Scenes From Today's Scenes: Rumors on Cottage Grove Road

 

I'm trying something new--adding pictures to my work in progress! This is a scene from Rumors on Cottage Grove Road.

Approximately pages 127-132

Vera stood just outside The Three-legged Goat House. She’d practiced yoga before the accident, but not since, mostly because she had enough exercises from her physical therapist, thank you very much, but also because she wasn’t comfortable in tanks that would reveal her scars. She tugged on her long-sleeve t-shirt, knowing she would stand out like Quaker in a disco. Tucking her mat beneath her arm, she told herself to get over it, and strode into the large wooden enclosure.

Goats wandered around, kicking up sawdust, and butting against the other members of the class.

“There you are!” Janine waved her over to a corner where she stood with a few women Vera recognized from the barbecue at Principal Marc’s house. “Do you remember everyone?”

Vera nodded, even though she didn’t. She because Lizzy walked in with Madeline, Ty, and a girl about Ty’s age. Fortunately, the leader also walked and took his place at the head of the class.

Janine and her friends spread out their mats. Vera did the same but made sure she was as far away from Lizzy and Madeline as possible.

“Hello everyone, my name is Jose.” Jose had a Michelangelo-statue-worthy body, a long black braid, and a commanding voice. “I’d like to welcome you all to The Three-Legged Goat House. As you can see, all of our goats have four legs, so you won’t need to worry about tipping them over when you fall. And, if I’m doing my job right, more than a few of you will fall. I’m here today to test your balance and help you discover your inner kid.”

Vera’s gaze slid over to Lizzy. She looked good. Happy. Older. Madeline’s eyes connected with Vera’s and lit with recognition.

Madeline leaned over to whisper something to Lizzy.

Vera’s breath caught. She scooped up her mat and bolted. She nearly tripped over a goat with only one horn.

“That’s Horny,” Jose called out after her. “He won’t hurt you. Hey, the class hasn’t even started yet.” He heaved out a sigh about the same time Vera darted through the exit.

“Oh well, this practice isn’t for everyone,” she heard Jose say. “It takes a special breed to commune with goats.”

Two hours later, Vera found herself parked in front of Hoag Hospital. After brushing away her tears, she pulled in one deep breath and then another. What was she doing here? How had she gotten here? Now what? When she’d started driving, all she knew was that she couldn’t go back to her dad’s house. If Lizzy had followed her—and she wouldn’t put it past her ex-mother-in-law—and saw Dad, Lizzy would know.

Image from Sunset Ridge Park, Newport Beach Real Estate

She probably already knew.

Maybe she should just tell Tim. Introduce herself to Ty. If they weren’t interested in her, she’d try and rebuild her life without them. Lizzy glanced out at the sun sinking into the tree tops. Well, she was here, she might as well make the most of it. After climbing from the car and hitting the locks, Vera took the path through the neighborhood leading to Sunset Ridge Park.

The park lived up to its name. High on a hill, it provided an amazing view of the coastline and the sun sinking into a pink puddle out on the horizon. A baseball game was in progress on the field. Children scampered and raced around the play structure. Vera ignored all the other people and hoped they would extend her the same courtesy. She sank onto a bench to watch the water swallow the sun.

The sound of a ball hitting a bat rang out. A small crowd cheered. Gulls wheeled and cried over her head. All of these noises could have come from a hundred miles. She had moved a hundred miles away and her past still found her. How did that even happen?

She wasn’t a religious person, but maybe God was trying to tell her something. Maybe Ty needed her. Maybe she needed Ty. A dozen unbidden memories swamped her. Driving to the hospital, panting with contractions, thinking she would die from the pain. A nurse handing her the red squalling baby. Tim grinning and crying behind the nurse, wiping his nose with the back of his blue-plastic glove. Her breasts swelling and leaking every time she heard a baby cry. Driving away on a dark night, leaving only a note for Tim, and one last glance at Ty.

She’d been too young. Too dumb. Too much of everything she hated about herself and not enough of who she knew she couldn’t be.

“Ronny?”

Vera started and twisted around.

Lance, dripping with sweat, jogged her way. His smile dimmed when he saw her face. “Hey, I thought that was you.” He flopped onto the bench beside her. “I’d give you hug, but as you can see, I’m gross.” He waved at his soaking tank top and equally sopping shorts. He looked good to her. Better than good.

