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He offered her a steady stream of opinion in terms so foul it would curl her ears if she could hear him. But she couldn’t, of course, which made him wonder why he bothered.
He stuffed his arms into the sleeves of his Gore-Tex jacket and shrugged the hood up over his head. He reached down and popped the hood of the truck. Without acknowledging Crystal or even glancing in her direction, he went to the back of the Chevy and got out the cables.
He felt her watching him and knew damned well what she was thinking. This was a power play. They both knew it. And by getting him to come back for her, she’d won the first round. But the fight wasn’t over. They both acknowledged that, too.
Propping open the hood, he felt the first cold trickles of rain pouring into his shoe. He looked down to see that the water was ankle deep.
“Fuck,” he said, wishing she could hear, because she hated that word so much. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He clipped the cable to the corresponding battery terminals, hoping like hell he got it right. Then he turned his attention to Crystal’s car. Correction, his car. The one she’d stolen from him, along with the house and everything else in the divorce settlement.
At least she was smart enough to pop the hood release without being told. He found the battery terminals caked with corrosion and had to chip the flakes off with his pocketknife. Then he connected the jumper cables and stepped out from under the hood. With a flick of his wrist, he signaled for her to try the ignition. It was raining so hard he couldn’t hear the engine engage.
She opened her door and shouted, “It’s not working.”
“Try it again.”
She shot him a look and turned the key. With the door open, he could see her do it. Nothing happened—no panel, no dome light, no nothing. Complete failure.
“Try again,” he yelled.
She shook her head. “Still not working.”
Out of patience, Derek motioned for her to move. She had to clamber over the console, and he was treated briefly to a flash of beauty queen leg. Even standing in a puddle in the midst of a storm, even knowing all the reasons he had divorced her, Derek felt a jolt of such irrational sexual hunger that he groaned aloud.
This of course was Crystal’s great power. This was why he’d stayed with her fifteen years instead of fifteen minutes. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever known.
And now she sat next to him, silent and ungrateful, smelling of designer perfume and…He glared at her questioningly. “Smoking, Crys?”
She offered him a skinny, flat package of cigarettes that had seen better days. “Join me?”
“Those things will kill you.”
“We all have to die of something.”
Derek shook his head in disgust while he confirmed what he’d known since he saw the condition of her battery. “It’s dead,” he said.
Rainwater dripped from his hooded jacket to the cloth upholstery.
She said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her tight-lipped, pale-faced, narrow-eyed expression said it all.
“Fuck,” he said, banging the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
She used to wince when he talked that way. That was, actually, his primary reason for talking that way. Now that she had no reaction, he shut up. Then he took a deep, cleansing breath to clear his head, filling his lungs from the top down the way his breathing coach had taught him.
Yes, he had a freaking breathing coach. He had coaches and trainers for every possible angle, physical or mental. If he didn't watch out, one of these days he’d find himself with a coach for taking a piss.
The car was littered with carelessly strewn effluvia. A clump of sodden Kleenex told him she felt as lousy about the teacher conference as he did. A pair of earrings he didn’t recognize lay in the ashtray. Crystal had a way of littering herself throughout the car, stamping it with her presence. It was littered with memories, too. This had been a brand-new car the day they’d driven Charlie to school for the first day of kindergarten. She’d sobbed miserably while big brother Cameron looked on in disgust.
Then, realizing the nest was truly empty, they’d driven to Lovers Lane, a private cliffside parking spot off the coastal highway. It was a place Derek remembered from high school, an outcropping so lofty and sheer that an ordinary car felt like the cockpit of a spaceship. That day, with both their children in school for the first time, he’d made love to her in the back of the station wagon on the scratchy gray carpet littered with golf tees, scorecards, plastic Happy Meal toys and lost pennies. He could’ve taken her home that day, to their own bed, but at home, phone calls and work awaited him.
Back then, she’d wrapped her strong bare legs around him and sighed with satisfaction. Now she handed him her cell phone. “Call your auto club.”
He snatched it from her, got the number from his wallet and made the call. The rain came down harder. The dispatcher said the first available assistance would arrive in three to four hours. When Derek told Crystal this, she said, “I’m not waiting here.”
“Go inside the school and wait.”
“That’s ridiculous. Cameron needs to be picked up in an hour and a half. And then Charlie after that. She’s playing at her friend Lindsey’s house. I don’t know how long you told the sitter to keep Ashley.”
The baby wasn’t with her usual sitter, but Derek wasn’t about to disclose that until he had to. Crystal was pissed enough at him.
“Tell you what,” he said, “get Lily to give you a ride home. I’ll pick up the kids and bring them to your place.”
“No. I’m not imposing on Lily.”
