california christmas dreams (8 page)

“What about what you do? Your house is a show place.”

“Say what you will, everything in that house is something I love, and the lucky part was that it all worked together.”

Traffic was heavy for a Saturday. It seemed that, with the prolonged hundred-degree weather, everyone was heading for the beach. They fell into silence as Jake concentrated on driving. He thought about Merry and what her childhood had been like compared to his own. As a child, he’d loved the park, but he’d grown to resent it as it had consumed his father’s time.

Not until he was an adult and graduated from college did he realize all the advantages the park had given him. It had paid for his education. He’d learned to deal with difficult people. He could operate every ride and even do some simple fixes when something broke down. He’d learned to handle money.

His father had made sure he could do everything, and after a while he’d realized the park was a family business even though he and his sister had chosen very different paths. He wondered if his father had been hurt by the direction his life had gone. If so, he’d never said a word. Thinking back on his life, his father had subtly encouraged him to seek his own way.

He realized his father didn’t want to retire. His father loved that park. He’d helped build it with his own hands; he’d put his soul into it. Which made Jake start thinking about his grandparents and how they must have felt when his father had decided to build the park instead of farming.

“You’re frowning. What are you thinking about?” Merry asked.

“My father,” he said. “He always encouraged me to go my own way, but I started wondering what he really wanted for me. I know he would have liked me to take over the park, but I didn’t have any interest in it and neither did my sister.”

“My parents weren’t too thrilled about my acting. I had to do a lot of tap dancing and make a lot of promises to get my mom to take me to auditions.”

“What kind of promises?”

“No grades lower than an A minus, and I had to sign a contract that I would go to college.”

“You’d think your mother would support a daughter in the arts. After all, she’s renowned for her stained glass.”

“Yeah, with her degree in political science. My parents were the hedge-your-bets kind of people. After all, look how my acting career turned out.”

“Are you unhappy with what you’re doing?” he asked, wondering if his father had made a mistake hiring her.

“I love what I’m doing.” She leaned toward him. “But don’t tell anybody, I like set design a lot more than I ever liked acting.”

He glanced at her, totally surprised. “I would never have known that.”

“Acting is a lot of pressure. Pressure to remain thin, pressure to look a certain way and everything I did was scrutinized. I couldn’t take a lunch break at McDonald’s without someone taking a photo. And it’s even worse now with Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Honestly, I do not miss the spotlight, but I do occasionally miss that feeling of being special. It’s addictive. But long-term relationships are hard to maintain.”

As they approached the beach, they exited the freeway and fell into a long line of cars snaking down the boulevard.

“Being a celebrity did not do many of my clients any favors.”

“You have to realize that the second you become a commodity, people treat you differently. Some people don’t tell you no, letting you have whatever you want whenever you want it as long as you’re famous. The second you stop being famous, everything goes away, and a lot of people will start telling you no, and you don’t know how to react to that. A case in point is Maddie. She was cute and perky as a child and everyone loved her, but the minute she blossomed, her career went away and she couldn’t manage the change. A lot of child actors get lost and never recover. My parents kept me grounded, and every day I feel lucky.”

“Are you saying you’re lucky to have survived your career or not to have had a longer one?”

“Both,” she said. “Turn right at the next light.”

People walked along the sidewalks carrying picnic baskets and towels over their arms, wearing big-brimmed hats that shaded their faces. He could smell the salt in the air; seagulls floated overhead.

“Turn down that alley,” she said.

“But there’s no parking,” he protested as he turned into an alley shaded by large palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze. Carports opened onto the alley. He glimpsed tiny yards. The salt smell of the ocean was stronger than before, and he knew they were a block, maybe two, from the beach and that this area was prime real estate.

She directed him to a covered carport halfway down the alley.

“We can’t park here. This is private property,” he said, though the thought of trying to find parking in a public lot would be daunting on a day like this.

“This is my grandparents’ house. Trust me, we’ll be fine, and at the same time I’ll find you something to wear besides a black suit.”

