Chapter Seven
They rode in silence. Lane had tucked several computers into a special lined pack and stored them in a custom made hidden compartment in the back of his jeep. He’d also laid out at least three boards that were tied in on a side rack. She thought about joking about how three was excessive exercise, but she didn’t want to get his attention again. Her body was still antsy and humming, and the silence was fraying her nerves.
“When did you buy the house?” she finally asked the question that had been burning her tongue since last night.
“Two years ago when I found out it was going to go on the market.”
She nodded. Of course, he wouldn’t have lucked into it. He wouldn’t have spontaneously seen a sign and bid on it.
“Why?”
“Why not?”
She still thought of that house even though the house she’d shared with Alex had been far, far grander, but it had never felt like home. When she allowed herself to think of the past, she always thought of swimming and surfing with Lane, and letting him feed her with his fingers at one of the local taco shops fronting the beach. And the Ole Hanson hacienda on the bluff. The house represented a dream, an ideal life.
“It just seems—” She broke off, not sure what she really wanted to say. Why she couldn’t leave this alone. Maybe because she’d never pushed a point with Alex, and she’d promised to no longer retreat. “A bit like a museum.”
There. She’d said it. She’d seen no personal touches in his bedroom. Not even clothes. And that house needed personal style. A family. A dog. She’d walked by it so often when she’d been a kid. And then daydreamed about it with Lane. But now it was his. She couldn’t dream about it as hers anymore. Pretend. She forced herself to think of him bringing women home there, making love to them in the bed where she’d slept alone or on the patio or in the shower.
Someday, he’d play with his children in that house.
She twisted her fingers together in her lap as he drove south. She’d really screwed up everything. Absolutely everything. And the only thing she could maybe get right was reuniting with Paz and making a new life for herself.
“Are you happy living there?” She self-flagellated just a little bit more. “Is it what you…” She stopped because it hadn’t been him. It had been her and then we.
What we wanted.
“I don’t live there,” he said abruptly.
“What?” She turned to face him. “Why?”
She couldn’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else.
“I own it. I don’t live there.”
She was astonished. She bit on her bottom lip, trying to think of the words to use so she could understand, understand the man he’d become, but it was none of her business.
“But it’s furnished. You had almond milk in the fridge.”
“I picked that up last night after you’d fallen asleep,” he said, his voice terse, definitely not inviting more conversation.
He’d remembered she couldn’t handle dairy. “Thank you.”
She didn’t know what else to say. She should probably shut up, and the old Luz would have.
“The house is an investment then?”
“No.”
“But…”
“Just leave it about the fucking house, okay? I know it’s a fucking museum. I know it was a dumb move so don’t make a news story out of it.”
The old Luz would have stared out the window and pretended the tense exchange and brush off never happened.
No tengo meido.
“Buying the house could never be a dumb move,” she said softly. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful. Someday, you will live there and be happy.”
He made a weird dismissive sound at the back of his throat. Luz jumped a little but tried again.
“Thank you for taking care of me last night,” she said softly, her fingers brushed against his arm as he turned into the parking area for Trestles. “I think I did have too much to drink last night.” Her face burned to admit it, because she’d never done such a thing before, let herself lose control. “And you were right, I hadn’t eaten, so thank you. And thank you for bringing me to the house. I always wanted to see it.”
He swerved into a spot and cut the engine.
He played with the keys. His shoulders were tight with tension.
“Maybe when you marry.” She forced herself to say the word, and to think of him with a woman who could bear his children. “And make your own family, you’ll live there.” She marveled at her calm, impersonal tone, but then she’d had years of practice.
The silence stretched and stretched. His fingers beat a quick staccato beat on the steering wheel, then flexed. He took a deep breath, blew it out, and ran his long fingers through his curls.
God, she’d loved the way those fingers had stroked her. Never once had they not been reverent. Her nipples peaked and every drop of moisture seemed to beat it to her core, making her feel like she was on fire, like he’d lit a match, and her skin pricked then burned so she was her true essence of longing, liquid heat. She could barely breathe. She felt on fire.
