The Merchant of Venice Beach (28 page)

Suzanna didn’t remember exactly what had happened, but she would never forget the look in his eyes as he crashed into her and pushed her to safety.

Carla had been right.

If she knew anything, she knew Eric loved her.

PART FOUR

UPTOWN

CHAPTER 23

Suzanna stood in front of the antique full-length mirror in Erinn’s second-story bedroom. She examined the intricate lacework of her wedding dress. Until you really studied it, the pattern looked so simple, but when you looked closely, you could see all the exquisite detail—all the work and imagination—that had gone into it.

Sort of like life.

The bookcase had broken Eric’s leg in two places. Except for a lump on his head, that was the extent of the damages, for which everyone was grateful. Luckily, she and Carla were able to free him, and he dragged himself to a sitting position. They had all been through California earthquakes before and knew getting an ambulance would take some time, so they settled in the best they could. Suzanna stayed with Eric while Carla went into the tearoom kitchen and made some chamomile tea—on a butane stove they kept on hand for emergencies. Native Californians, they all knew not to turn on the stove after a natural disaster.

The epicenter had been just north of Santa Monica, in Malibu, the quake measuring 6. 0 on the Richter scale.

“Man, that was one major quake,” Fernando had said. He and Andy had come back to the Bun as quickly as they could maneuver through the chaos.

“A ‘major earthquake’ registers a seven on the Richter scale,” Erinn, who had also made her way to the shop with her cat, said. “A six is a ‘strong’ earthquake.”

“I stand corrected,” Fernando said gallantly.

Andy had pulled the wooden “The Rollicking Bun: Home of the Epic Scone” sign off the porch and used it for a stretcher. They managed to get Eric into the front of the store, and once Carla had come downstairs with tea and food, they decided to stay outside. The building had been through worse—although you couldn’t tell by looking at it—but just to play it safe, Carla and Andy wanted to thoroughly inspect the place.

Not a bad call, having an architect and carpenter on hand after something like this.

It was well into the morning hours when they were finally able to get Eric into an ambulance. As the two paramedics were setting up the gurney, Suzanna asked if she could go with him, but the ambulance driver said no; she would have to follow in her car.

Suzanna took Eric’s hand.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

He was sitting on the gurney, but asked the paramedics to give him a minute before they strapped him down. He kissed Suzanna’s hand and looked at her.

“Listen, Suzanna. I’m not that bad off, and it might be hours before they get to me. You should stay here.”

Suzanna was horrified. Had she read this wrong?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“But I want to be with you,” she said.

Was that so hard?

“I know,” he said, looking around at all the broken glass, shattered doors, and splintered wood that was strewn all over the street. “But it looks like nobody on the boardwalk has gas or electricity. We’ve got backup equipment and lots of food. We’ve got to help out.”

“You’re right,” Suzanna said. “I’ll do what I can.”

Eric pulled her closer.

“Suzanna, I know it’s taken me almost two decades, so I guess there isn’t any rush . . .”

One of the paramedics came over, but Eric asked him for just two more minutes.

“I wish I could do this right, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting down on one knee anytime soon . . . but, as signs from God go, this was pretty spectacular, wouldn’t you say?”

Suzanna nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid to break the spell. Afraid she might ruin everything.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

Suzanna tired to hold back her tears. When she knew that wasn’t going to work, she tried at least to let out a ladylike sniffle, but it was no use. She blubbered. There was no other word for it. And sobbed. And gagged. She did manage a nod. It was probably the most pathetic acceptance of all time, but she didn’t care.

The paramedics looked as if they were afraid they were going to have to cart the two of them away instead of just Eric, so they hurriedly laid him down, strapped him in, and drove off, Suzanna sniveling in their wake.

Erinn came up beside her and held out a tissue.

“You have mucus running from your nose.”

Suzanna took the tissue and honked. The blubbering continued.

“That was not pretty,” Erinn said, putting her arm around her sister. “But it was certainly beautiful.”

The Bun became the neighborhood headquarters in the next few weeks, as the boardwalk got itself back on its asphalt feet. Andy, Fernando, and Carla, who all had places to go, stayed instead and helped get the stores in working order. Suzanna wanted to insist they return the tearoom to its mountain laurel glory as a tribute to Fernando, but he would have none of it.

“I always hated mountain laurel,” he said. “The new design is my masterpiece. Go with it.”

“It’s actually my masterpiece, but whatever,” Carla groused.

Eric received his diploma (although he had them mail it—that leg wasn’t going to last through a graduation ceremony) and Suzanna held a small graduation party for him and Harri at the grand reopening of the Rollicking Bun. With state-of-the-art earthquake-proof bookcases for the nook.

Eric also very politely blew off the job offer in Napa. He and Suzanna were going to make a go of it as the newlywed owners of the Bun. Just like the building, they would be the same—but different.

Suzanna turned from the mirror and looked down into Erinn’s backyard, where the wedding was going to take place in less than an hour. Their mother Virginia was arranging flowers for centerpieces and ordering Fernando and Harri around. It certainly didn’t matter to her that she was in the midst of catering professionals. She was the mother of the bride, damn it, and attention must be paid. Suzanna tapped on the glass and her mother looked up. Suzanna motioned her to come upstairs. Virginia nodded, gave a few more marching orders to Harri and Fernando, and headed into the house. Fernando and Harri looked up at Suzanna and mouthed the words Thank you.

