Текст книги "The Girl Of Tokens and Tears"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“So, do you want to go kick around or something?” Neil says finally, after a long while. “Just hang out? Do some of those SB things? I just really need to get away from the family thing for a while.”

I make a face at the receiver. Hang out? SB things? Is Neil Stanton finally asking me out on a date? I can’t really tell for sure. Or is this just more of our buddy stuff from Berkeley?

I shrug and wonder why it even matters. It’s not like I’ve anything else do to. “OK. I’m up for kicking around. What time are you picking me up?”

“Picking you up?” Neil repeats. More silence. “I don’t have a car here. I flew down. You’re going to have to pick me up, Chrissie.”

“Ah, so what you really want is transportation,” I tease.

“If that’s what you think, don’t bother,” Neil replies, a harsh edge to his voice. “You’re a very difficult girl to be friends with. Do you know that?”

Coldness crawls across the surface of my face, and then heats rapidly. Jeez, why so touchy? I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Where do you live?”

A long pause. “The lower eastside, one block over from Milpas Street.”

I frown. Neil says that like I should know where it is. “How do I get there?”

“My house or Milpas Street?”

I scrunch up my nose. “Both.”

“What kind of homegirl are you? Go south on the 101 and there’s Milpas Street. You want to go left, not right toward the beach. Left toward the eastside.”

Well, that sounds simple enough. I grab a pen and a piece of paper. “What’s the address?” I write it down and repeat it to Neil since I’ve never heard of the street before. “Is that right?”

“Perfect. Now, when you get here, just pull into the driveway and honk the horn. That’s what Josh does. It makes everything easier.”

I don’t like the sound of that. “What? You embarrassed to have your family meet me?”

“No,” he replies with irritation. “I don’t want to be trapped here for another hour while everyone insists on meeting you.”

I laugh. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I don’t bring girls home, OK? Like seriously. You’ll be the first one.”

I frown. That’s odd. Neil is a really good looking guy. He must have had tons of girlfriends in high school.

“Didn’t your parents ever want to meet your girlfriends?”

A loud exhale of breath. “Yes. And I should point out, you’re not my girlfriend.” Another long pause. “Fine. Walk to the door. Find out for yourself. When can you get here?”

“When do you want me?” I blush. That didn’t come out right.

“About eight hours ago,” he says with humorous desperation.

I smile. “Give me thirty minutes.”

“You may be saving my life, Chrissie.”

I hang up the phone. OK, a date that is not a date, hanging out and doing something Neil calls SB things. What do I wear? I pull from my drawers a pair of jeans and a black tank top, from the closet I grab my Converse and a pink sweater to tie around my waist. It’s warm now, but the weather could change in an hour and I don’t know where we’re going.

After I dress, I go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and put on a touch of mascara and some lip gloss. I brush out my hair, puff it with my fingers, and give it a light spray.

In the driveway, I find my car blocked in by Jack’s. I go back into the house and down the hallway to my dad’s bedroom. Jack is on the bed, reading.

“Can I borrow your car, Daddy? I’m blocked in and I don’t want to play musical vehicles.”

He looks up over the top of his book. “Where are you going?”

I have to fight not to make an are you kidding face at him. In high school Jack never questioned where I went, but that was pre-Alan. Crud, I’m nineteen, I go to Berkeley, and I’m getting the parental treatment over an afternoon in SB with Neil Stanton. If it wasn’t so weird it would make me laugh.

I sink on the bed. “Just out to kick around and do some SB things with a friend.”

“Male or female?”

I roll my eyes. “Male.”

“Janitor or TA?”

This time I do make a face at him. Jack is just teasing me. “Janitor, if you must know. May I take your car? Where are the keys?”