“Lane?”
“Don’t say anything more about the house,” he said, his eyes were bleak, and Luz had to resist the urge to reach out and trace the lines of stress on his face. It seemed like a natural thing for her to do, but it wasn’t, not anymore. “Not a goddamn thing.”
* * *
He could not get out of the Jeep fast enough or far enough away from Luz and his thoughts. He grabbed his boards and his duffle bag as well as the carrying case with the computers and headed down the trail that led down to the beach. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t opened the car door for Luz, but he was so rattled, he had no idea what he’d do if he got that close to her so soon. He had less control now than he’d had at nineteen when he’d been jumping out of his skin to be inside her body.
Even seeing Kadan down the beach peeling up his wet suit didn’t settle Lane. Every nerve in his body jangled on high alert, making him feel uncoordinated, jumpy, edgy, pissed off.
“You’re going to ride with me?” Kadan asked when Lane jogged up. “I pictured you sitting in a chair with the geek squad over there.”
“Hell no, I’m not sitting on my ass.” Lane spared a glance for his team that was already set up to integrate Kadan and Zen, another surfer’s camera feeds. “That’s a prototype I’m mounting on your board and your head.”
“RoboCop 2.0.”
“Hopefully as durable but not as destructive.”
Lane felt himself calm a little. This he understood. Coordinating with his team, ensuring that the equipment was functioning, smack-talking with Kadan. Testing software and hardware communications. Kadan looked like he was a go. Zen jogged up, already wet-suited. He’d been Kadan’s back up, but he’d decided to have Zen test, too. See how that looked integrating the two experiences with the virtual reality.
“Hey, ghost boy.” Kadan slapped Zen on the back. “How’s it feel to be back up?”
“Used to it, but I still haven’t seen your moves. Who’s to say you’re not going to be plan B?”
“My first name is A-Team.” Kadan laughed. He looked up the beach. “Now that’s interesting.”
Lane forced himself not to look up for Luz. He knew by Kadan’s tone that she hadn’t been far behind him.
“I hate to question your play, but WTF?” Kadan’s voice was grim.
Lane gritted his teeth and got in his wetsuit. Ignored Kadan for the first time in his life. Zen followed Kadan’s gaze.
“Hey, isn’t that Luz, Paz’s sister. I didn’t know she was back.”
“She’s back,” Kadan said flatly.
“Isn’t she your sister-in-law?”
“Burning daylight, get your asses in the water.”
Zen looked as surprised at his terse tone as Kadan did, and Lane refused to squirm or avoid their questioning looks. Luz was none of their fucking business.
“So, what’s up?” Kadan asked. “Why’s she here?”
Lane shrugged, the movement was jerky to match his irritated, edgy mood.
“How the hell would I know? I run a gaming empire not a fucking dating site.”
“I think he’s protesting too much,” Zen said.
“I think you’re wasting my time and money,” Lane stalked off into the water. Hell, he’d do the tests himself if those two idiots were more concerned abut his dating past than surfing and creating a proto experience for gamers to try at the competition next weekend.
Kadan caught up with him easily, grabbed his arm. Lane tried to jerk out of his hold, but Kadan easily matched him in size and strength. “Don’t lie to me,” Kadan, his usually smiling face was fierce. “I was there. The whole time. I spent the first six months hauling you out of every bar at night and throwing you on your board every day to ride out that self destructive chain she set in motion. So I have a right to know where things stand with Luz.”
“They don’t,” Lane said coldly. “She’s here to patch things up with Paz.”
“And Alex?”
Lane didn’t answer. Instead he stared out at the ocean, watching the waves build. He should be out there. Not near the shore getting buffeted by the little kid wave breaks and grilled by his best friend. He was going to ride with them. He had to.
“Tell me.”
“She says they’re divorcing.”
Kadan swore.
“I’m good,” Lane said viciously. “I’m tight.”
But he made the critical mistake of looking back toward the shore. Luz was standing alone, the water breaking over her feet, wetting her jeans. She wasn’t wearing sunglasses, her hair was blowing sideways across her face, but even from here she looked lost. She smoothed her hair out of her eyes, and her gaze clashed with his.
