Chapter Four
“Beth. You look wonderful.” Dan, dressed in blue shorts and white tank top with a lei around his neck, was slopping guacamole into a ceramic bowl.
Beth self-consciously inspected her clothes. The choice had been easy. Her black Levi’s and tight, plain white T-shirt were the only things she’d packed that weren’t either too grungy or too wrinkled. Her breasts weren’t large, a solid B-cup, but she was a little self-conscious of the way they announced themselves in the tautness of the shirt. She’d dropped close to ten pounds because of Stephanie, the loss trimming up her figure, but even so, the shirt was noticeably snug. She thought of running back upstairs to change, but felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Grab a drink, Beth.” Alder smiled warmly. She wore a spruce green turtleneck and khaki pants. “Go out to the coolers and help yourself. Hell, you bought the stuff, why am I telling you?”
Beth smiled. “Would you like anything?”
“A light beer would be divine, thanks.”
Beth squeezed past the people milling about the back door, excusing herself as she made her way toward the coolers at the far end of the porch. She could hear laughter down in the backyard. The darkness was punctuated only by a smattering of candles and hanging Christmas lights, but as her eyes adjusted she made out a large group of moonlit people by some roses. The Coop party had drawn quite a crowd. At least forty people stood watching Jay, the DJ, when she returned to the front living room with the beers she’d fished out of the cooler.
“All you queens and homogirlies are gonna love the music I put together tonight.” Jay kept up a steady chatter as he made his music choices. “You’re gonna think you’re in your fave local bar, but the only difference is, you don’t have to tip for the booze.”
When he cranked the first song of the night, many began dancing immediately, while others bobbed their heads to the beat.
Alder took the beer Beth offered. “I’m glad you decided to join us. And I’m glad you extended your stay. There are lots of fun things to do here and nice places to go.”
“The nicest thing about this city is that it feels completely different from Los Angeles,” Beth stated simply.
“That it does. I lived in L.A. for many years, but I always thought I needed to be up here. I had a meager job back there, a circle of friends that were probably not that great for me, and generally my life wasn’t what I needed it to be. Anyway, one day I just left. I sold off most of my belongings and figured I could do better here.”
“It takes guts to leave.”
“I guess you’d know.”
“Me? I just left on a…vacation of sorts,” Beth said. “You packed up your life and went.”
“There’s really no difference.” Alder looked reflective. “You needed to get away just like I did. The first step is realizing a change has to happen.”
“Like starting over after a breakup.”
When Beth didn’t elaborate any further, Alder changed direction. “What part of L.A. do you call home?”
“Well, that’s a good question. Right now I’m not sure.” Beth stared at the beer label. “I pay the mortgage in Long Beach.”
“Is your ex still living in the house?”
“No, she moved across town a few months ago.”
“How long were you together?”
“A little more than three years.”
Alder clinked her bottle against Beth’s. “Hey, no more L.A. talk.”
“Agreed.” Beth leaned toward her. “Say, why is this place called the Coop?”
“Oh, it’s just a joke. It comes from ‘chicken coop.’”
“Why on Earth would it be called that?”
“Well, I’m almost too embarrassed to say. No one remembers the originator, but it was nicknamed the Coop because it’s said that if you stay here long enough, you eventually get laid.”
Beth knew her eyes were wide. She and Alder both started laughing at once. They watched the crowd through the next few songs. Beth appreciated the fact that Alder didn’t pressure her for more information. She seemed to sense when to back off.
Impulsively, Beth voiced the thought that plagued her. “Do you think it could be called running away?”
Alder volunteered an experienced smile, the kind that made it clear that she’d faced this question before. “It’s only considered running away if you avoid dealing with whatever you had to get away from.”
The music ended and Jay yelled into his mic, asking the crowd if they wanted more music. They responded with suggestions and cheers.
“Anytime you want to talk about it…” Alder offered.
Beth managed a smile. “It’s like a bad movie. And I only talk about bad movies over coffee.”
“Well,” Alder said, holding up her beer bottle, “this certainly isn’t coffee.”