His eyes return to his book. “In the kitchen. You know where. Don’t be late.”

~~~

I go south on the 101 searching for Milpas Street. I can do this.  I stop at the street lights for the downtown freeway cross-through traffic. I wonder if I missed the off-ramp and I’m not familiar with south of the lights on the 101. It’s like a demarcation line. I never drive pass the lights on 101.

The light turns green and I continue frantically reading the signs. So there is a Milpas Street. I pull off onto the ramp and make the left turn toward the eastside.

Jeez, I’ve never been on this street before. I didn’t even know there were buildings with bars on the windows in Santa Barbara. What kind of neighborhood does Neil come from? I tighten my fingers around the steering wheel. I should have played musical cars and taken mine. The Volvo would have definitely looked less out of place than my dad’s shiny new black Porsche.

I stop at a light and read the street sign. I haven’t a clue where I’m. Two blocks down I find my turn and I make a right. One block over from Milpas Street was what Neil said. I look at the address I scribbled down. Two-twelve, two-twelve, where is two-twelve? Why is nothing in Santa Barbara logically laid out?

There!  No wonder I missed it. The house is set back from the street, with a long driveway and a smaller structure before it. Well, this isn’t awful. It’s charming. It makes me curious about Neil’s family.

Neil’s parents’ house is a lively blue California bungalow with white shutters and a pretty front porch, crowded with plants and rattan patio furnishings. It’s an old house, but then most houses in the downtown area are old, and it is small. Neil said he has three sisters. How do they all fit in there?

I pull into the driveway, lift my hand to honk the horn, and stop myself. Nope, I want to go inside. I want to meet Neil’s family.

Neil is, if nothing else, an enigma. As friendly as he is, he is never personal. He never talks about his family, his days with Josh and the band, his music, or even casually about his love life. If I take Neil at only what he shares, I would have to believe that this superhot guy doesn’t date. Why is Neil so private about everything?

I climb from the car and I can hear the sound of lots of people from the backyard. I walk up the four concrete steps onto the porch, pull back the black iron security screen door, and knock beneath the wreath of eucalyptus on the heavy oak door.

I take a last, anxious glance over my shoulder at Jack’s car having second thoughts about this. It didn’t occur to me until I knocked that Neil might get pissed about this. He doesn’t introduce girls to his family and he didn’t want me to come in. I’m sort of invading his personal space. Personal space is definitely an important boundary to Neil, and I don’t know how he’s going to feel about this.

The door is jerked wide. Too late.

“May I help you?”

The man standing before me is tall, tan, and very fit for what looks like a man in his fifties. His expression is warm and strangely intimidating simultaneously. Sandy brown hair, big green eyes, baggy board shorts beneath a t-shirt: Neil’s dad.

“Do you need help?” he says, this time louder.

I blush. Crap, I didn’t answer him the first time. I just stood there studying him. Neil’s dad looks over the top of me and notices the Porsche parked in his driveway. A curious stare fixes on me and the color on my face deepens.

“I’m here to pick up Neil,” I mutter and then kick myself mentally because that was lame. I smile. “I’m Chrissie.”

Now his expression is one of surprise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chrissie.” His gaze shifts to the car again. “Would you like to come in?”

Another tall male, clearly a Stanton by the looks of him, and by his age probably one of the twenty cousins, is in the doorway now with his arm around Mr. Stanton’s shoulders. “Is that your car?” he asks.

I nod. What is it with guys and cars?

“This year’s model. A Carrera. Right?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s my dad’s. I drive a Volvo.”

Mr. Stanton laughs. “It’s good that your dad has his priorities straight. I see too many pretty young things like you wrapping cars like that around poles these days.” He makes a slight gesture with his head. “Come on in. I think Neil is in the back with the rest of his cousins. I’m Robert Stanton. You may call me Robert. Or Mr. Stanton. Or if you haven’t guessed yet, Officer Stanton—”

“Or Officer Robert,” the guy at his side interrupts with a grin.

