Текст книги "The Girl of Sand & Fog"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

I look at Alan. My dad. Linda says he is, I can feel it inside me, and yet it still isn’t real, would never be real, until I know for certain and he acknowledges me.

As an afterthought I go back to my dad, prop his feet up on a stool and cover him with a throw blanket. Linda gives me an approving nod, clearly thinking she’s fixed everything, and quickly I slip through the door.

When I return to the pool house it’s even more full of pot smoke than when I left and that really pisses me off. I hate the pot. Bobby smokes it every night, though not until after we’ve had sex because I won’t fuck him if he is stoned.

His eyes are lazy and red when they fix on me and the silence has more to do with his ability to read my moods than how fucked up he is. I lift the joint from his fingers, take a hit, and then drop it into a half-finished beer. One hit is more than enough for me. It is dispensary quality—he got a script from a doctor downtown—and I can’t understand how he can smoke so much of it and still be coherent. Any more than one hit and I’m out for the night.

I pull off the t-shirt and climb into bed, spooning against him so he can hold me while I sleep. “How can you get so fucked up every night and still have a perfect GPA? You really need to stop that shit.”

He gently pulls my long black curls over my shoulder to tuck them behind me so they don’t cover his face. “What happened? You were gone a long time.”

“My dad is sleeping in your parents’ house.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Just stared. Ran into Linda, though. She wanted to have a talk with me. No big deal. Didn’t tell me to go home. It’s cool.”

Bobby eases up to look at my face. “Safe sex or guys are assholes. Which talk?”

I laugh. “I didn’t realize that Linda had two talks. I thought she only had one. The only talk she ever has with me is about my anger issues.”

“Oh, the anger issue talk. How did that go?”

“I’m less angry.”

“Really?”

“No. But I’m tired. I want to go to sleep. I can’t even see in this room through the smoke. Try opening a window once in a while. I don’t know how you’re awake.”

He lies back down behind me and pulls me more intimately up against him. “I waited for you.”

I lie in the smoke-filled room, listening to Bobby breathe. “Do you know where my dad’s house is in Malibu?”

Bobby leans up on an elbow and stares at me. “Of course.”

That causes anger to flash upward with all the other junk in me. I’m grateful for the anger. It helps me keep an ‘I don’t give a shit’ tone of voice.

“I want you to take me there tomorrow,” I command.

“OK.” Bobby settles back down on the pillow behind me.

I wait.

Nothing.

I look over my shoulder at him. “Aren’t you even going to ask me why I want to go to the Malibu house?”

“Don’t need to. You know better than I do what you need to do to work through this.”

CHAPTER 17

We head out shortly after dawn and go to Malibu.

Bobby pulls into a driveway, parks and turns off the engine. We sit there silently staring through the windshield.

An enormous concrete and glass structure hugs the beach behind a twelve foot wall. I’d often wondered if it was as large as I remembered or if my memory played tricks on me because I’d been a little girl when last here or if I even remembered it clearly. But it looks exactly the same, every detail, exactly what I see in time-frozen pictures in my head.

My pulse accelerates and my breathing grows shallow.

I lived here. For five years. Long ago. With my mom and dad. And then I was gone, what I thought was my family gone, and I don’t really know why it happened.

I push away the new memories that stir caused by seeing the house again. It’s too much to take, being here and having more flashing images. Having them be happy and clear and real. Not false memories, as I’ve often wondered, but true moments of my life.

“Are you all right?” Bobby asks.

I startle. For a moment I forgot he was in the car, the emotions crashing through me so powerful they blocked out all awareness of even his intense gaze studying me until he spoke.

I unbuckle my seat belt. “I want to go in.”

He shakes his head, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I’ll be fine. It’ll be fine,” I say, struggling to keep the emotion from my face. “I don’t think Alan’s here. No one will know. I just want to see inside.”

He opens his door and comes around the car to open mine. We hurry up the walkway only to be stopped by a heavy locked gate.