He parked his Mercedes in the carport and she jumped out of the car, a set of keys in her hand. “I come here all the time. They won’t mind.”

Inside, the cottage was small but tidy. Painted in soothing blues and grays, the furnishings were a little worn but comfortable. The rooms smelled a little musty, but Merry cranked open the windows and fresh air, along with the scent of some flower, blew in and freshened the room.

“Now,” she said, hands on her hips as she studied him, “to find you something to wear.”

“Nothing too loud.” Visions of plaid shorts and a blaring orange shirt filled his head.

“My grandfather is very conservative.”

“Then nothing too old man,” he replied, thinking he would come out smelling like mothballs.

Merry laughed as she walked down a narrow hallway. He stepped into the small living room. Four overstuffed chairs skirted a coffee table and shared space with a baby grand piano that barely left any room to maneuver. Behind the piano, sliding doors opened onto a large patio so overgrown with bushes and flowers he thought it was a jungle. On top of the piano were dozens of photos in plain frames. He glanced through them and saw Merry and her sister in various stages of growth, from babyhood to college graduations.

“Jake,” Merry called.

He stepped into the hall and she stood at the end in front of an open door. She held khaki shorts and a purple-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt.

“No on the shirt,” Jake said.

“Come help me,” she said.

He stepped toward her. At the end of the hallway, he glimpsed a bright kitchen that was large and comfortable, and he instantly knew that this room was the real gathering place in the house, with its modern appliances, granite countertops and island with stools situated around it. A fireplace in the corner was flanked by a small sofa and matching chairs.

He followed her into a small, cozy bedroom decorated in green with a fireplace that was shared with the kitchen and a large bed with a bench at the foot.

“Something in white,” he said when she pulled out another Hawaiian shirt, only slightly less loud than the first one.

Merry laughed again. She pulled out a white, short-sleeved pullover and tossed it to him. “The bathroom is through there.” She left, closing the door after her.

He didn’t feel comfortable in such casual clothes, but he knew he’d start to broil in his black suit once he was out in the sun. He neatly hung his suit coat, shirt and pants over a small wooden valet in a corner of the bedroom and donned the clothes she’d given him.

When he walked back into the living room, she was rummaging in another closet, and finally pulled out what she was looking for. She handed him a pair of sandals that adjusted with Velcro.

“Better,” she said, looking him up and down. “Now you won’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

The sandals were a little big, but he pulled the Velcro straps tight. This was not how he pictured himself. He’d never been a beach person, but he’d agreed to a party once, and even though he’d had fun, he hadn’t much liked the sand that got into everything.

Despite the breeze, the boardwalk was hot. People on skateboards, wearing roller skates or just walking moved along it. Waves slapped against the sandy beach, the roar a pleasant background sound for the chatter of voices. A few surfers sat on their boards a couple of hundred feet out waiting for the next wave. He was surprised at the risk the surfers were taking. Two great white sharks had been caught recently, which was one of the reasons Jake didn’t swim in the ocean. That, and he couldn’t see what was under him. The movie
Jaws
had scared him enough to confine his swimming to the swim park.

Two dogs bounded through the surf chasing Frisbees. Shops lined the street facing the beach, and he noticed there was a preponderance of tattoo parlors.

She led him down the boardwalk, passing a Chinese restaurant, a dozen T-shirt stores, a couple of stores showcasing what his father called TTTS, or ticky-tacky tourist shit, and another two tattoo parlors. She stopped at a pathway between a tattoo parlor and a Thai restaurant.

“We’re eating at a tattoo parlor!” he said.

“Get inked while you eat your shrimp tacos,” was her flippant answer.

He couldn’t help teasing her. “What makes you think I’m not inked? I deal with rock stars and rappers every day. I’m down.”

She stopped to look at him, eyes narrowed. “Is that an invitation to rip your clothes off right here and see what I can find?”

“You wouldn’t want to ruin your grandfather’s clothes, would you?”

She led him down the tiny pathway into a courtyard-type garden with tables clustered around a fountain and striped umbrellas shading the tables. Two tables were occupied, the rest empty. She led him to an empty table covered in brown butcher paper and sat down.