Mr. Stanton frowns. “Come on in, Chrissie. The rest of them are not as obnoxious as Taylor here.”

I laugh. Mr. Stanton is intimidating, must be that cop thing, but he’s friendly enough, and I can see where Neil gets his dry humor from.

The door is closed behind me, and the living room seems to shrink around me and the very tall men. It takes only a half dozen steps to get across the room to the patio doors.

My eyes round as I step out onto the simple brick patio. Jeez, Neil wasn’t kidding. His family is enormous. The yard is a pretty nice size for a city lot, but it seems to strain from the sheer number of them. And crud, this is a family barbecue I’ve crashed and I don’t even see Neil here.

I’m quickly surrounded by four men that I can tell are Mr. Stanton’s brothers; the same coloring, approximately the same age, and the same smile.

Mr. Stanton places an arm lightly around my shoulders. “Everyone, this is Chrissie. She’s here for Neil.” That elicits an interesting assortment of reactions. I flush. Mr. Stanton smiles down at me. “I’m going to do this once.”

“And there’ll be a quiz before you’re allowed to leave here,” jokes Taylor, and everyone laughs.

“This is my wife Michelle,” Robert announces proudly. “She’s modern. She likes to be called Michelle.”

The woman in the chair in front of me stands up and offers her hand. Her smile is quick and pretty, and she is tall, blond, and curvaceous. It’s clear that the Stantons adore each other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chrissie.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Stanton.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “I’m Michelle. Always Michelle. Mrs. Stanton is my mother-in-law.”

I laugh and Robert takes me by the hand and introduces me to the rest of them. I can’t keep up with the names, and there’s an undercurrent of affection in the fast flowing words around me, the quick exchange of quips and comments tossed around the yard by the Stantons like a rapidly kicked hacky sack.

Neil’s sisters are young, the oldest only in tenth grade, and they’re pretty, long limbed, and green-eyed like their brother. I can’t help but smile at everyone’s boundless enthusiasm at meeting me. What’s up with that? Neil’s family is delightful. Why wouldn’t he bring his girlfriends here?

I’m directed by Mr. Stanton to sit in a chair beside Michelle.

“What would you like to drink? Diet or regular?” Taylor asks.

“Diet Coke if you have it.”

Mr. Stanton settles in the chair on the other side of me. “Where are you from, Chrissie?”

“I’m a local. Born and raised here.”

“So what high school did you go to?” Michelle asks.

I take the plastic cup from Taylor. “Saint Catherine’s Academy.”

One of the cousins laughs. “Boarding school, huh? Which were you? Troublemaker or divorced parents?” she asks, eyes bright with curiosity.

“She’s with Neil. Troublemaker,” another of the cousins jokes.

They all laugh.

My entire face burns.

Michelle rolls her eyes. “Don’t take them seriously, Chrissie. The Stantons have a weird sense of humor, Mia and all present company included.”

They all laugh again.

“So what does your father do?” Neil’s Uncle Richard asks.

I tense. I hate that question for a variety of reasons. There are some people who adore Jack for his politics and music, some people who hate Jack for his politics and music, but I’ve yet to find any people who have no opinion on Jack, and the Stanton brothers are law enforcement. Neil comes from a family of cops. I never expected that one.

I take a sip of my Diet Coke. “My dad is sort of retired.”

“Nice work if you can get it,” Neil’s Uncle Greg laughs.

“Really nice work,” a loud female voice exclaims. I turn to see a woman carrying a grocery bag crossing the yard toward me. “You should see the car parked in our driveway.” She drops the bag by the picnic table and extends a hand to me. “I’m Carol.” She points to Neil’s Uncle Richard. “I’m married to that one and you must be the reason Neil is pissed.”

“So where do you go to school now?” Greg Stanton asks. “City College or UCSB?”

“Are you and Neil staying for dinner?” Robert asks.

I struggle to keep up with everyone. “I don’t know…”

“I doubt it,” Carol says loudly right over top of my sentence.

I look at Greg Stanton. “I go to Cal.”

“Smart and beautiful,” Richard announces. “Why are you dating a janitor? Hey Robert, isn’t that what Neil is doing these days? Not music. Janitorial profession. You should date this one here.”

Uncle Greg squeezes the shoulders of a tall, replica cousin of Neil. “My son Tony. He’s a starting fullback at USC.”

“Go Bruins!” someone shouts.

