Chapter 35
OCEAN
Early the next morning, Ocean stood in her kitchen, gazing out the window toward CJ’s cottage.
Weighing the wisdom of knocking on her door with a couple of lattes or a bouquet of flowers.
She understood CJ wanting alone time after the sudden, shocking death of her friend and mentor.
She genuinely got that. Before the kids, she’d tended to retreat into the bleak comfort of her own mind at such times.
Yet, as she got older, Ocean valued Mrs. B’s approach more and more. People needed people. On the other hand, their relationship was so new—barely even budding—that she didn’t want to step on any of CJ’s boundaries.
So instead of making lattes or cutting flowers, she stared through the window.
“Oma,” Riley said, behind her. “You’re worse than a middle schooler. Do you want me to pass her a note saying ‘do you like me? Check yes or no.’”
She turned and saw Riley dressed for school in baggy jeans and a halter top she’d upcycled from a black silk blouse Ocean’s ex had left behind.
She had a better sense of style than either of her mothers, which pleased Ocean.
She’d always nurtured her daughter’s creativity …
and of course Riley had inherited her sarcasm.
“Listen, I’m not good at this, okay?”
“You really aren’t.” Riley hugged her. “But you deserve to be happy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. So go talk to her.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Fix your hair first,” Riley said, as she left the house for school. “You look like Rocket Raccoon.”
So Ocean went to the bathroom and wrestled with her hair until it looked exactly the same as when she started.
She applied lip gloss, then crossed the courtyard.
There was no answer when she knocked on CJ’s door so she figured she was still asleep.
She’d had a lot to drink last night and nowhere to be this morning, so she didn’t blame her for sleeping in. She’d catch up with her later.
Thinking about last night reminded Ocean that the Marigold Collective needed to prove CJ’s innocence.
That was the one way she could help with her grief, to get Karina off her back.
So she decided to head downtown to dig for DeYoung-related gossip.
She knew a lot of struggling artists, but only a few who might be familiar with philanthropists.
She started at The Spot, located a block from the art museum. The owners, Thomas and Petra, claimed that the gallery name was in honor of pointillism, because they’d met in front of a Seurat painting in Paris, but Ocean knew the truth: they loved dalmatians.
Inside the gallery, classical music drifted from the speakers and a few visitors inspected the heavily framed California landscapes on the walls.
Petra approached with a click of heels and a professional smile.
She was the kind of woman Mrs. B called “waspy,” while Thomas was a charmingly ramshackle Brit.
“Welcome to the gallery,” Petra said. “Feel free to—”
Thomas interrupted. “Ocean! It’s been a long time.”
“Oh!” Petra said. “Sorry, I’m on autopilot.”
“It’s great to see you.” Ocean drifted around the gallery until the guests left, then asked, “Did you hear about Frank DeYoung?”
“Such a tragedy.” Thomas clicked his tongue. “He was a good friend of our friends George and Helene.”
“I think I’ve heard of them,” Ocean said. “The Beard and the Bird?”
Petra gave a honking laugh. “Oh, god, that’s perfect.”
“Actually,” Thomas said, “they were there the night he fell.”
The three of them agreed that while Frank’s death was tragic, he’d lived a full life and had helped World of Goods become a major nonprofit.
“He was involved in the arts, too,” Thomas said. “Donated to the symphony mostly. And didn’t he support medical research?”
Petra sniffed. “No, he just supported that friend of his.”
“Sunny Wheeler?” Thomas asked.
“That’s the one. Frank took far too good care of Sunny when he got into legal trouble with his life-extension company. Frank covered for him.”
Thomas shook his head. “I thought he got in trouble for sleeping around?”
“No, it was a medical thing. He wasn’t practicing medicine without a license, but along the same lines. Frank dropped a truckload of cash on the AMA or somebody, and it went away.”
“Don’t listen to Petra,” Thomas told Ocean. “That’s all unfounded gossip.”
Petra winked. “The best kind of gossip.”
Ocean grinned and said, “Speaking of which, I heard Karina is cutting off their donations. Like, completely? She feels like she missed the ‘spending money’ phase of the marriage.”
“In her defense,” Thomas said, “that sounds like a super fun phase.”
The bell over the door jingled and Petra greeted the group of tourists entering. Ocean said goodbye and headed outside. She transcribed the conversation to the group chat before she forgot anything.
She couldn’t imagine that Sunny’s history of legal troubles mattered in the slightest, but it was new information, at least. And one step closer to clearing CJ.