“It’s good to see you,” he said. “What are you doing here?” He dropped a baseball mitt between them.

Vera studied it. “Baseball?”

“Sure. It’s fun.”

“I didn’t know you did fun?”

He upped the wattage of his smile. “It’s new. Hey, I thought you moved to Lake Arrowhead.”

Vera blinked back tears.

“Not working out?”

When she didn’t answer, he pressed, “It can’t be that bad.”

When she began to cry in earnest, Lance wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Come on.” He stood and offered her a hand.

Vera sniffed, wiped away a tear, and looked at his hand. “Where are we going?”

“The Shake Shack.”

“Ice cream?”

He waved his hand in front of her. “Isn’t ice cream the answer when girls question life?”

“I’m not a girl anymore.”

Confusion flickered across his face.

“I’m female…that’s not what I meant. I’m a grown up. I need to,” she gulped, “be responsible.”

“Be responsible tomorrow. Eat ice cream today.”

Vera gave him a tentative smile. “That’s a very un-doctory thing to say.”

He shrugged. “So, sue me. I have malpractice insurance.”

She put her hand in his and let him lead her to his convertible BMW. A few minutes later they were speeding south on the Coast Highway with the top down and the wind toying with Vera’s hair.

“Did you know the coast of southern California was occupied 9,000 years before the arrival of the Spanish missionaries?” Lance asked her.

“Why do I care?” Vera had to hold her hair back to keep it from wiping in her face.

He shrugged. “You were feeling old. I told you something that should make you feel young.”

“I already knew I was younger than the California Coast.”

“You’re younger than me.”

“You’re pretty responsible.”

He sobered. “I have to be.”

“Me, too.”

Image from Shake Shack, Newport Beach, Facebook

The Shake Shack sits high on a bluff above the Crystal Cove State Park and Beach. The bright yellow one-story building has one window in the front for ordering, and one window on the side for pick-ups. A smattering of wooden tables fills the patio overlooking the ocean. Vera remembered coming here as a kid with her dad when it was his custody weekend…when and if he remembered. Vera sighed and admitted to herself that she came from a long line of irresponsible people.

Maybe it wasn’t all her fault she was a lousy parent. It wasn’t as if she’d had good examples.

Lance pulled into the line of cars waiting for a place to park. “Want to order me a mud-pie shake?” He opened the console, pulled out his wallet, and fished out a twenty. “Get whatever will make you happy.”

She laughed. “I can get my own drink.”

“I know you can. But you can also let me try to make you smile. Also, get me a burger and fries and get what you want.”

Vera plucked the twenty from his fingers and climbed from the car. By the time she’d ordered and picked up their food, Lance had found a place to park and selected a table with a view of the sunset.

“Are you going to tell me what set you off today?” Lance asked.

She told him about Tim, Ty, Madeline, and Lizzy. “I had worked so hard to put my past behind me and suddenly, there they all are to remind me of my biggest mistake.”

Lance didn’t say anything for a moment, then, softly, “I’m glad my mom doesn’t think I’m her biggest mistake.”

“Oh geeze, that’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Maybe if you got to know your son, you would stop thinking of him as a mistake.”

“He’ll hate me. They all will.”

“So, let them hate you. What’s that American saying, Haters gotta hate?”

“But they’re not haters. They’re good people. All of them. Even worse, they’re good-doers.”

“Oh,” Lance gave a dramatic shudder. “Good-doers are the worst.”

“I know, right?” Vera selected a sweet potato fry and dipped it in ranch dressing. “What a minute. You’re a do-gooder.” She popped the fry into her mouth. “Hypocrite,” she snarled.

“As a good-doer,” Lance said primly, “I feel I can speak out for my kind and tell you that these good people will want you to confess.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. There’s nothing that a good-doer loves more than learning that the astray want to change their ways and join the good-doing team.”

Vera swallowed her fry and felt it scratch her throat on the way down her pipes. “Maybe I don’t want to join their team.”

Lance put down his burger and studied her. “What about your music therapy?”

She felt as if he’d slapped her. “What about it?”

“Isn’t that all about helping people?”

“Well, of course, but—”

“But what? Just not those people?”

Vera ducked her head. “I guess.”

“I have news for you. When you decide to spend your life helping people, you have to start with those closest to you.”

“My family.”

“Yourself.”

Image from Wikipedia (Newport Beach)