riley’s teacher will fax his last bit of homework for the year to the hotel and you can bring it in to the set teacher. Call me every day when you get up. Riley has a cell phone so he can call me, too.”

“Riley has a cell phone? I barely have a cell phone.”

“Of course he has a cell phone. All kids have cell phones. They’re like umbilical cords. When the girls go to sleepovers, Seth and I make them send us periodic photos so we know they haven’t tiptoed out of the house while the parents weren’t paying attention.”

“The way you and I used to in high school?”

Apparently Geri wasn’t in the mood to reminisce. She wrote a few more words on her list, then put her pen down and looked up. “Okay, what happened with Noah?”

I took a bite of my apple and chewed it slowly. “We had a fight.”

“And . . .”

“And I’m not even sure if he knows I’m leaving. Although, come to think of it, Allison Flagg probably told him when she told him I was sleeping around. And that I wanted to have kids.” This was the downside of living in a small town like Marshbury, where everybody knew everybody else. If you weren’t paranoid when you moved in, it didn’t take long.

Geri peeled off a long string of cheese and popped it into her mouth. “So, call him.”

“Why should I have to be the one who calls?”

“Because you’re the one leaving for Hollywood in the morning?”

GERI HAD PICKED ME UP
at my apartment and brought me to her house, so she could go over things with me one more time. It was the Monday of Memorial Day weekend, and Seth was going to drop us off at the Harbor Express, because he was heading into work for a few hours. The Harbor Express was a water ferry and the most civilized way to get from Marshbury to Logan Airport these days, because the Big Dig had turned Boston into a big tunnel repair nightmare.

Of course, talking to Seth on the way to the ferry wasn’t going to be a picnic either. My sister seemed to be perfectly content in her marriage, but he bored me to tears. I didn’t even like the way he parted his hair. One straight line, just like the rest of him.

Geri was planning to do something special with the girls today, who were still not happy about Riley going to Hollywood without them. And we all agreed that the last thing Riley needed was a high-drama family send-off at the airport. “So, well, thanks a lot, Seth,” I said as Seth finally pulled into the Harbor Express parking lot.

He flipped the trunk switch and jumped out to get our suitcases. “Not a problem,” he said. “Take good care of Riley for us.”

“Will do,” I said. We both leaned forward and gave each other a fake little hug.

Seth and Riley gave each other a real hug. “Be careful out there,” Seth said. “Don’t take any wooden five-dollar bills, okay?”

Riley’s eyes were scrunched closed. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, kiddo.”

We sat in the front seat of the ferry so we could check out the Boston Harbor Islands we passed. Riley knew the names of all of them. He pointed. “That’s Bumkin, way over there,” he said. “And that’s Peddock’s. And there’s Sheep.”

I pointed. “And there’s Hippopotamus.”

Riley’s laugh wasn’t up to his usual standards. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Riley said, but he didn’t look so sure. He was wearing long pants and a button-down shirt, which somehow made him look smaller. His freckles really stood out today against his paler-than-usual skin, and his hair had separated into stiff sections from an overly generous application of gel.

I was actually feeling just the tiniest bit nervous myself. I opened the big envelope Geri had given me, and pulled out two ticket folders clipped together along with a receipt from the travel agent. I gasped. “Riley, do you have any idea how much these tickets cost? Three thousand eight hundred and sixty-eight dollars. And seventy-one cents. Each.”

“Is that a lot, Aunt Ginger?”

“Put it this way, I didn’t even know tickets
could
cost that much.”

Good thing we were early, because I had to think this through. It wasn’t that I was cheap, but I was holding almost eight thousand dollars in my hot little hands. I could bank some of it, so I’d have the security deposit and the first month’s rent on a new apartment. I could even trade in my Jetta and put some of the money toward a less used car. Of course, I wasn’t the kind of person who would ever take advantage of my nephew.

“Riley, I’m thinking maybe you and I should buy a car together. I’ll drive it until you’re old enough. You’re eight, right?” It sounded weak even to me. “I’ll drive you and your friends anywhere you want to go,” I added to sweeten the deal.

Riley wrinkled his nose and scrunched his eyes. “Does this mean we’re not going to Hollywood?”

No, even I could see this wasn’t really fair. Riley could bank his half for college and I’d forget about the car. Although maybe I could still get the door fixed on my Jetta. “Don’t worry, we’re going, honey. I’m just going to try to make us each a few bucks on these tickets.”

“YOU WANT TO BE
downgraded
?” the man behind the check-in counter asked.

I smiled my most encouraging smile. “Well, yes, I think so, but I just want to be sure I can get the difference.” I opened my eyes wide and tried to look pleading but not desperate. “Cash would be great,” I added.

“Excuse me?” he said in kind of a snippy tone. He slid one of the tickets out of its envelope with his thumb and forefinger, as if he didn’t want to smudge any incriminating fingerprints.

I had this horrible feeling he was about to call security, so I backpedaled a little. “But, really, a check would be just fine. Thanks so much for anything you can do. Sir.”

He gave me a look that said he was all-powerful and I was a mere ant in the picnic of life. “Listen, hon, we change these tickets and the best that can happen is the travel agency gets a refund check. I’m not even sure about that.”

He slid the ticket back into its envelope and flicked his wrist to hold it out to me. “Take the first class, hon,” he said. “It might be your only chance.”

Riley and I found our way to the security checkpoint line, which seemed to stretch back for miles. As we waited, people sighed and looked at their watches and talked about how ridiculous this was and how there had to be a more efficient way to do that. We inched forward for maybe ten minutes or so, and I began to notice occasional people walking by us as if the line didn’t apply to them. “Save my place,” I said to Riley the next time one of them went by.

I followed a man in a suit until I saw a sign on a waist-high metal pole that said
FIRST CLASS
and
BUSINESS CLASS
. The man strolled past the pole as if he owned the place, and I practically ran back to Riley.

I grabbed my carry-on. “Follow me,” I said to Riley.

Riley and I wheeled our suitcases right past all those poor suckers. “I don’t think you’re allowed to take front cuts,” Riley said.

“You get what you pay for,” I said.

We were through security before we knew it, and we sat in plastic chairs and watched the television sets next to our gate until we heard a voice say, “Boarding flight two-sixty-four. First-class passengers only.”

Riley and I waltzed past the pilot and the smiling flight attendants to seats 3A and 3C. I reached up to put our bags in the roomy overhead bins and noticed the seats next to us were 3D and F. Seats 3B and E apparently did not exist, which meant that two entire people had been done away with to make room for our navy blue leather recliners.

“Score,” Riley said beside me as he reached around in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him. “We don’t have to pay for the headphones.”