Bobby turns to me. “We’re going to have to ring, Kaley. We can’t get any farther than this. Maybe we should go.”

I debate pressing the call button on the intercom and then see the wall panel for security codes. I rush toward it and stare at the numbered keys. Shit, what would the code be? Something he’d remember. I punch in Alan’s birthday. No bueno. It’s state-of-the-art security. I can see cameras everywhere. They probably advised Alan against anything obvious. Maybe this isn’t going to be easy.

I start to punch again, frown, and then still my fingers above the panel. “How many times do you think I can get it wrong before the security company is notified?”

Bobby rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I don’t know. They might have already been called. Come on, Kaley. Let’s get out of here.”

“What do you think Alan would use as a code?”

“Who knows? And we can’t stand here all morning with you trying anything without someone seeing us.”

Crap, Bobby is right.

I step back from the panel.

I just want to go in.

The damn place looks unchanged, so exact in every detail to my memories. There’s got to be things inside, familiar things, that might explain some of my questions.

Fuck, I hope there is.

I feel like I’m home, like I’m eight and this is where I should be. Nothing has changed…

My eyes widen.

Oh no, it wouldn’t be that simple.

I punch in another code.

A loud buzz and the gate slowly opens on its own.

Bobby follows me into the atrium, frowning. “What did you do? How did you know the code?”

I lift my brows. “Not exactly rocket science, Bobby. My mom’s birthday. It was a long shot but logical.”

I cut through the large front patio crowded with potted plants, fire pits, fountains and stylish outdoor furniture, and stop at the tall, glass double doors to the main house. Code panel again. Perfect. I don’t need a key. I type in mom’s birthday. A click and the doors unlatch.

Bingo.

We’re in.

The foyer is pristine white and polished marble floors, the high-ceiling walls speckled with large canvases protected by glass from the sea air. There is not a single unfamiliar item anywhere. Ten years. Alan hasn’t changed so much as the art.

I falter at the edge of the giant living area overlooking the beach and Pacific Ocean. Black and white plush California-chic furnishings, natural wood tables, more floor-to-ceiling art, dark floors that look like stylized concrete, instruments everywhere, and framed pictures cluttering surfaces.

This room is exactly the same.

“It’s like this house has been sealed in Cryovac.”

Bobby shrugs, wandering around, pausing occasionally to study something. “He hasn’t lived here in ten years. Why would he change the house?”

“I don’t know. But it’s sort of creepy how not different it is.”

My eyes lock on the pictures crowding a side table and I sink to sit on my knees. I lift one up, turning to smile at Bobby. “This is my mom. God, she must have been only in her twenties here. Wasn’t she beautiful when she was young?”

Bobby looks and nods. “Your mom is still beautiful.” He drops a kiss on my curls. “Just like you.”

I set it back and study the others. “Why would all these pictures be here? It’s weird. It’s like a family photo arrangement, something Mom would do, only we’re not a family and never were.”

Bobby’s gaze sharpens on my face. “You were once. That’s what you should take away from seeing this. Whatever happened it didn’t happen because Alan didn’t love you. He wouldn’t still have pictures of you everywhere if he didn’t care about you.”

I sink my teeth into my lower lip to keep my emotions in check. Dazed, I move my gaze slowly around the room, and realize in disappointment that Bobby is wrong, there are no answers here, only more questions.

I turn and find him across the room, a guitar in hand, examining something. I spring to my feet and close the space between us, and then look at what’s captured his attention. An inexpertly drawn picture in permanent black marker near the bridge.

My eyes go wide. “Oh crap. I did that.”

I don’t know how I know it; I just do.

Bobby lets out a soft whistle. “Unbelievable. This is a fucking gorgeous instrument. Worth a fortune. I can’t even imagine how pissed Alan was to find that. I bet you got into a heap of trouble.”

My eyes narrow on the drawing.

Oh fuck, I remember it clearly.