“Dammit, I knew it.” Kadan swore behind him.
And Lane didn’t even bother to refute him.
Kadan slapped his board on the water and pushed it out hard, hurtling himself on it and began to paddle fast. Lane followed until it seemed they were racing each other. Zen was far behind them, but, always competitive, he was kicking up his pace.
“Fucking stupid, Lane,” Kadan finally said, glaring at the horizon.
“Not like you kicked Hollis out when she showed up after six years.” He couldn’t help spitting out the words even though they were far more revealing of his feelings than even he wanted to acknowledge.
“I know,” Kadan said. “I know.”
And that was when Lane realized that either way, he was fucked.
* * *
“Hey Luz, you want to join me? I have coffee,” Hollis called out. “Or tea.”
“Coffee would be great,” Luz said and accepted a steaming mug from Hollis.
Hollis pulled out another low beach chair and set it up beside hers.
“It’s like an office on the beach.” Luz looked at the bank of computers on tables, all of them manned by what looked like college students. It made her feel old. She was tech savvy, but she didn’t recognize half of the equipment they were using, nor did she fully understand what the new game Lane and his team of designers did.
Further down the beach, a crew was beginning to set up a grandstand for viewing for next weekend’s surf competition. They milled about, but they seemed more interested in what was about to happen on the water than what they were supposed to be doing on land.
“Who’s that?” She sat up a bit straighter in the chair.
“Zen,” Hollis snapped a photo. “He was Holland’s best friend.”
Luz remembered Zen. He was a cause of Paz’s heartache, but really, Paz had managed to do enough damage to her heart on her own.
“He’s a surfer, but he’s got a ghost show on the History Channel. He travels around the world searching for ghosts. He’s really funny in it.”
Luz nodded. She knew all about ghosts, only hers were more memories. Not something a ghost hunter could help her with. Zen must be thirty now. Double the age of his best friend who’d died.
“Does it bother you to see him?” she asked curiously.
Last night from Mia, she’d learned Hollis had only returned to San Clemente a few months ago after years away. She and Kadan, who’d had an on again off again relationship, had gotten back together and it looked permanent this time, judging by the unique ring Luz spotted on Hollis’s left finger. Luz wondered if all the memories bothered Hollis. Being Holland’s twin. The one who lived.
Hollis, who’d been taking pictures with an impressive telephoto lens, looked surprised.
“No. Not a bit. Zen and I were friends, too, well, as much as someone could be friends with a nerdy introvert who hid in books and art.” She laughed off her painful past so easily “He tried to pull me out of my shell a bit after…after…”
Luz touched her arm in sympathy. Hollis leaned over and one arm hugged her.
“Holland was always the social one. He was my link to the world. When he died, I felt totally lost and just retreated into my studies and art and books. Zen forced me to come out sometimes. And then there was Kadan.” She smiled and her face lit up like a Christmas tree.
Luz stared at the transformation. Hollis glowed. So that was what love looked like. It was a…she searched for a word to describe Hollis’s expression, her entire demeanor. It was a presence, as if Kadan were always beside her.
Alex had never felt that for her. She knew that to her bones. But had she for him? In the beginning she’d been so…relieved, she forced herself to define the emotion. She had missed Lane so much. She’d been so devastated that he had been able to move on so easily, and she had realized that all his words, all his actions, had just been those of a player, but the feelings he’d been able to coax out of her, this intense, scared, lonely, determined, private, young woman had been excruciatingly real. And long-lasting. And Alex had been nothing like Lane. He’d been reserved. Practical. Helpful. At first.
“There are a lot of people here suddenly.”
“Yeah.” Hollis rolled her eyes. “Kadan had a real bad foot and ankle injury several months ago. Likely career-ending, but the laws of physics don’t apply to him, so he’s back. And a lot of fans want to see for themselves.”
Hollis twisted her long auburn hair into a messy bun, secured it with a pen and then picked up her camera again, focusing on Kadan, Lane, and Zen paddling deeper into the water.
