Chapter 16 #2
He’s quiet for a long while as we crawl forward on the freeway. “Ari, I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. I didn’t realize what you were dealing with and how recent it was.”
Despite my current mind freak, I can’t stop the half smile that curves my mouth. “You’re referring to the “goth” comment.”
Now it’s his turn to look embarrassed. “Yeah. I’ve never lost anyone. I really have no idea what you’ve been dealing with, but I think I have a better idea now. And I feel bad that I made a snap decision about you.”
His confession has managed to get me out of my own head and stop my freak-out. The smile I give him is real and a bit sardonic. “It’s okay. I made some snap decisions of my own.”
“About me?”
“Yeah. In all fairness, the intern comment that first day didn’t help your case. And then you were so rude in wardrobe. Imagine my surprise to learn you aren’t actually a conceited jerk.”
He laughs. “Whoa. I see!”
I chuckle. “Thanks for listening. It feels good to talk to someone about this. And I appreciate your vote of confidence in my acting skills. I am enjoying the process of filming. Acting could be an option if I were to get more roles. Hopefully, not as a thirteen-year-old.”
He grins as his gaze sweeps over me before returning to traffic.
“You really could play an impressive range of ages. That will serve you well. I’m only just starting to be offered roles for characters my own age.
But there is something about you that could translate into an older role for you as well.
Hey, maybe you’ll play my girlfriend in my first legal age role. ”
I don’t know why that makes me blush. I turn to look out the window, so he won’t see. “Ha ha. Imagine me playing a twenty-two-year-old.”
“Oh, I can imagine it.”
Something in his tone keeps me facing the window so he doesn’t see the heat flare through me.
I’m thankful when he flips on his blinker and exits the freeway.
Sally is staying with her aunt, so within a couple of blocks, it’s evident we are in an upscale town.
The homes are old, but beautifully maintained, and the landscaping is impeccable.
The houses get bigger, the driveways longer, and then gates start to appear at the entrances as we progress deeper into the neighborhood.
Crispin’s navigation system sends him through a maze until it finally tells us we’ve arrived.
He pulls up to a tall wrought iron gate and rolls down his window, letting in the oppressive heat of the day.
If for no other reason, this heat is why I wouldn’t want to move inland.
There is always a cooling ocean breeze at my place, even on the most stifling days.
Crispin presses a call button on a box outside his window, and the gate swings open. He pulls forward slowly, whistling. “Wow. This place is amazing.”
“It is.” I’m leaning forward to get a look at the tops of the palm trees that line the drive. A manicured lawn stretches out on both sides of us, ringed by tall oleander bushes that probably act as a privacy break from the neighbors as well as being a beautiful property border.
The house comes into view, and I smile at how totally Californian it appears. White stucco with a red tile roof. A sprawling single-level hacienda with lots of windows.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathe.
The driveway curves, and we pull up in front of the double front doors, which swing open to reveal a grinning Sally.
A tall, handsome guy follows her out of the house.
I see him say something over his shoulder before he closes the door.
Then he catches up with Sally and holds her hand as they approach the car.
She swings the back door open and scrambles inside. “Hey, guys. Thanks for picking us up. I’m so looking forward to this.”
She scoots across the backseat, and the boy climbs in after her.
“This is River,” Sally says. “River, Crispin and Ari.”
Crispin turns so he can shake River’s hand. “Glad you could join us, man.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
It’s only then that I remember Sally saying her boyfriend moved out here with her.
So, Crispin isn’t interested in her. He just wanted to do something with us.
Huh. I don’t know why that surprises me so much, but it does.
It seems so…nice. I mean, he’s from here.
He must have boatloads of friends around, but he’s spending a Saturday with us.
I study him out of the corner of my eye as he resets the navigation for the little museum. I really had him figured all wrong.
“There’s like nothing online about this place,” Sally says. “They don’t have a website or anything. There are a couple of Yelp reviews, all of which are super positive. I can’t wait. Thanks for doing this, Crispin.”
“No problem. It’s the first thing I thought of when you went on and on about Bogart’s love life that day.”
I glance at Sally with raised eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes. “I do tend to go overboard about stuff like that. I’ve read everything I can about all the great old-time actors. I’m so obsessed.”