Beth checked her watch. It was close to ten. “People sure don’t waste time getting to your party.”
“When there’s free food, no one feels the need to make an entrance. Plus, it’s pretty much the same crowd every party. Everyone looks forward to seeing each other.”
“Kinda like church without the guilt.”
Alder laughed her booming laugh. “We come from similar backgrounds. Listen, enjoy yourself to the hilt and don’t regret a moment of it.” She raised her bottle. “To an absolutely great, to-the-hilt evening.”
Beth’s glass met hers with a clink. “Regrets be damned.”
Some time later, she wandered into the dining room and quickly found herself embroiled in a discussion with two women rugby players. Vicki was tall and wiry, and Candy was the more muscular of the pair. They were trying to recruit her. Even though the conversation wasn’t deeply engrossing, she was enjoying herself. Between Alder and the rugby women, she’d met quite a few people throughout the house, all friendly and inquisitive. Her mood was higher than she could have imagined. She checked her watch. It was past eleven thirty and she was still enjoying herself.
“You could just come out and see if you like it,” Vicki said.
“I’m sure it’s a great sport,” Beth conceded. “It’s just that I have something against compressed vertebrae.”
Candy shrugged. “That doesn’t happen…that often.”
“We play every Sunday. At Perkins Park.” Vicki continued trying to convince her. “You’d be a perfect candidate. You’re probably fast, and we need fast women.”
“Don’t we all.” Candy chuckled.
“Hear, hear,” Vicky said and they raised their bottles to toast.
Before Beth could take a sip, she felt someone squeeze her elbow and turned to see Mary flash a spectacular Cheshire Cat grin.
“You came.” She looked genuinely happy.
Jarred, Beth hesitated a moment, and her defenses immediately went up. She didn’t want to be put on the spot again, compelled to fit in with Mary’s agenda, whatever it was.
“I did,” she replied. Her tone couldn’t have been flatter, but Mary didn’t seem to notice.
She and the rugby women knew each other and immediately started comparing notes about a game. “We’re trying to recruit this one, here,” Vicki said, tapping Beth on the shoulder.
Mary shook her head. “I’d like to have a few moments with her before she gets her first nosebleed.”
Candy chortled. “Don’t scare her off. Rugby’s not that violent.”
“Compared to the unrest in the Middle East, I guess you’re right.” Mary pulled Beth’s elbow. “I’m gonna steal her for a minute, okay?”
“What makes you think I want to follow you?” Beth murmured as she was drawn away.
“Consider it a public service.” Mary stopped long enough to smile. “Come on, they’re rugby players, for goodness sakes. They’re all maniacs, with hospital records to prove it. Plus, I wanted to talk to you.”
They passed the kitchen, where a mob was crushed up against the kitchen appliances. The living room was just as packed as the kitchen, but the music was blaring much louder.
“Even sardines would get claustrophobic.” Mary turned toward the base of the staircase, by the front door. “Let’s sit here.”
She plopped down on the second step, leaning against the railing. Beth sat on the third step wondering what Mary wanted.
“I’m really glad you decided to come,” Mary said.
A polite response was called for, but Beth wasn’t sure that this brash woman deserved one. “Why?”
Mary tilted her head back slightly as if thinking, Aha. “Because I didn’t get a chance to sit and talk with you this morning.”
“You seemed to do quite a bit of talking,” Beth retorted.
Mary appeared unfazed. “And you didn’t.”
Beth sorted through possible responses, the most immediate ones being, I don’t like to be a party to such an overbearing diatribe or You were talking so much, I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t. But before she could pick an answer, Mary offered her own take.
“Strangers tell me I come on too strong sometimes. Hell, who am I kidding? My friends say that, too.”
“I’m sure you only find amusement in that, not humility.” Beth heard herself and realized she’d been a little too sharp. She felt guilty for throwing such a barb, but keeping her dukes up still seemed prudent.
“You’re a hard nut to crack, Miss Beth.”
“Tough shell, I guess.”