He sat down opposite her. He couldn’t ever remember eating at a restaurant where he seated himself.

A man came out with an apron wrapped around his waist, holding a wooden board with a small loaf of bread on it. He slapped the bread down on the table and opened his arms wide.

“Merry,” the man cried. Merry jumped up and threw her arms around him. “I wondered when I’d see you again now that you are gainfully employed.”

Seeing Merry in another man’s arms sent an odd jolt of emotion through Jake. He wanted to rip Merry away from the other man.

Merry laughed and hugged the man back, then broke away. “Andrew Becket, meet Jake Walters. Jake, this is Andy.”

Jake recognized the man immediately. He’d played Maddie’s older brother on the show. He stood and shook hands with him. “Mr. Becket,” he said formally.

Andy Becket was tall and slender with long, slim hands and a face that was smooth and handsome in the way Hollywood seemed to treasure. When he smiled, he had a small dimple at the bottom of his chin. His eyes were a deep, clear blue with eyebrows that curved up and out like angel wings.

“Call me Andy. Everyone does,” Andrew Becket said. “Nice to meet you, Jake. Merry’s told me a few things about you.”

Nothing kind,
Jake thought, but he simply smiled. “I’m sure she has.”

“Do you have any food allergies?” Merry asked.

“No,” Jake replied.

She turned to Andy. “Bring it on,” she said with a laugh.

“The works?” Andy asked.

“Do you really need to ask?” Merry said in a teasing voice.

Jake wondered what he was getting into. Andy went back into the restaurant and returned a few seconds later with a bottle of wine, setting it on the table with two glasses. He opened the wine and poured a bit into a glass for Merry to sip and approve. He served them and left again.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jake asked, eyeing the glass of wine. He’d never dined before where the waiter didn’t ask his wine preference.

“Two reasons,” Merry replied. “The food is awesome, and I wanted to show you another child star who isn’t on drugs or broke.”

Jake had to admit that his job was to deal with spiraling-out-of-control has-beens or newcomers. He knew his view of the industry was jaundiced and Merry wanted to show him another side.

“The media tends to concentrate on the worst that can happen to a child actor and seldom covers the best that can happen. Being a successful adult isn’t news.”

“So Andy’s a success story,” she said. “Are you familiar with the Barbarossa Brewery?”

“I eat there on occasion,” Jake admitted. The food was excellent, but the real achievement was the thousand different brews it offered from all over the world.

“Andy opened the first one and built it into a national chain. I invested in his restaurants and when he sold them, I bought a house. Not only is he a terrific chef, but he’s also not insane.”

“I know there are a lot of sane former child stars out in the world. I even have a number of them as clients. I really don’t think all of you are crazy.”

“But you thought I was going to fleece your dad out of his money,” she said in a sugary-sweet tone. “Have you changed your mind yet?”

“I’m on a date with you,” he said.

“This is a date?” She laughed. “I didn’t think you liked me enough to want to date me. I thought I was just introducing you to cheap, terrific food.”

“Is this a trick question?” Maybe
date
wasn’t the right word. He wanted to get to know her better.

“And here I hoped you just wanted to get to know me better, to see I wasn’t crazy.”

“I know you’re not crazy.” In the space of a few hours he’d learned a lot about her and was surprised at how normal she was. “But I think your childhood was kind of crazy.”

“Yeah, but it was fun.” She leaned an elbow on the table and cupped her chin with her palm. “I met a lot of celebrities and I could tell you Mel Gibson was a whole bucket full of different when I met him.”

“That’s very diplomatic,” he said, considering his own dealings with the actor.

“And I had the most embarrassing moment of my life when I met LL Cool J. I went totally fan girl on the poor man. And, ironically, the few times I’ve run into him in the past fifteen years, he remembers and really likes to tease me about it.”

“What happened?” he asked curiously.

She held up a hand. “Not a chance.” She took a sip of her wine and then cut the bread, slathering butter all over it.