I make a face and work to sound casual about this. “A lot you know. I showed it to him when I finished it. I was very proud. All he did was kiss me on the forehead and say, ‘Thank you. That’s a lovely picture. Go tell your mum what you did.’ Which I didn’t because Mom would have blown.”

Bobby beats back a smile. “Sneaky even back then.”

I lift my face toward Bobby with what I can feel is a gigantic smile. “No, smart. Alan never got mad about anything. And he never tattled on me either. When I was bad he’d tell me to tell my mom and I wouldn’t do it and he’d still not get mad.”

I start laughing. Bobby’s eyes twinkle as he sets down the guitar and then, before I know how it happens, I’m crying.

Bobby quickly folds me into his arms. “Shush, Kaley. Don’t do this to yourself.”

I nuzzle into his chest. “I didn’t expect it to feel this way being here. It doesn’t feel awful. It feels good. And I don’t understand. I thought—”

Tears trap my words inside me.

Bobby’s mouth moves through my hair in light, comforting kisses. “You thought what?”

I take a moment to let myself calm.

“I always assumed that whatever happened between my mom and Alan, I made myself forget. That it had to be awful for everything to change in our life so quickly, too awful for me to remember. But my memories are good. Nothing terrible happened in this house. We were happy together here. Somehow it makes it harder, all the unanswered questions and that one day I had two parents loving me and then I didn’t.”

With his thumbs Bobby brushes at the dampness on my cheeks. “You shouldn’t be sad that your memories are good. What happened in your parents’ past has nothing to do with you. That you don’t know the unpleasant parts of their history is a clear indication how much they both love you, Kaley.”

I sniffle and nod.

He’s right; I just can’t change how it makes me feel.

I slowly breathe in and out to steady myself.

“When I was really little, I used to call Alan ‘Daddy.’ I didn’t remember that until today either. Standing here I can see us together, like watching a film. All the frames three-sixty perspective. He’d carry me, I was like three, and I’d slap his face saying, ‘Daddy. Daddy. Don’t want to leave the beach. Want to play.’ And my mom would flush and get nervous and try to take me from him, so I’d say it more and Alan would just smile and whisper in my ear, ‘No, love, we’re just good friends.’”

I bury my nose into Bobby’s chest and cry harder.

He soothingly strokes my back. “It’s OK, Kaley. Let it out. You love your dad, even though you pretend you don’t, but more importantly, you know he loves you and always has.”

I lift my stricken eyes to him. “Then why is everything so fucked up? Why won’t he admit he’s my dad?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Sometimes it’s better not to know everything. Have you considered that?”

A sound makes us pull apart and turn.

“I’ve called the security company. You better get out of here fast,” says a girl from the front hall.

A young woman—college age, dressed in boy shorts and a too revealingly thin cotton tank top. Long black hair tousled like she just climbed from bed. Deep olive skin. Soulful brown eyes. Exotic. Built. Holding an aluminum bat for protection—lame, but original.

“Who are you?” I ask in a deliberately condescending way.

She tenses, stepping back and lifting her weapon higher. “I’m the housekeeper.”

I give her a rude stare from head to toe. “Housekeeper, huh? Is that what they call girls like you these days?”

Her face turns scarlet, but Bobby chides me with a stern look. And, damn, he’s right. Provoking her is not a good move, but seeing that Alan has a hottie tucked away at the beach instantly stirred my protective instincts for Mom.

“The cops are on their way,” she warns. “If either of you so much as makes one step toward me I’ll bash you on the head. Don’t think I don’t know how to use this.”

I roll my eyes—ridiculous.

Bobby moves slowly forward.

She pivots toward him.

“I’m Bobby Rowan. My dad is Len Rowan. Do you know who that is?”

She nods.

“Then put down the bat,” Bobby adds. “We didn’t take anything and we’re leaving.”

She looks unsure.

Her gaze shifts back to me.