“I guess.”
“So,” Beth wanted to change the subject, “what would we have talked about?”
“You mean this morning?”
“Yes, if we’d sat down and had a real conversation.”
Mary smiled. “Like, where are you from?”
“Los Angeles.”
“How long are you here?”
“A couple of weeks.”
Mary paused. “Why are you here?”
Beth sat silent, thinking, then slowly replied, “I need to be away.”
Mary raised her eyebrow. “From?”
“Los Angeles.”
“Well, I don’t know much about you, but I do know that you’re adept at circular conversations.” Mary flashed her beyond-white teeth.
She was obviously joking, but this time Beth didn’t feel that it was malicious. She shrugged. “I guess we’re back to square one.”
“It’s a woman,” Mary said. “You need time away from someone, so you came up here.”
“God, is it that obvious?” Beth thought to say it out loud, then realized with shock that she had, in fact, said it out loud.
“Just a lucky guess. I mean, you’re up here alone. I presumed there was either a complication in your career or a relationship issue.”
“How’d you know I was alone?”
“Now, you’re inquisitive. I like that.” Mary lightly tapped Beth’s knee. “I asked Alder.”
“Why would you do that?”
Beth found it curious that such an unbridled woman as Mary would inquire about her. She was already trying not to notice the woman’s astonishing attractiveness, not easy when Mary was sitting so close her body almost brushed Beth’s with every movement.
Mary leaned unnervingly closer. “At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, I think you’re very beautiful and I wondered who you were.”
“I take it you’re free to inquire about single women you meet?” Beth didn’t want to be on the angry end of some hidden girlfriend.
Mary laughed. “I don’t have a lover, if that’s what you mean.”
Beth felt herself loosen up a little. “That is what I mean. I don’t want some jealous woman making me go running to Vicki and Candy for protection.”
Mary placed her hand over Beth’s. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let that happen to you.”
She withdrew almost immediately, but the touch upon Beth’s hand lingered. The caress had felt warm and soft. The odd paradox of this wild woman possessing such a calming touch made Beth’s chest feel strange. She didn’t know whether she was relieved, or unhappy that the touch had been so brief.
Recovering, she quickly countered, “You hardly know me.”
“No one starts out knowing someone. We all start out as strangers, don’t we?” Mary leaned in much too closely. “And the fun of starting out as strangers is that we get to become acquainted.”
Beth sucked in a nervous breath, hoping Mary would move just a little further away. When she didn’t, Beth observed, “Subtlety isn’t listed anywhere on your résumé, is it?”
Mary grinned. “No, I guess it isn’t.” She ran her hand through her thick blond hair. “Would you like to hear my résumé?”
“Do tell.” In fact, Beth did want to hear how this woman would describe herself. Was it possible that she hadn’t thought of Stephanie in, oh, at least twenty minutes?
“Let’s see. I’m Mary Walston. Thirty-three years old. Born in Malibu. Left home at seventeen. Fell in lust numerous times from seventeen to twenty-six. Discovered West Hollywood. Fell in love the same year. And ended up in San Francisco about three years ago.”
“So, if I do the math, that leaves about four years unaccounted for.”
“The lost years.” Mary smirked. “During those dubious years I was venturesome, reckless, wild… cheeky. My mom always used that word. What else?”
“Unbridled?”
“Sure.”
“Dauntless?”
“See, we’re not such strangers after all.” Mary smiled. “May I buy you a drink?”
“Would you be offended if I said no? I feel as though I’m some sort of target you happened to get a bead on tonight.”
Mary looked at her, seemingly mulling it over, and then said calmly, “I understand your skepticism. Here comes this woman spouting on about your beauty. ‘Bold’ is another word I should have on that résumé. But I assure you there are many women here at this party that I don’t know, and I don’t care to know. And yes, you caught my attention this morning. I really hoped you’d come tonight and when I saw you, I wanted to tell you all this.” Mary paused. “Beth, you’re attractive and I wanted you to know that. How you respond to that is not anything I can control. And even if you tell me to get lost, I’ll still be glad I told you.”
