left my jacket on my seat, and the ocean air was damp and cold on my bare arms. The sun had set, and the night was dark. A bare sliver of moon was pale and low in the sky. Somewhere nearby, a drummer was practicing, playing the same riff over and over.
The parking lot was full. Cars arriving this late had to turn around and look for places on the street. People hurried into the meeting. I walked through the parking lot onto the street and looked in both directions.
I didn’t see them until I’d walked almost two blocks down from the meeting. Mike and the woman in the red dress were deep in conversation. I started to walk towards them, but their body language shouted “private.” The woman was agitated, rubbing her arms and pacing as she spoke, anguish in her features. Mike spoke soothingly and calmly, but she kept interrupting him. Her manner registered not social anxiety but fear of a different magnitude.
Her red dress was cut in a long “v” that revealed the tops of her breasts, and her high heels sunk into the ground like golf cleats. Mike said something to her softly; she whirled around to spit out an angry reply, the only words I could hear.
“What if he finds out it was you? He’ll kill you!”
Her heel stuck and her ankle twisted, and she stumbled. Mike caught her and stopped her fall. He took her in his arms, and she burrowed into his powerful embrace; the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled. Her shoulders shook with sobs. Mike held her as she rocked against him. A tall man, he looked over her head, to see who might be watching. Instinctively, I stepped back into the shadows. He seemed furtive, anxious, a man who does not want to be seen. He took her by the arm and led her away.
I looked at my watch. 8 o’clock, time to start the meeting.
CHAPTER 10
“Jan 3. Caleigh doing sushi.”
“Jan. 15. Hannah did sushi. PC took them to a party, and she did it with—you won’t believe this—Paolo Navarro!!!!! Am I crazy for saying no?”
* * *
Mike never came back to the meeting. I knew I had to go back to Gerry’s eventually, and I thought it might as well be now. Needing help was not my strong suit; one of the things I prided myself on was how little I asked of anyone. I drove back, made myself a cup of tea, and flipped through the pages of Julia’s journal. I copied every name I read into my notebook.
It had begun to rain. Fat drops slashed against the window and trickled down the glass. Even in the dark, the ocean outside was dotted with white flecks of foam, crests of waves roiled by the winter storm.
The sporadic entries spanned the years to the present; the entries I was reading now were from just last month.
“Jan. 31. “OMG!!!!! Finally decided to do sushi with Caleigh and Hannah. PC set it up. Said it was up to me if I hooked up or not, all I’d have to do is go and have a good time, but if I hooked up, $$$$. Got to party and who was there!!!! Clinton!!!! OMG I wanted to die. Sooooooooo embarrassed, but he was totally cool about it. But now he knows...”
“Feb. 11. Was doing sushi and ran into Brett!!!! Could she tell? She was so out of it, she probably won’t even remember, but OMG I thought I would die!!! What if she tells my dad????”
What? Feb. 11? That was just a few days ago. When had she come to see me? Was it really just yesterday? I checked the calendar on my phone. So that was the look I’d seen in her eyes when she came to see me on the beach. I’d seen her just a few days before and hadn’t remembered. Where? Who was she with?
I wracked my memory, but it was blank. I remembered being at the Topaz Lounge, knocking back shots of 151 proof rum, feeling invulnerable because of the cocaine. I was with a group of people. Who were they? How had I gotten there? Then I remember coming to behind the wheel of Gerry Talbot’s Range Rover, doing 85 on the freeway, terrified of what I might have done and not even known about. I’d been having more and more of these blackouts, but that didn’t make them any easier. Mike had said that was a symptom of alcoholism. But to see Julia? In danger? And not even know? What kind of a monster had I become? I closed my notebook and looked out the window into the darkness. Julia! What happened to that adorable girl, so guileless and good-spirited? The answer was unavoidable. I was the closest thing to a mother she’d had, and I’d failed her. Even before I left, I wasn’t there.
I’d told myself I was so toxic, she was better off without me. But without a mother to guide her, she’d gotten lost. She was throwing herself away, as I had. How could it have been different if all she had was me?
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