Chapter Thirteen
I woke up sad. Maybe it was the research I’d done on the legality of selling a preowned casket on Facebook or maybe it was the half-used bottle of my mom’s perfume that had shattered in my toiletry bag when Ruby knocked it onto the floor while she was doing her skin-care regimen last night.
Or maybe it was because Brody had stopped calling me and Tess was impossibly busy and even more so impossible to get a hold of. But regardless, this morning I was sad.
And I was irritated at Ruby for humming while she made her toast and having the nerve to be in a good mood. I wished I could blame it on my PMDD, but according to my period app, that was not the culprit. However, living in close quarters with my grandmother . . .
“You look tired,” Ruby said as I prepared Marlon’s breakfast of prescription wet food and fish oil.
“Because I am tired,” I said, my voice full of bite. “Your couch isn’t exactly ideal for sleeping.”
She gave me a look that reminded me I was crashing here for free. Touché. “Which I’m thankful for,” I added. “But I’m also sort of stressed about the movie night tonight.”
“I can’t for the life of me understand why you’d choose Saving Private Ryan for your little movie night.”
“The internet says World War Two movies are big with your demographic.”
Ruby grumbled. “Yes, the one thing missing from the final years of my life is a chance to float in a pool and watch boys stumble around Europe looking for each other.”
Okay, well, maybe I wasn’t the only one in a shitty mood. “I tried to get all of the glass shards off the floor of the bathroom,” I told her. “But be careful if you go in there barefoot. I’ll see you tonight?” I asked as I grabbed my tote bag.
“That’s what Hollis tells me, though again, I’m not one for wartime features.”
I thought the residents would love my idea of a float-in movie night. It had occurred to me after my night swim the other day that the pool was actually lovely at night. But if Ruby was any indication, my film selection might be panned and my first event a bust.
* * *
In advance of my Sunset Screening program, I spent an hour decorating the pool area with streamers and a felt red carpet I’d found online. I even wheeled out the popcorn machine and put together a candy cart.
The pool was full of floats that ranged from aesthetic (an inflatable swan) to practical (a raft-like thing that looked way more comfortable than Ruby’s couch).
Morgan also gave me permission to offer the lifeguards overtime to work the event.
With the sun below the horizon, it actually felt good outside.
Despite my shitty mood today, I was settling into the routine of having a real job.
Working for Brody was real, especially in terms of LA jobs.
But this was a job with a lunch break and coworkers and something about the normality of that was comforting, especially since the last time I hadn’t worked for Brody was the Smoothie Hut in college.
The two lifeguards, Mindy and Oscar, were both students at the nearest community college and looked to be bored enough to collect lint from their belly buttons. But at least they’d be paid for their lint picking.
After I went to start the popcorn and grab myself a box of Whoppers, I checked the time. The event was scheduled to start at eight, but it was already ten minutes after.
The residents of Starlight Palms were still a mystery to me in many ways, but one thing I did know was that they were punctual.
Hollis and Ruby arrived at eight thirty to an empty pool.
“Excuse our tardiness,” Hollis said.
Behind her, Ruby wore a botanical-patterned silk caftan and smelled like weed.
“Are you two high?” I asked.
They giggled a little as they eyed my box of half-eaten Whoppers.
Ruby sniffed the air. “Is that popcorn I smell?”
I opened the gate. “Help yourself.”
The two of them milled around the snack table before I finally shooed them away and told them there was no use in staying. Besides, the only thing worse than failing was for Ruby to witness it.
“You two might as well go too,” I told Mindy and Oscar, who both made googly eyes at each other that led me to believe their plans for the night included more than picking lint from their belly buttons. Was everyone in this place getting laid?
I wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, but I decided to risk the raft. I’d set up this whole damn thing for absolutely no one, so I loaded my arms with towels, popcorn, and a few canned Bellinis from the adult beverage cooler.
As I pulled the raft to the steps of the pool, I was incredibly grateful for my idea to attach ropes to each float, should we have a senior go adrift.
I tied my rope to the hand railing just as the opening credits began to play for the movie.
I should have brought a backup movie that I would have actually wanted to watch.