River chuckles. “Even her aunt is blown away by all the useless information Sally has about old actors and shows and movies.”
Sally hits River playfully with the back of her hand. “Hey, now. No sharing the embarrassing details.”
Crispin wasn’t kidding when he said Sally lives close to the museum.
We’re there in less than ten minutes. He finds street parking, feeds the meter, and then we’re walking down the sidewalk toward a dark door he pointed to.
It’s a small storefront in a line of retail establishments and restaurants on the ground floor with several stories of apartments above.
The buildings are old and graffiti-tagged.
Windows are covered in posters for upcoming neighborhood concerts or people advertising psychic readings or searching for lost pets.
“If you guys like Filipino food, there is an excellent restaurant we can visit afterward.” Crispin points to a place across the street.
“Authentic?” River asks, a strange look of longing in his eyes.
“I don’t know for sure, but it seems like it.”
“Oh man, what I wouldn’t give for authentic pancit.”
“That’s right, you’ve had the real stuff.” Crispin nods. “You can tell us how authentic it is.”
Just inside the door of the museum, we find a man sitting behind a card table, a newspaper spread open in front of him.
“Oh, hello,” he greets, seeming surprised to see anyone walk through the door. “Four of you today?”
Crispin nods and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. He hands the guy a credit card. I dig money out of my little purse and hold it out to him, but he shakes his head.
“But…” I start, but he shakes his head again.
“I’ll get this.”
“Thanks,” the three of us chorus.
The man hands Crispin’s card back to him along with a receipt. His gaze doubles back to him. “Wait, aren’t you somebody?”
Crispin’s smile is genuine when he answers. “We’re all somebody.”
The guy makes a funny face. “Clearly. Wait, I almost have it.”
“I’m Crispin Moore.” He turns to us. “This is Arabelle Quill and Sally Garza, both of whom you will know better by this time next year. And this fine gentleman is River. I don’t know his last name, but he’s somebody too. Just not somebody you’ll recognize.”
The guy’s eyes sparkle with interest. He looks at Sally and me before settling back on Crispin. “Thanks for coming in today. How did you find out about us?”
“I’ve been here before. It was fun. Had to bring my co-workers. Sally, in particular, is very interested in the love lives of the rich and famous.”
“I’m so excited to be here,” she confirms. Her blue eyes peer down the dark hall that leads into the museum.
“We’re happy to have you.” The man nods at each of us. “Who knows, maybe one day you two will be on our walls.”
I look at the guy and see that he’s looking between Crispin and me. I startle and shake my head. “No, we aren’t…” I step away from him like that will prove our lack of a relationship.
The guy squints at us with a quizzical look. “Really?”
For some reason, I find I can’t look at Crispin.
My head is telling me to laugh it off – even to make a joke of it by winding my arm in his and calling him some endearment as I steer him away.
But the thought of touching him scares the tar out of me.
So instead, I shuffle away from the table, shaking my head as I go, and end up standing behind Sally, who is giving me an odd look.
“Anyway, to see the display chronologically, start in the first room on your left.” The guy waves. “Enjoy!”
Sally grabs River’s hand and pulls him down the hall, leaving Crispin and me in their wake.
When he falls in step beside me, I’m again hyper aware of the difference in our height, the distance between us, how he has altered his pace to match mine, how he bends toward me slightly like he’s focused on me instead of the first display we come to.
As we make our way through the museum, my mind catalogs each movement he makes.
How he makes them. I nearly jump out of my skin when his fingers rest on my back to guide me through a door before him when we enter the second room.
I’m distantly aware of Sally exalting over the accuracy of the information on the placards we pass and some pictures she’s never seen before of the more elusive Hollywood couples.
But mostly, my mind is occupied by Crispin.
It’s like that man’s comment has made me see Crispin in a totally new way.
Suddenly, I’m noticing how attentive he is to me, and it’s making me feel giddy.
When we leave the museum, we walk across the street to the restaurant that Crispin pointed out earlier. River’s eyes roll back in his head when the savory smells hit his nose, and he lets out an appreciative groan.
“Already it’s one hundred percent better than anything I’ve had since getting home,” he says.