“We didn’t mean to scare you,” I say quickly. “We thought the house was vacant. That’s why we didn’t knock and used the codes to get in. I have the entry codes. That should tell you this is OK. And if I were you, I wouldn’t tell Alan any of this. Do you think he’d be happy to know you threatened to hit me with a bat today? If you really are the housekeeper, if you really need your job, you should just let us go and not say anything.”

She studies me, nervously gnawing her lip. Then her eyes widen; ah, now she sees the resemblance. The bat lowers to the floor.

“I’m not supposed to let anyone into the house,” she mutters anxiously. “And no one told me he had a daughter.”

Fuck, even the housekeeper can see it, and I’ve known her all of a half second.

Everything in me starts to twirl.

I shrug.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell.” And then I grab Bobby’s hand and hurry toward the door.

*  *  *

We’re quiet on the drive back to Pacific Palisades.

I tell myself not to, but I can’t stop it. For the last half hour I’ve done nothing but Google my dad. Just the same shit as last night and, oh, I should definitely knock it off because I can feel Bobby alertly watching me.

So stupid to be doing this. Like the housekeeper is going to get on the Internet and post something about the big drama of her morning. Nope, not if she’s going to get into trouble for us being there. She’s not going to post anything, ever.

Bobby hits the signal and turns onto the street to his house. “What do you want to do now? Knock over a 7-11? Or can we have breakfast first?”

Laughing, I lean in to him, letting my head fall on his shoulders. “Breakfast first. I’m hungry.”

His eyes grow serious. “We shouldn’t be joking around about this. What we did today wasn’t cool and I shouldn’t have taken you there. What if the cops had come? Have you thought about that? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since we left Alan’s.”

I exhale loudly, shaking my head. “But they didn’t come. There’s no reason to get all freaked out now.”

“That nothing bad happened doesn’t mean you should keep on doing everything you think you’re justified to do. How far are you willing to take this? Until you hurt the people you love? Or until you hurt you? Do you even know what it is you want? Is it the truth? Your dad in your life? Or maybe, just maybe, deep down inside in a way you don’t want to admit, what you really want is to hurt them all the way they’ve hurt you. I’m not sure anymore and that scares me.”

What I hear in his voice turns my insides cold. Crap, he is really worried for me.

“Jeez, Bobby. A little perspective here would be nice. We went into a house. My dad’s house. It’s not like we committed armed robbery.”

He parks in his driveway and angles his body in the seat to face me. “I love you, Kaley. Don’t make me watch you take this obsession so far that you hurt everyone you love, including you.”

My cheeks grow hot. “It’s not a fucking obsession to want to know the truth about who your parents are.”

“No,” he replies unruffled. “The obsession is how you’re doing it. Cyberstalking 24/7—do you think I don’t know what you are always doing on your phone?—and it has now progressed to breaking and entering. Excuse me for being concerned and thinking maybe we should hit the pause button here.”

He opens his door and starts to climb out.

I follow him to the pool house and the silence between us is heavy and awful. He goes to the fridge and pulls out an orange juice.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask.

He doesn’t look at me. He remains crouched there, back toward me, shaking the bottle and shaking his head. “Is that what you think or do you just say shit like that to hurt me?” he says after an excruciatingly long moment of silence.

“That’s a no-win question. It’s not fair. Neither answer is true.”

He turns and probes me with his gaze. “Then what is fair?”

“That I love you,” I whisper. “And that I’m sorry. Hurting you is the last thing that I would ever want to do.”

We square off with our eyes.

“Then don’t.”

I nod.

He takes me into his arms. “I love you, Kaley. I’m here for you. Let me be. And let me be the guy I want to be for you.”

I fan his face with my fingers and lean in until our foreheads are touching. “You already are.”

His gaze softens and the grim line of his mouth relaxes. “Remember that, Kaley. I’ll be the guy you need me to be even during the times you don’t want me to.”

 

 

CHAPTER 18

I sit on the bed and watch Bobby pack.

“I can’t believe you’re going without me.”

He shoves a shirt into his bag. “Yep, I am. And you should, too, instead of sitting around letting your parents’ shit drive you crazy.”