“Go Bears,” Taylor counters, and gives me a wink.

They all laugh.

I blush.

“What are you studying?” Michelle asks sweetly.

“English and Music. I want to teach.”

“Neil, keep this one around. Smart, beautiful, head on straight, and knows where she’s going,” Robert advises, his voice loud, his face turned toward the patio doors.

I look over my shoulder to see Neil crossing the yard. There is no smile in his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Neil without a smile in his eyes. Oh crap, he’s pissed at me.

Neil doesn’t say hi to me. He drops down in front of a cooler and begins to stock it with cans from the bag he carried out from the house. “I warned you,” he mutters, shaking his head. He scrunches up the empty bag and looks at me. “I told you to wait in the driveway and honk.”

I flush scarlet and shrug. “OK. And you said you’d be here, and you weren’t when I arrived, so we’re even.”

I stand up and fish the keys from my pocket.

“Aren’t you staying for dinner?” Michelle asks, sounding disappointed.

“We’re not staying,” Neil says, dropping a kiss on his mom’s head.

“That’s a lousy way to say hello to your girlfriend,” Richard jokes, tossing a burger on the grill. “You should at least kiss her on the head like you did your mom.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Can we go please, Chrissie?”

Robert rushes across the yard. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Chrissie. Now that you’ve braved meeting us, don’t be a stranger, dear.”

I smile and do a quick wave to everyone. I have to walk double time to keep up with Neil. I catch him on the front porch.

“Well, that was rude,” I exclaim.

Neil stops on the steps, turns, and exhales a ragged breath. “Sorry. I just don’t like people in my shit. I don’t bring girls home because I don’t want them in my shit.”

I frown. “I don’t get it. You have a great family. They’re nice. They’re fun. They’re—”

“They’re obnoxious. First they grill you about who you are. Then there’s the background check. Then the drug test. And then they’ll throw condoms at you. One of them has probably got the plate number of your car written down. You don’t know what it’s like growing up in a family of cops.”

He has to be joking. I laugh. “Not really?”

Neil’s eyes round, but there’s a little of the usual sparkle in them. “Really. Ask Tony. He’ll tell you.”

I make a pouty face. “I’m sorry.”

“Can we go?”

I follow Neil to the car. He opens my door and the gesture makes me smile. I lean my arms across the top and stare up at him. “You’re twenty three years old and you have really never brought a girlfriend home?”

“Yep.”

I sink into my seat, stare through the windshield, and laugh. Taylor and Tony are watching us from the living room window.

Neil drops down in the passenger seat and frowns. “Why are you laughing?”

I bite my lip and shake my head. “Nothing. I just think funny thoughts sometimes.”

I put the key in the ignition and put the car into gear.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Anywhere. I don’t care.”

I stare at the intersection, trying to remember how to get back to the freeway. “Can you give me some idea of where you want to go?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Anywhere. Someplace quiet. It’s always so loud there.”

Red light ahead. I downshift. “OK, how about the pier? Hendry’s? The mall? I might even consider a movie.”

Neil grimaces. “The pier, Hendry’s Beach, and the mall? I thought you were up for just chilling and doing some SB things.”

“Those are Santa Barbara things.”

He turns the air conditioner off and rolls down his window. “Why do you have the air conditioner on? We have ocean air.”

“Boy. I guess I just do everything the wrong way. There’s the freeway. Right or left?”

“Let’s just do something outdoorsy. Let’s go up to Devil’s Playground and just sit.”

Devil’s Playground? I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about. “OK, so do I go right or left on the freeway?”

Neil frowns. “Don’t you know where Devil’s Playground is?” He points to the onramp. “There. We go north. Chrissie, there’s no right or left on the freeway. We go north.”

I roll my eyes. “Be nice. Beggars wanting transportation should not be overly rude.”

Neil gives me a smile. “I’m sorry. Give me five minutes to decompress. I’ll be chill again, I promise.”

“Whoever said you were chill before?”

He laughs, reluctantly at first, and then with a more natural flow. I smile. I’ve amused him. Good. He was entirely too grim and keyed-up before, and I make a mental note to myself to figure out what’s up with that. The dots don’t connect: the Neil I know; his family; his reaction to his family. Nope, the dots don’t connect.