Virginia slipped into the room. Years of university life had steered Virginia away from the free-flowing, gauzy, shepherdess-style dresses she had favored when she was younger. But she still had a slim figure and she was showing it to advantage in a flowing slate gray pantsuit with a long duster jacket. She glowed at Suzanna.

“Honey, you look perfect.”

Suzanna looked at herself again in the mirror. She had to admit, she’d scrubbed up pretty well. The bedroom door squeaked open, and Erinn, face scrunched up behind her new video camera, came padding into the room.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Erinn said, circling them. “Don’t look at me! Just be natural.”

“Erinn, shut off the camera. Seriously!” Suzanna said.

“No! You’ll thank me later.”

“No, I won’t. Please shut off the camera.”

“Mother, don’t look at the camera, please. Look at Suzanna,” Erinn said, ignoring Suzanna.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Virginia said, her head at an unnatural angle, as if she were sitting for a tintype.

“Tell her she looks ethereal,” Erinn said, climbing up on the bed without removing the eyepiece from her face.

“I already told her she looks perfect.”

“Erinn, I mean it, put the camera down,” Suzanna said to obviously deaf ears. She raised her voice. “I’m the bride, damn it. You have to do what I say!”

Erinn, still standing on the bed, looked up, surprised. She shut off the camera.

“In case you’re interested,” Erinn said. “It’s ‘you have to do as I say.’”

“Was I that annoying when you were growing up?” Virginia asked Suzanna.

“No, Mom. It’s way more annoying having your grammar corrected by your sister than by your mother.”

“Thank God. One less thing to feel guilty about.”

Why is Mom feeling guilty?

Erinn sat down on the bed next to her mother and they both looked at Suzanna as if they had never seen her before.

“Well, come on, you guys, say something!” Suzanna said.

“I am so happy,” Virginia said, pulling a handkerchief out of her sleeve. “I wish your father could be here.”

“I wish he could, too,” Suzanna said, tilting her head back so her mascara wouldn’t run.

“He’d be so happy,” Virginia said. “He loved Eric.”

“I know.”

“We all love Eric.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” Suzanna could hear the resentment and pettiness creeping into her voice and decided to squash it.

“And you seem so happy.” Virginia got up and took Suzanna’s face in her hands. “And you are so very, very beautiful.”

Virginia kissed Suzanna’s forehead and put her arms around her. Suzanna rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Well, weddings will do that to you, I guess,” Erinn said. She was uncomfortable with displays of emotion.

“Beauty is not caused, it is,” Virginia said.

Virginia and Suzanna dissolved into tears. It was one of Martin Wolf’s favorite quotes, from a poem by Emily Dickinson.

“Oh, crap, that was great,” Erinn said, picking up her camera. “Let’s try that again . . .”

Suzanna and Virginia looked at Erinn, who was squinting at them from behind the giant lens like a Cyclops with a film degree.

“From ‘Beauty Be Not Caused . . . .’ . . . . and . . . . action!”

Suzanna and her mother looked at each other and burst out laughing. Erinn came out from behind the lens, confused for a moment, but then joined them in rollicking guffaws. The three women collapsed on the bed. When they were all laughed out, Virginia sat up, wiped her eyes, and said:

“I’m glad we have a minute to ourselves before things heat up. I want to tell you two something.”

Suzanna and Erinn exchanged an ageless sisterly this-doesn’t-sound-good glance and sat up, one on each side of their mother.

“I’m retiring,” Virginia said.

It took a moment to sink in. Suzanna really couldn’t picture their mother without the mantle of professorhood. But perhaps this was good news. In a few years there would be grandkids, and long trips up the coast to the see the barn would be wonderful.

“And I’m moving,” Virginia said. “To New York.”

Suzanna and Erinn gasped in shock.

“To New York?” Suzanna asked, hoping perhaps she had heard it wrong.

“Why?” Erinn asked.

“Well, girls,” Virginia said, “I’m lonely up there in Napa by myself.”

“Well, move here,” Suzanna said. “You can have Fernando’s room.”

“Thank you, sweetheart . . . . I’m lonely, but I’m not that lonely.”

Suzanna looked hurt and her mother kissed her on the top of the head the way she did when the girls were small.

“I mean . . . I’m not ready for that step just yet. I’ve watched so much change lately . . . with you girls . . . and your friends. You two are getting married, little Harri got her degree, Fernando is moving to Vashon Island. . . .” Virginia looked at Erinn, who was nakedly waiting to be included. “Erinn . . . got a new camera. It’s all been exhilarating to witness, but I have to admit, I don’t want to be left behind. I want to shake things up, too.”

I started this. My mother is moving three thousand miles away because of me. Does no good deed go unpunished?

“But I don’t want you to go,” Suzanna said in a small voice. “New York is too far.”

“It’s only a plane ride away,” Virginia said. “Don’t you remember, we always said that to Erinn when she’d call from New York?”

“Yes, I do remember,” Suzanna said. “You’d say it to her and then you’d hang up and cry for half an hour.”

They all laughed. Then they all cried. Then they laughed again. How could Suzanna begrudge her mother a new beginning?

And, besides, New York is only a plane ride away.

Carla knocked on the door. She walked into the middle of a crying jag.

“Wow, you guys, lighten up. You’re all swollen!” Carla said.

Carla and Virginia headed down to the backyard. Suzanna took pity on Erinn, who was awkward in the best of situations, and agreed to let her videotape her final preparations: lipstick, flowers in her hair, and perfume.

“Skip the perfume,” Erinn said. “It’s bad for the camera.”

Suzanna tried to act natural. Erinn hit the “stop” button.