My mouth scrunches as I shake my head. “I can’t leave my mom. Not until I know everything is going to be all right. She’s really sad. It’s been two days since she told Alan about Khloe. He hasn’t showed and hasn’t called. My mom is a mess.”

He nods, his chin jutting out in that way that tells me he’s struggling not to get pissed at me. “The best thing you can do is stay out of it. It’s not about you, Kaley. It’s about them. Us being together, that’s about you. Maybe that’s what you should focus on.”

My cheeks flush. “We are my focus.”

“Then why aren’t you going to Tahoe?”

“I can’t. Zoe can’t either. Not all of us have oh so progressive parents. There was no point in asking. Chrissie would have said no. She’s like navigating a minefield these days. Something’s wrong. Really wrong. I can feel it.”

“The best thing you can do for everyone is stay out of it and go to Tahoe with me. You can’t fix your parents’ shit and if something bad is going to happen, you can’t prevent it. And I’d really appreciate a little honesty here. You didn’t even try to get permission to go. I know you didn’t ask Chrissie.”

Groaning, I flop back on the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you there was no point? She would have just said no. And then she’d be all suspicious about everything I ask if I can do forever. It’s better for us both if I don’t ask about Tahoe and snowboarding.”

He zips closed his bag. “So what are you going to do for two weeks without me?”

I make a face. “Hang with Zoe.” I turn onto my side, lifting a brow. “What are you going to do for two weeks without me? Run to Caroline’s rescue every time she has an emergency on the slopes?”

He clenches his jaw. “Stop it, Kaley.”

Fine, it was a shitty joke.

I need to let up on poking at him over her.

I stare up at him, eyes wide. “Are you going to miss me?”

He sinks down on the bed, letting out a ragged sigh. “You know I am.”

“Then why don’t you stay?”

He kisses me. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go?”

Back to square one.

No point in telling him again that I can’t.

His phone beeps. He fishes it from his pocket and reads a text. “Jake’s here.”

Bobby starts gathering up his shit. Fuck, I don’t want him to go, but he’s going to go and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I don’t know why he’s being so stubborn about this. He should want to stay with me.

We walk to the driveway and Bobby tosses his junk into the back of Jake’s Explorer.

He drapes his arms over my shoulders, kissing me long before he climbs into the passenger seat.

My fingers curl around his open window. “Text me every night and every morning.”

He brushes my cheek with a thumb. “I’ll be texting you more than that and you know it. I hope you change your mind and fly up. It’s not going to be any fun without you.”

I pout. “I can’t.”

He nods.

Jake leans forward around Bobby. “See ya, Kaley. Keep Zoe out of trouble for me.”

I laugh and step back from the vehicle. The ignition turns over and they start driving down the road. Fuck, I can’t believe Bobby really went without me.

I climb into my car, text Zoe to see if she wants to meet up later, and then head for home. I pull into my driveway and my stomach does a flip.

Alan’s back.

Black Mercedes parked by the garage, blocking me so I can’t get in.

My fingers curl around the steering wheel and I stare at his car, anxious but now depressed. Fuck, I should have gone to Tahoe instead of sticking around for my mom. Jeez, I wish my mom would talk to me about things so I’d know what’s going on instead of always trying to read the vibe she’s putting out. But no. That would be too simple. And crap, I could have gone—Bobby was right—because everything is hunky-dory in Chrissie’s world and I shouldn’t have doubted for a moment it would be.

Chrissie gets everything she wants, always.

I climb from the car and cut through the backyard, entering the house through the patio doors. Krystal is on the family room floor clad in her pink tights doing her post-ballet stretches. Ethan and Eric are playing video games. I don’t see mom or Alan and it’s quiet.

Oh yuck, I hope that doesn’t mean they’re—

“Hello.”

I whirl and my heart stops.

What the fuck is she doing here? I stare in disbelief as the little college girl from Alan’s house drops a laundry basket with a loud thump on the kitchen island.