“If you want quiet, we should go to my house,” I say, shifting gears.

“And if you want to bring your dad’s transmission home not stripped, you need to learn how to shift gears,” he teases.

Neil points at a sign. “Get off here.”

This exit I know. It’s one I sometimes take to get home. I slow down for the stopped traffic ahead, concentrating on correcting my downshift.

“Right or left? Since this is State Street, I assume I can say right or left.”

“Straight. We’re going up 154.”

I push down on the brakes too hard and we make an abrupt stop. “Up the mountain?”

Neil frowns. “Of course. Unless you know another way to get to Devil’s Playground from here.”

I go through the intersection and pull into the parking lot of a strip mall. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel and I turn to stare at Neil. “I’m all for fun and I’m all for outdoorsy, but I’m not driving up the mountain. That road is dangerous.”

He gives me an are-you-joking look. I put the car in neutral, set the parking brake in place, and climb from the car.

“What are you doing?” Neil asks through his open window.

I open his door. “You drive.”

He holds up his hands in front of him. “Whoa, I’m not driving your dad’s car. I can’t even afford a windshield wiper if something happens to it.”

“Well, we’re not going to get there if I drive since I don’t do hills well with a stick shift. So unless you want to go to Hendry’s, or the pier, or the mall…”

Neil climbs out. “Fine. Maybe you can watch while I shift and learn how to do it so you don’t fuck up your dad’s car.”

I smile. “Maybe.”

We sink back into our seats, Neil adjusts his for driving and I lock my seatbelt in place. “Just don’t hit anything,” I admonish, fighting to keep the smile from my face.

Neil gives me a look and I sink my teeth into my lower lip not to laugh. He shifts into gear and we exit the parking lot fast enough to make the tires squeal. A quick right turn and we are on our way up the mountain. I watch without letting him see me as he maneuvers Jack’s car through traffic. It’s effortless for him, but I’ve never been a stick shift girl, no matter how much time Jack has spent trying to teach me.

I lean my head back against the rest, close my eyes, and enjoy the feel of the air swirling through my hair. “Can I ask you something, Neil?”

“Sure. Anything.”

I open my eyes to look at him. “So why did you call me today? What’s up with that? You’re a hometown boy. You must have lots of people to hang with. A girlfriend. Why me?”

He frowns at me, sort of startled by the question, and quickly shifts his eyes back to the road. “We’re friends. I thought we were friends.”

He says it as if he’s confused. His answer does nothing to help my confusion over what this is. I smile. “Yep, friends. I just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page.”

“Trust me, Chrissie. Same page. More than you know. You don’t have to worry about anything else.”

OK, what’s up with that, and what is that I hear in his voice? A part of me feels rejected, a part of me relieved, and a part of me just wants to slap him. God, what a stupid combination of emotions to feel, especially since it’s not like I want to be more than friends with Neil. Maybe it’s just knowing he doesn’t want more that makes the female ego react contrarily, even when I don’t want Neil to be interested in me.

I peek at Neil out of the corner of my eye. Or maybe it’s just because he’s so freaking good looking, even if he’s all full of himself in that hot-guy way. Tussled sandy brown hair, bright green eyes, strong features, and perfect white teeth to top off his perfect tan. Nice body too. Tall, long limbs, lean defined surfer-type muscles. And he’s always so attractively understated and just a touch messy in how he dresses. Like the clothes he puts on don’t matter, and yet every garment he puts on loves him. He looks good in everything, even that stupid jump suit on campus he’s forced to wear while working.

That’s probably why my female ego felt a little prick after the you don’t have to worry about anything else comment. I probably wouldn’t have had any reaction if he wasn’t so damn good looking.

Near the top of the mountain we exit the highway onto a winding road that heads toward the ocean and begin a series of blind turns down a one lane road, heavily shaded by trees and cutting through rocks. Some of the giant boulders are covered with vivid green moss. It looks entirely different than the rest of Santa Barbara. Where are we? I’ve never been here before.