“She’s your freaking best friend,” he said, yelling now. “She’ll bail you out, no problem.”
“Yes, she would, if I asked her to. But I won’t. Our children are not Lily’s responsibility.” She regarded him with those beautiful, cool blue eyes, and it was a look of such obstinacy that Derek felt himself conceding the battle without even saying a word.
Having a family had always seemed like a reasonable prospect to Derek. A wife and kids. What could be simpler or more pleasant?
Where Crystal was involved, nothing was simple and very little was pleasant. And who knew what a circus act it actually was to juggle three kids? The laundry, the phone calls, the homework, the carpools, the scheduling of sports and music lessons. Hell, you needed an air traffic controller to manage everything.
No wonder Charlie was in trouble. Someone had dropped the ball with her, and she was failing in school. A hard knot of guilt formed in Derek’s stomach. Charlie. His little chip shot.
He checked his watch. They still had an hour and a half to kill before it was time to pick up the kids. He drew on the hood of his jacket, shouldered opened the door and went back out into the roaring storm. He disconnected the cables, closed both engine hoods, then went around to Crystal’s door and yanked it open.
“Get in the truck,” he yelled.
“But why—”
“Get in the damned truck.” He turned away, got in the driver’s seat, put on his seat belt and watched her. Even in the teeth of the storm, she moved with the unhurried grace of a queen, opening her red umbrella and then stepping out of the car. She got into the truck, then folded the umbrella and slid it under the seat.
“Did you leave your keys in the car?” he asked.
“Of course. I’m not stupid, Derek.”
“No,” he said, putting the truck in reverse. “You’re not.” Things would be easier if she was.
He headed west on the river road, the wipers thumping rapidly across the windshield.
“Where are you going?”
“We’ve got an hour to talk,” he said, ignoring her question. “So talk.”
He could feel her glare as she clicked her seat belt in place. “Charlie’s in trouble. Fighting about it for an hour isn’t going to solve anything.”
He glanced over at her and saw no trace of sarcasm in her expression.
“Then let’s not fight.” He wondered if she heard the weariness in his voice. It was exhausting, trying to figure out what to do with a love gone wrong, especially when kids were involved.
With sullen reluctance, the rain let up and finally stopped altogether. Derek turned off the river road and drove up the ramp to the highway. Here at the coast road, the sun was trying to peek through the broody, black-bellied clouds over the churning sea.
The view was spectacular no matter how many times he saw it. He and Sean had grown up in Comfort, and on the weekends they liked to come out to the coast to hang out on the beach or play a round of golf at the seaside links course. As they grew older and went up to Portland for college, they continued to come out here. The highway department’s scenic vista pullout was the perfect place to bring girls for make-out sessions.
The first time he’d dated Crystal, he’d brought her here. It was no accident that he’d chosen the spot today.
He maneuvered the truck along the winding road, finding it deserted except for the occasional darting squirrel or deer heading pointlessly from one side of the road to another. The economic recession had hit the county hard, and its budget troubles showed in the condition of the road. Potholes were patched here and there, guardrails were down or missing altogether. The shoulder of the road was collapsing in places from mudslides. The macadam surface was slick and he could feel the tires of the truck trying to hydroplane. In the burgeoning sunlight, wisps of steam rose from the wet pavement.
Derek tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t lead to a fight. An impossible task with Crystal these days. She was as fragile and brittle as her name implied, and the slightest upset could cause her to shatter. However, with Charlie in trouble, they had a difficult conversation ahead of them.
“So,” he said at last, “what do you make of our conference with your friend?”
“Lily was speaking to us in her capacity as Charlie’s teacher,” she said, “not as my friend. And to be honest, I’m actually glad to have Charlie’s problems out in the open. It’s time to stop fooling ourselves. From our first meeting with Lily last September, it’s been clear that Charlie’s way behind the curve. Now we need to figure out what to do.”
“Charlie never had any problems until Lily’s class.” Derek gritted his teeth. That was going to piss Crystal off. Too bad. This was about Charlie. His daughter, his heart.
“Oh, so you think Lily is the cause of Charlie stealing and being behind in school? Lily is the best teacher our kids have ever had.”
He pulled off at the scenic vista. For a moment, he flashed on a vivid memory of the first time he’d brought Crystal here. She was his beauty queen from Beaverton, he was a hot stick striving for his PGA card and they were in love. She gave up her crown for him and he’d vowed to leave his party-animal ways behind. Their future was golden.
That golden future had been tarnished by the patina of time, of betrayal, of all the myriad strains of trying to stay on his game.
“I’m saying you might want to consider the idea that Lily could actually be part of the problem.”