“Where’s my mom?” I ask.

The girl brushes her hair back from her face and tucks the loose strands into her ponytail. “In the studio working. She asked not to be disturbed.” She gives me a pointed smile. “You’re Kaley, right? I just started working here today. I’m Aarsi.”

Oh fuck, what the hell is going on here?

Leave for two hours and shit goes down.

I watch her fold and fluff, neatly stacking Khloe’s little duds into organized piles.

“Yep, I’m Kaley.”

She nods. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” And then her gaze locks on mine in an intense, meaning-filled stare before she scoops up the finished laundry and sets it in the basket.

OK, she didn’t bust me and for some reason she doesn’t want me saying anything either. That’s a win. I can work with that.

I watch her leave. The second she’s gone from the room I drop down on the floor beside Krystal.

“What’s going on?”

Krystal slowly rolls her upper body back and gracefully straightens. She lets out a slow breath. “What’s going on about what?”

“What is Aarsi doing here?”

Her brows crinkle. “She’s the new nanny. Showed up this morning—pouf, like Mary Poppins out of nowhere. I didn’t even know Mom was hiring a nanny.”

Oh fuck. Mom didn’t.

Krystal’s gaze sharpens. “Why are you so freaked out about it?”

Crap, what did I let slip onto my face?

“I’m not.”

“Good. Mom seems happy. And Aarsi is kind of fun. Are you going to the beach with us? Mom wants her to take all of us, except Khloe, to the beach and then Grandma’s for the night.”

Chrissie is shipping us off overnight.

I search the house again.

“Is Alan here?”

Krystal shakes her head.

I spring to my feet and make my way down the hallway toward the studio. Mom asked not to be interrupted, but I open the door anyway. No one at the soundboard. Chrissie is alone behind the glass seated at the piano, chewing on a pencil and staring at the sheets lying in front of her.

I pause for a moment, watching her. She’s writing music again. When did that start? And Krystal’s right. She looks happy. Happy enough that she might even let me go to Tahoe if I ask.

I go through the soundproof door and cross to the far side of the room. I drop down on the couch and sigh.

Chrissie looks up. “Well, that was dramatic, baby girl. What’s wrong?”

I comb the hair from my face with my fingers. “Bobby left for Tahoe today. He’ll be gone two weeks.”

She sets down her pencil, lays her arms on the piano, and studies me. “Why Tahoe?”

“Snowboarding with his friends.”

My mom’s brows hitch up—oh fuck, I shouldn’t have said that—and then she smiles. “Snowboarding again. A lot of that going around lately.”

I tense. I was delusional to think even for a moment that asking her to go would be a good thing. And why does it feel like my mom knows about Thanksgiving, and if she’s going to bust me, why can’t she just do it?

She grabs the pencil and starts tapping it on the wood. “Why didn’t you ask to go?”

I lift a brow. “You would have said no.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you don’t know because you didn’t ask. In fact, you’ve pretty much stopped talking to me about everything.”

I flush. “That’s not true. I’m talking to you now.”

Chrissie drops her gaze first. She focuses on rearranging her papers. “You can go to Tahoe if you want to. That is why you’re talking to me today. You want to go snowboarding with Bobby.”

I flush. “What? I didn’t even ask if I could go.”

Chrissie lifts her chin. “You’re just trying to work up to it. Trying to decide whether to be honest or tell me a fib. I’d rather we talked honestly about the things you do so I know where you are than have you sneaking around lying to me.”

Oh fuck. She does know.

It was a mistake to come in here.

I go to the piano and settle on the bench beside her. “I’m not sneaking around. I’m not doing anything. I don’t want to go Tahoe.”

“Well, I want you to know you can if you want to.”

“I don’t!”

Crap, this is stupid.

How does she make me feel like I’ve been doing something wrong when I’m not doing anything she wasn’t doing at my age?

I stand. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Zoe. We’re going to the movies. Is it all right if I stay over at her house tonight?”

