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“I’d scare the hell out of them, the way I look with my burns and bandages. No, you go on. It’ll be good for you to clear the air.”
“I’m not sure what to say. I guess I could start by telling them about Charlie.”
“That would be perfect. I have a feeling Bob and Big Mike might have come to blows in the past, so be prepared.”
They said goodbye as she left the parking lot, the dialogue she might have with her parents swirling around in her head. The possibility that she could say something that might make an impact on them was slim. They considered their nightly drinking binges as social drinking. The number of nights Lila had gotten ready for bed on her own as a child outnumbered any when she was actually attended to by an adult.
Recalling one heartbreaking experience, she remembered at about age eight waking up in a dream state, wandering around the house crying, and when the noise woke Elizabeth and she asked Lila what was wrong, all she could say was, “I’m so ugly. I’m so ugly.”
It wasn’t true; she was gangly and awkward, but far from ugly. Something had made her feel that way, and no matter what she did to try to remember, it was elusive, just there at the edge of awareness but not quite.
The retirement community was at the beach in an exclusive area of San Diego. It wasn’t easy to get to, with traffic always horrendous, and then trying to find a place to park where her car wouldn’t either get broken into or towed away another concern. But she pushed forward and arrived in time for afternoon tea, which at the Conner residence meant cocktails andhors d’oeuvres on the terrace that just happened to have an amazing ocean view.
“You should have called,” Elizabeth said, her speech perhaps slightly slurred. “I’d have had something more substantial than cheese and crackers. You look a little thin, dear, is everything alright?”
The words, no, ma’am, nothing is alright were on the tip of Lila’s tongue, but she bit them back. Today would be about Charlie, and if they uncovered anything else in the deal, all the better.
“I actually do have something kind of cool to tell you. It could have been done over the phone, but I wanted to get your opinion about something else, too.”
“What would you like to drink? We have a nice little wine here; it’s actually local. Daddy is fond of California wines, aren’t you, dear?”
Bob Conner lingered on the periphery of the conversation, as he always did when Lila was around. She’d see evidence that he had engaged in groups when photos of them at parties emerged from time to time. But if Lila was in the vicinity, he kept a low profile.
“They’re okay. I like the price.”
“I’ll just have ice water. I’m driving.”
“One drink shouldn’t affect that,” Elizabeth said.
“The girl doesn’t want to drink and drive,” Bob said, shrugging into a sweater.
“Alrighty. Water it is.”
They took their drinks outside. The sun was finally breaking through the clouds, but it was cold, the waves wild, and a fine salt spray was falling over them. Lila was glad she’d worn a warm coat.
“So what’s your news?”
“I’m dating the battalion chief over at Station #34.”
“Oh God, not a Saint,” Bob groaned.
“Yep. Charlie.”
“He’s too old for you.”
“Dad, I’m too old for me. I finally found someone who’s my equal. I hope it goes somewhere.”
“Oh, honey, don’t settle for him. Daddy’s right, he’s too old for you,” Elizabeth said. “Even though the Saints are fine people.”
“You’d say that,” Bob snapped.
“Shut up,” Elizabeth said. “My biggest fear is that I’d die and leave Lila alone. She could do worse.”
“She’d have me,” Bob said.
Cringing, his tone had a familiar, creepy ring to it that always made Lila feel like she’d overstayed her visit.
“Can I ask you a question?”