“That would be so much easier than considering the idea that you might be part of the problem.” She caught his glare and amended, “All right, maybe we’re both part of it. I trust Lily implicitly. When she taught Cameron seven years ago, you had no complaints about her. He flourished in her class.”
“Cameron is a no-brainer. A monkey could have educated him. He was the perfect kid.” Derek wondered if his son knew he thought that. Only this morning, they’d had their usual fight over the usual topic—golf.
“What’s that face?” Crystal asked. She could still read him like a rule book.
“Cam’s pissed at me again,” Derek confessed. “He doesn’t want to play in the tournament this weekend. I don’t get it. He’s a brilliant golfer.” He thumped his hand on the steering wheel. “Maybe he was just trying to get a rise out of me. In fact, now that the rain’s stopped, he’s probably hitting a bucket of balls for practice. Kid can’t stay away from the game.”
“Which shows how much you know about your son,” Crystal said.
“Now you’re telling me he doesn’t like golf.”
“He likes you. He thinks he has to play golf so you’ll give him the time of day.”
“That’s shit.” Derek thought about the strained conversation he’d had with Cameron that morning. The strain had flared into out-and-out hostility from both sides. Somehow, battling his son brought out the worst in him. “I can’t believe he’s fighting me over golf. When I offered to talk to Coach Duncan about it, Cam freaked on me, completely freaked.”
“Don’t talk to Greg Duncan,” Crystal said quickly, sharply.
Derek frowned.
She said, “Let me talk to Cameron—later.” She unhooked her seat belt and got out to pace in front of the truck. He had no choice but to join her. The air was still chilly and smelled of damp asphalt, cedar and madrona. Far below, waves breaking on the rocks threw up rainbows of light. This place used to hold such magic for them. Even the abandoned lighthouse way out on Tillamook Rock, miles offshore, had been part of the spell. It was a famous columbarium where old bones and ashes were put to rest. They used to swear they wanted to be placed there when they died, after growing old together.
“We need to focus on Charlie right now,” Crystal said. “Not Cameron. And not Lily.”
“She’s part of Charlie’s troubles,” Derek pointed out.
“She’s my best friend,” Crystal said.
“Maybe that’s clouding your judgment.”
“Damn it, Derek. Look at the facts. Charlie isn’t reading and she’s been stealing. Lily didn’t cause that. She’s trying to fix it. We need to rethink our plans for the summer.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning Lily wants us to do what’s best for Charlie, not what’s good for your career.”
“Oh, so you’re just going to cancel your plans and stay home, carting the kid to Portland every day to study.”
“I think we should consider it. Sorry if that interferes with your plans.”
He barked out a short laugh. “It doesn’t interfere, honey. It negates them completely. You know I won’t do anything this summer without Charlie.”
“What a shame you and Joan will have to miss out on Hawaii.”
“It’s Jane,” he said automatically, but of course she knew that. “And it’s not so much that missing Hawaii is a problem. I need to play in the majors. How the hell do you think we’re going to pay for things like a private clinic in Portland, along with everything else you claim you need?”
“Maybe if you managed your money better, you wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“You earn huge amounts, Derek, but you spend even more. How many are on your payroll now, a dozen? Twenty? Do you really need to travel with your own personal massage therapist?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. My people are the engine that keeps this train on track. You know that, Crystal. You know.” He aimed a meaningful look at her designer shoes and the diamond pendant glittering at her throat. “Maybe you should lay off the shopping. Ever think of that?”
She glared at him, then glanced at her watch. “We should go. It’s time to pick up the baby at Mrs. Foster’s and Cameron at the country club.” She got back in the truck and put on her seat belt. She was utterly self-possessed, expecting the world to wait on her.
He got in and started up the truck. Steam still rolled off the hood and the asphalt. It was no longer raining, but fog hung thick in the ditches and vales surrounding the road.
“Cameron doesn’t mind hanging around the club,” Derek said, hoping to deflect her attention from who was watching the baby. “Now that Sean works there, they sometimes get in a round together.” He slammed the truck into reverse and peeled out, rear end fishtailing on the slick surface of the road.
“I think Cameron’s been spending too much time with your brother.”
“For God’s sake, Crystal. The kids have a right to get to know their uncle. Cameron likes him. Sean’s good for his golf game.”
“Giving him pointers, like teaching him how to cheat?”
Derek took the next curve a little too fast, swinging onto the shoulder, veering into the gravel along the shoulder. “That was a low blow. Sean’s no cheater.”
“No? Then he was banned from the Asian Tour for…what? Having a bad hair day?”
“For getting mixed up with the wrong woman,” he said. Then a devil inside him made him add, “God knows, I can relate to that.”
“You bastard, you—” She broke off, looking at the road. “You just missed the turnoff into town.”