Chrissie’s gaze changes, doe-eyed hurt and worried. “It’s all right to stay the night. Just text me later if you decide to. And try to remember, you can talk to me any time you want to, baby girl.”

She makes one of her comical faces.

Oh crap, I’ve got to get out of here fast.

Comical face always precedes serious shit about to tumble out of her.

I roll my eyes. “You are so funny, Mom, I forgot to laugh. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I’m almost to the studio door.

“There’s a full box on condoms in my nightstand drawer, Kaley. You don’t have to ask. Just take some if it’s something you need.”

I freeze with my hand on the knob.

Fuck, I can’t just walk out on that one, not when she worked so hard to get it out. I turn back to face her. She’s just sitting there, all concerned and junk, nervously staring at the piano and rubbing her index finger on the middle-C key.

Chrissie can’t even look at me.

Her cheeks are cute-cute pink.

Inwardly, I groan.

“That is definitely too much information, Mom. And I so don’t want to know why you have them.”

Her face shoots up and her bright blue eyes lock on me. “I’m sorry. I know that was awkwardly put…and not a very good way of easing into…what I mean to say is, you and Bobby—”

Oh fuck, she’s rambling, and you have got to be kidding me, Chrissie. Really, now? When I’m almost eighteen?

I go back to the piano and kiss her on the head. “No, Mom. It was fine. You’ve said all you need to say. But no sex talk. No safe sex talk. No you-should-wait-for-sex talk. No sex talk of any kind. Can’t do it. Nope. We’re good with the location of the family condoms. I’m out of here.”

*  *  *

Zoe can’t stop laughing. “Family condoms.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling. “You should have seen my mom’s face. I felt so bad for her. She really did try.”

“It’s so ridiculous.” Zoe’s gaze starts to sparkle. “I think you should have stayed for the sex talk. I mean, think of who your mom’s been banging for the last twenty years. I bet she’s a wealth of knowledge. An untapped resource. Definitely better than Yotti.”

I shudder. “Gross, don’t say things like that about my mother. I don’t know how you and Yotti just talk about everything like it’s normal that you do.”

“Ah—because it is.”

“Well, it isn’t in our family. And it would have been awful. Chrissie could hardly say the word condom.”

“Probably because they’re a new invention in Chrissie’s universe. Maybe now that she’s discovered them, she’ll stop having kids.”

Zoe busts out laughing again.

I glare at her. “That was mean.”

Zoe pouts. “Don’t be pissed, Kaley. I’m just kidding.”

I struggle to hold it in, but laughter bubbles upward anyway. Zoe smiles.

“What do you want to do now?” she asks.

I shrug. “It’s really pathetic how hard it is to figure out what to do when the guys are gone.”

Zoe’s eyes light up. “We could go clubbing. Jake hates to dance. Probably because he sucks at it.”

I crinkle my nose. “Clubbing? I don’t know. It just wouldn’t seem right without Bobby.”

She groans. “You’re not married. You can go clubbing. Jake doesn’t care if I go without him.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yep.” Then she makes a face. “It means he doesn’t have to go and he’s cool with that.”

“I’ll have to stop at my house to get different clothes. All I have is jeans and shorts at your place.”

I turn off Highway 1 and start making my way through the surface streets of our neighborhood.

“Was Bobby stoked when you told him you could go to Tahoe?”

“Yep, pretty darn happy boy. I’m flying out tomorrow. I still can’t believe that when I called Chrissie to discuss flight details she was still cool with everything.”

Zoe pouts. “I wish I could go.”

I lift a brow. “Are you ever going to tell me what got you put on restrictions with the coolest parents ever, Ian and Yotti?”

She crinkles her nose. “Jake stayed over by accident. He didn’t mean to. He fell asleep and my dad saw him in the morning nude and in my bathroom.”

“Oh shit.”

“Exactly. I can’t go anywhere with anyone but you, Kaley, for the entire winter break.”

I glance at her. “Do you want me to stay and not go to Tahoe?”