Without thinking, Beth uttered, “Thank you.”
Mary’s candor was refreshing, but Beth still felt on guard. She could not allow any woman to get under her skin, and Mary was exactly the type who would. She was enchanting. Beth felt like she was in one of those classic black-and-white films where the gorgeous, bombshell woman bedazzles an awestruck gentleman. The man is blitzed by the woman’s astonishing radiance and cannot believe he is the object of her attention. But this was not an old movie, it was here and now, and Beth was the unlikely object of Mary’s attention.
She was not even sure if she was reading the signals correctly. The reason she’d ended up alone in San Francisco, in the middle of a party of strangers, was simple but painfully bona fide. She felt unwanted and undesirable, and had further contributed to her own plight by not sleeping, not eating, and generally not caring about herself. Thus, the puffy eyes, the gaunt look, and the wrinkled choice of clothes in the duffel bag.
Mary couldn’t possibly be interested in her. She was too beautiful. Like Stephanie. And Stephanie hadn’t wanted her. She couldn’t trust Stephanie, and Mary probably fit into that category as well. Mary, Beth concluded, was toying with her.
From across the room, two women bellowed Mary’s name and made their way through the crowd. Mary stood up and introduced the pair.
They hugged Mary and the younger of the two asked Beth, “Would you mind if we stole her for a second?” She already had Mary by the hand. “We’ve been looking for her all evening.”
“Sure,” Beth replied, thankful for the reprieve, yet a little deflated.
Before they walked out the front door, Mary leaned close and whispered, “I’ll be back.”
Beth seriously doubted it. She gave a noncommittal smile and let herself be sucked once more into the energy of the party. Eventually she ended up on the back porch, glad for the chance to catch her breath. She cracked open another beer but before she could lift the bottle to her lips, Keith grabbed her.
“I see that Mary thinks you’re pretty interesting.”
Beth decided that ignorance was the best response. “You do?”
Keith nodded. “Isn’t she breathtaking?”
“She is.” Literally.
“She’s one popular woman,” he said.
“I can’t imagine she has too much trouble in the dating department.” Beth knew her fishing was extremely obvious.
“That’s an understatement.” Keith guffawed. “She can’t turn her head to sneeze without some luscious hottie handing over a tissue along with her apartment keys.”
Figuring she’d already walked through the door Keith had opened, Beth asked, “Should I be careful of her?”
“Only if you decide to marry her.” He jumped as an arm landed on his shoulder.
“Marry who?” Mary asked.
Beth’s heart reacted noisily, thumping in her ears over the music coming from inside the house.
“Oh, no one, honey,” Keith replied innocently.
Mary gave him a long look, then took Beth’s hand. “Follow me.”
“Now where are we going?”
The question only made it as far as the back of Mary’s head. She was already leading Beth out of the kitchen and into the hallway between the staircase and the living room. Just as a man exited the bathroom in the hall, Mary ducked into the small space, pulling Beth with her.
“Why are we in the bathroom together?” Beth asked. “Do you need…assistance?”
“No.” Mary laughed as she closed the door. “I didn’t want to be interrupted again. I’m sorry my friends took me away from you. They wanted to show me their new car. But now I’m back.”
Mary was doing that thing again, Beth thought. Her party posture was gone and she was expressing genuine sincerity. Their eyes locked and Beth found her mouth curling up to match Mary’s smile. For a few seconds, she let herself bask in the delusion that she was the center of Mary’s total and exclusive attention, then she called reality to mind. She thought about her first observation of Mary, when she was working the room at breakfast. No matter whom she talked to, she seemed to be very aware of everyone else in the kitchen, making sure everyone was greeted, acknowledged, and complimented. Perhaps she was making more of an effort with Beth because she was new here and not instantly impressed.
Mary’s hand still held hers. The grip was warm and firm. Beth figured the little shocks she felt between their palms, like the ones you get from touching car doors in dry weather, were her imagination. But what Mary said next wasn’t.
“Come here.”