“Oh,” Hollis exclaimed, “there’s Paz. She’s surfing.”
Hollis snapped a shot. “She really kicks it on the waves. Kadan says she’s fierce, but you know that.”
Hollis smiled and Luz felt it like a punch. She didn’t know the adult Paz. She’d walked away from her and justified it by telling herself and Paz that now that Luz was married, she needed to live her own life, and Paz had to manage hers. Deal with all her problems for once.
The memory of how her sister had stared at her, first a wave of hurt rippling across her small, tight features, and then her light brown eyes had gone flinty. Paz had slapped her. Hard. Luz touched her cheek as if she could still feel it. And then, instead of yelling, Paz’s voice had gone low and mocking and whip-painful.
And Luz had deserved every hard word. God! The memories just kept rolling over her, and she felt so powerless under their pull. They were like an undertow, pulling her down and away from the shore, from safety, and she could barely breathe under the power of the past.
She wanted to get up and run away. But she’d done that. She gripped the arm of her chair and forced herself to breathe deeply.
“Do you still surf?” she asked Hollis.
“Yeah. I’ve gone out with Kadan while he was recovering. It took time because I’d started having panic attacks in the water, so I started with swimming, but the past few weeks when his ankle was strong enough to try surfing, I went with him. And I realized I love it again, but now”—another bubble of happiness chased across her face—“I’m not sure.” She gently laid her hand over her tummy.
It was quick. Reflexive and then she looked a bit embarrassed and wrapped the revealing hand back around the base of the telephoto lens. She snapped another picture.
“Congratulations,” Luz said.
Hollis smiled. And again it was like watching a brilliant sunrise, and Luz felt like that look drilled screws into her eyes. She shouldn’t have come back to this town. There were too many ghosts and they just kept rising up to choke her.
“Thank you. I’m so excited, but I just took the test this morning,” she said. “So we’re not saying anything, but Kadan is crazy over the moon. He’s already talking names. He’s so impatient for the house to close so we can get in there and personalize it. And, if I’m not careful, he’s going to drag me off to the courthouse to get married soon so it’s done before the baby. But I don’t care if I get married when I’m big as a house or after, but I do want to have a small wedding on my grandmother’s patio overlooking the ocean. Or maybe just at her beach cottage. That’s where Kadan and I got back together.”
She sounded so dreamy, and her happiness was like an uncorked bottle of champagne. Luz had to escape all that joy.
“That’s so wonderful, Hollis,” she said, again touching her arm. “I’m so happy for you and Kadan. And, of course, I’ll keep your secret.”
She stood up and a wave of dizziness washed over her. She felt hot and then icy cold. Maybe she needed to eat something although the thought of food turned her stomach.
“Thank you,” Hollis said, her inner light dimming a bit. “Because I’m only few weeks pregnant. Maybe six or eight, I’m not sure, but I know in the early days, a lot can go wrong.”
Luz almost sat down again at that grim reminder. But the past was the past. She wasn’t going to live there.
“Think positively. It’s wonderful news.”
Her skin felt dry, but clammy. Lovely. Maybe she was getting the flu. She’d been so careful around her small incisions keeping them dry and clean, treating them with tea tree oil. It couldn’t be that.
“Do you mind if I take a coffee to Paz?”
“Knock yourself out.” Hollis handed the large thermos to her.
Luz poured out some coffee, added some almond milk and a splash of vanilla.
“Wish me luck,” she said softly.
Hollis laughed. “You don’t need luck. You need Kevlar.”
If words were bullets, she would definitely need more than one vest.
Holding the cup in front of her as well as the jacket she’d bought her sister, she made her way across the sand, trying to ignore her exhaustion and instead focusing on Paz, who was now out of the water and talking to two teenage boys and a girl with bright purple hair.
“Coming to enlighten us?” Paz said, her voice hard and sarcastic.
“Can’t. Still in the dark,” Luz said trying for a genuine smile. She’d once interviewed a sociologist who claimed that smiling improved your mood. She reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Luz. Paz’s sister.”