“I love it up here,” Neil says, and makes another left onto an even narrower, only gravel lined road.

We stop. All I see is forest and giant boulders. “Devil’s Playground? This is Devil’s Playground?” I asked, surprised.

Neil laughs. “I can’t believe you’ve never been up here. What kind of local are you? Josh and I spent half of high school up here. Smoking weed. Writing music. It’s my favorite place to get my head clear.”

He climbs from the car and quickly comes around to open my door. I stare. “So what do we do here?”

He points at the rocks. “There’s a path across the rocks to the cliffs. I guarantee you’ve never seen a view of Santa Barbara like this.”

My eyes grow round. “You want to hike across rocks to a cliff?”

Neil laughs. “Yep. Something tells me you’ll love it, Chrissie.”

He takes my hand and guides me to a rock. Effortlessly, he climbs atop. He offers his hand and I take it, but I’m not feeling at all sure about this. He pulls me easily up beside him. Jeez, it didn’t look that high, but it feels a lot higher standing on top of it.

“Just do what I do, Chrissie. It’s no big deal.”

Neil hops to the next rock. I follow. Neil hops. I follow. Jeez, they’re getting higher, the ground is farther away, and each hop a little tougher.

I stop. I stare across the gulf beneath me. “I don’t think I can make it.”

Neil smiles reassuringly. “Sure you can. My sister Kristy can do it. I haven’t lost anyone yet.”

I take in a deep breath and hop. I smile up at Neil. “You bring your sisters up here?”

“I used to. When I lived at home. Don’t see very much of them now that I’m in Berkeley.” He hops onto the next rock. He turns to wait expectantly. “I miss them, though. My sisters.”

I can see the edge of the mountain.

“Three more rocks and we’re there,” Neil says with heightened encouragement and enthusiasm.

I start to laugh. He sounds excited, like a little boy, and all we’re doing is jumping rocks to a cliff. He hops. I follow. He hops. I follow. He hops, and then I’m on the rock at the cliff.

Oh my god. I see what all the fuss is about and instantly understand why Neil loves this place. It’s like being on the edge of the earth, surrounded by no one, only forest below, then Santa Barbara in such detail I can see the streets, a hundred mile view of the Pacific Ocean coast line, and each Channel Island so clearly I can see the topography. Home looks entirely different from up here.

Neil sinks down to sit, hugging his knees. “Awesome, isn’t it? I can’t believe you’ve never been here.”

Smiling, I sink down beside him, sitting cross legged. “It’s incredible. Thank you for bringing me here.”

He reclines on an elbow and hip, long limbs relaxed, and the smile on his face is breathtaking. “The best things in Santa Barbara are free. Most people never get that.”

I laugh. “Why do they call it Devil’s Playground?”

Neil’s gorgeous green eyes twinkle. “Because if you miss a rock, you’re pretty much screwed, Chrissie. It’s a lot farther drop than you think.”

I hit him and he rolls away, laughing. I lie back against the rock, arms beneath my head, copying his posture.

“Why did you really quit the band and end up in Berkeley?” I ask.

Neil exhales heavily, exasperated, and then leans back up on his elbow. He studies my face.

“A relationship,” he admits haltingly. “I’ve had one of those on-again off-again things going since I was fifteen. Worst kind of relationship. The kind you can’t seem to make work or make end. We were on again, so I left the road for San Francisco and we were off again right after we got there. I’m still getting over it, Chrissie. Shit got crazy this time. It kind of fucked me up for a while.”

I smile. It surprises me that he told me this. “I’m sorry. It sucks to care about someone you can’t make it work with.” I study his face.  “Why did you tell me this? It’s the first personal thing you’ve told me.”

He brushes the hair back from my face. “I wanted you to know it’s not you. That’s not why I’m not interested in anything. If I wanted a relationship with a girl, it would be you. You’re pretty cool.”

I blush, the compliment throwing me completely off balance. Cool: I never expected that to be what Neil Stanton thought of me. I always feel terminally uncool. An outsider.

He looks away and settles back against the rock. “I also figured you’d get it. You’re still hung up on Alan Manzone. We’re both in love with people not good for us. People we can’t be with. I think that makes us perfect together. I figure if we hang together, we’ll end up really good friends.”