I wobbled and swayed, nearly wiping out before I plopped down, bringing on a little water and sitting in a puddle, completely resigned to my fate. Whatever. Wet pants were better than being startlingly sober while Ruby ate through our pantry due to a serious case of the munchies.
With one of the towels, I made myself a pillow and used the other as a blanket. The sway of the water was nice. The raft reminded me of the waterbed Ruby had in the nineties. Tomorrow I’d deal with tonight’s failure, but for now, I sipped on my Bellini and nommed on popcorn.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d lain there when I felt something tugging on my rope, pulling me back to the steps. The movie screen had gone dark and I was curled on my side with the towel tugged up over my shoulders.
With a groan, I yanked the towel over my head and said, “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“If lost at sea is fine, then sure.”
I knew that condescending voice. My raft teetered as I sat up, popcorn falling from my lap.
My cheeks were warm, and my vision a little fuzzy at the corners as I shifted, empty cans clattering at my feet.
Welp.
I was drunk and being actively fished out of the pool by Eli Buckley.
As the raft hit the stairs, I swatted the nearby alligator float out of my way and stood up much too fast.
Eli held out a hand to help me up, but I refused and gripped the railing instead. Except, the raft had begun to float back out into the pool, and I was holding on to the railing for dear life, trying to pull the lower half of my body back to safety.
“Help,” I squawked.
“Oh, now you want help?” Eli asked as my torso stretched farther across the water.
Instead of letting me slow-motion belly flop into the pool, he pulled the rope back and gripped my biceps, forcibly helping me onto solid ground.
I swayed for a minute, my stomach gurgling.
He caught me by the elbow, his hand warm and firm. “You okay?”
I let out a deep breath and nodded.
Sternness set into the lines of his forehead in a very I’m-not-angry-I’m-disappointed sort of way. “I’m walking you back to Ruby’s.”
“I think I’d rather sleep here.” With that dismayed look of his, it wouldn’t matter what he wanted me to do. I would have claimed to have wanted the opposite.
He shook his head. “Not an option. Besides, I don’t think Morgan would like that. Or the groundskeepers, honestly. But the residents. Now, that would be some fresh gossip for them.”
For the first time, I noticed what he was wearing. Dark blue slacks and a cream knit collared shirt. He looked rich and smart, and it made me feel poor and dull.
“Did you just get back from a very important date or something?” I asked, and he made no effort to correct me.
“When did you become so stylish? You know, in college all you wore were khaki shorts and soft T-shirts. The expensive kind that you buy soft. Like, they’ve been pre-softened for you.
Like, it was someone’s job to soften the T-shirt. ”
“You remember my soft T-shirts, then?” he asked. “What else do you remember?”
I remembered plenty. I remembered that even when he shaved, his face and neck were still thick with stubble, like there was no stopping it.
I remembered the way he pursed his lips together when he tried not to laugh at something funny.
I remembered how he was never late for class and always made time for a full eight hours of sleep before a test. That he smelled like detergent because he actually washed his clothes.
And girls panted over him. A soon-to-be doctor who did his own laundry? It didn’t get better than that.
“I remember that you barely tolerated me,” I told him. “I remember that you started the annulment process before I even got home to LA.”
He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut.
I slipped my shoes back on and began to clean up the snack table and the popcorn machine.
“You should get some sleep,” he said.
“You should get some sleep,” I told him.
I opened the glass door of the popcorn machine and the smell hit me so hard I gagged.
“Okay, okay,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist. My back pressed against his chest, his breath warm on my neck. “Let me get you back to Ruby’s. I’ll take care of the food and the groundskeepers will deal with the screen and inflatables.”
I huffed. “But then I’ll owe you a favor. I’ll be in debt to you. I’ll be in the red.”
“I might have to send my bookie after you.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Your favor bookie. But he won’t be worse than the guilt I’ll feel for owing you a favor.”
He led me down the sidewalk with his hand hovering over my lower back, his fingers randomly grazing, sending traitorous chills up my spine each time. If not for fear of puking in front of him, I would have spun right back around and pinched my nose to get through cleaning out the popcorn machine.
“No one came to my event,” I said after a few moments of silence. “They all hate me. Especially Ruby. Old people are so mean.”
“Your grandmother doesn’t hate you.” We approached a curb and he said, “Step.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.