The boy took her hand like he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Shake her hand,” Paz said. “She’s all into manners and is a news anchor in the Bay area.
“Did you sleep with him?” Paz demanded, turning to Luz.
“I…what?” Luz was out of practice dealing with Paz’s abrupt attention getting bursts of speech.
“Lane. Why else would you be here?”
“I brought you coffee,” she said, not rising to the bait, and ignoring the teens, their jaws hanging open. She handed the travel mug to Paz, who took it, sniffed, and then sipped. “And a present.” She handed over the bag with ribbon that Mia had taken such care with.
“Why. It’s not my birthday.”
“It reminded me of you.”
Paz looked into the bag. “Cool.” She pulled out the jacket and put it on over her bikini and cotton mini skirt. “Why did you really come back?”
“To see you.” Luz tried to squash down the rising dread.
She’d known reaching out to Paz wasn’t going to be easy, but she hadn’t anticipated having to deal with any other minefields, and Lane seemed like one imminent explosion.
“Are you here to help us with out podcasts?” Purple hair girl asked.
Paz smirked. There was no other word for it.
“Sure,” Luz said softly, realizing she’d trapped herself. She wished her head weren’t starting to ache so much. And she definitely had chills. Not good.
“Right.” Paz scorned, but she continued to sip coffee. “Anchorwoman.”
“Former,” Luz said lightly running her fingers through her hair nervously.
“Former?” Paz looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“In the past.”
“You were fired.”
“Or I quit,” Luz said. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You would never quit. Sitting in that anchor chair and swanning around San Francisco—Luz de Luna Duke.” Paz made a swishing motion with her hand as if she were seeing the name in lights. “That’s everything to you.”
Luz opened her mouth to protest, but the three kids were watching them avidly back and forth like a tennis match. It was embarrassing, although she was done apologizing for herself. At least she wanted to be, but she had trouble dredging up her inner mojo when she felt so exhausted.
“I did quit.” She grimaced.
Not that I had a true choice.
“But I’d rather discuss it in private over drinks, coffee, or whatever?”
“Definitely over drinks and I’m not talking coffee,” Paz said, and purple haired girl giggled. “But not now. We’re setting up for a couple of segments for Eye on San Clemente and also a doc we’re working on. These are my interns. Jorge, Marissa, and Brent.”
Luz nodded. “Why don’t I help?” She said, trying to infuse her voice with enthusiasm.
At least they weren’t young children. And they were older than her baby would have been if she hadn’t…
“You look sick.” Paz noted, always one for boosting Luz’s ego. “And who are you going to help? We don’t need you to read anything while looking pretty.”
“Paz, I did a lot more than that, and I know how to do more.” She stepped up into her sister’s face, using her slightly taller height much like Alex had done over the years, only her voice was warm, not icy cold and dismissive and disappointed. “Paz, I’m sorry. I can’t explain right here, right now, but I’d like to try. Give me some time, please. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Let me help.”
“How can you even say that?” Paz’s voice was hard, but her body was trembling, her teeth biting down almost compulsively on her lower lip like she’d done as a little girl to try to stop herself from crying.
“Because it’s true. I’m back.” It felt and sounded like a declaration, and despite her hot cold chills and the ache in her bones, she meant every word. They were a promise.
“I don’t believe it,” Paz said. “The minute Alex comes looking for you and snapping his fingers, you’re gone again. You aren’t back.”
She shrugged off the jacket and tossed it at Luz’s feet then she stormed off.
The three teenagers watched her go, no expression on their faces.
“Cool jacket,” Marissa said. “Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?”
“She wants it, and, if she doesn’t, I’ll wear it.”
“You?” Marissa looked at her in surprise. “You don’t look like a leather biker chick.”
Luz wasn’t, but she felt a little irritated to be pegged so accurately.
“You’d be surprised.”
Marissa looked as skeptical as Luz imagined Paz would have, but the two boys were checking her out.
“I can see it, maybe,” the one she thought was Jorge said with grudging approval.
Great. Her husband had cheated on her. Lane said she was poison. But she still had appeal for high school boys. Fabulous.