“I…”
What could she say? That her loss didn’t come close to Caitlin’s?
That she hadn’t loved Tom?
I did once, she told herself. I really did.
But it was the betrayal that had hurt, that she couldn’t confront him with because he was already gone, the anger that she hadn’t been able to let go of.
Until she’d met Danny.
“I do,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s the same. What you had…” She shuddered.
That everything you had could be taken away in an instant, she understood that.
“Losing a child… I can’t imagine that.”
“I wish you could’ve met him,” Caitlin said. “Alex. He was… he was such a fun kid. Happy. He was obsessed with trucks. He knew all the models. He’d shout them out when we were driving. ‘Peterbuilt!’ That was his favorite.” She laughed. “I think he mostly just liked yelling ‘Peterbuilt.’ I’d buy him Hot Wheels, Legos, Tonka Trucks… his room looked like a toy truck stop. Except without the lot lizards.” She laughed again.
Why did Gary think I’d be good at this, Michelle thought? What was she supposed to do? Give Caitlin a hug? Offer words about how God must have wanted an angel? It was horrible, and tragic, and senseless, and there were no good words, no comfort she knew how to give.
“I took all the family pictures down. At the house.” Caitlin was no longer smiling. “I just couldn’t look at them anymore. Sometimes I feel like I’d be better off if I couldn’t remember them at all.”
Michelle thought about it and realized that she’d never seen a photo of Caitlin’s husband or son at the house in River Oaks. The place was so carefully decorated it felt like a set, as opposed to a home. But she hadn’t found that particularly unusual. A lot of people she’d known in LA kept their houses that way. The personal stuff was elsewhere, in a bedroom or family room, maybe. Offstage.
“You know what’s funny?” Caitlin said suddenly. “All the times I’ve been here, I’ve never put my feet in the water.”
Michelle felt a wave of relief. This was something she could handle. “Well, why don’t we take care of that?”
x x x
The beaches in Venice and Santa Monica were very wide. Michelle thought she recalled reading that this breadth was artificial, created by dredging and massive amounts of sand brought in from elsewhere. But she wasn’t sure.
The two of them shuffled through the deep sand to the water’s edge, where the sand was packed and wet. The sun was low now, breaking through the bank of clouds hanging offshore. A runner jogged by. A half-dozen people did yoga on the flat sand, a class, it looked like. She could hear the congas and the bongos of the Venice drum circle in the distance, celebrating the sunset.
She thought about the day she’d met Danny, on the beach in Puerto Vallarta. She’d had a couple of margaritas. The two of them had a few more. It was the kind of thing you did on a vacation, wasn’t it? Meet a good-looking stranger. Have some drinks. Go back to your hotel room together.
She shivered now, thinking about it. She’d been lonely. Drunk. Just wanting someone to make her feel good.
So incredibly foolish.
On the other hand, it wasn’t all that much to ask for. Was it?
And to be fair, Danny hadn’t wanted trouble either, had no idea he’d tangled her up in Gary’s game. He was just looking for a good time. Maybe he’d even been lonely too, like she had been. She’d never asked.
Danny, you asshole, she thought. Sure, Gary would’ve figured out another angle, but Danny had made it so easy.
Why did he have to take stupid risks? Like he needed the buzz?
How was he doing right now?
Caitlin exhaled with an audible sigh. Kicked off her Tory Burch thong sandals. Scrunched her toes into the sand.
“Tell me why I stay in Houston again?”
“I… the weather?”
Caitlin threw back her head and laughed. A studied gesture, maybe. But this was still the liveliest Michelle had ever seen her.
“I don’t know, maybe I’ll just pack up the house and retire to my condo out here. Just… start over.”
Seeing Caitlin, her face lit up by the orange glow of the sunset like some illuminated renaissance painting, Michelle wished she had her camera. It was a beautiful shot.
She felt a sudden rush of protectiveness. It surprised her. She hadn’t gotten into this expecting to care. Not about Caitlin. But whatever Gary had in mind for Safer America, she couldn’t assume that Caitlin was safe.
More realistic to assume the opposite.
But what could she do about it?
“Is there something stopping you?” she asked.
“Just laziness, I guess. Starting over in a new place… what would I do with myself?”
“I don’t know. Just… be there for a while? You can take some time to figure that out.”
“Maybe I will.”
Caitlin walked toward the lapping waves, and kept walking until the water was up to her calves. Stood there facing the ocean while the waves surged and ebbed.
She turned back to Michelle. “This is perfect!”
“Watch out,” Michelle said.
The sneaker wave rose and crashed into Caitlin’s back, almost knocking her over. Caitlin shrieked, laughing like a five-year-old. She stumbled out of the water, still laughing. “Well, so much for this dress,” she said. “And, oh hell, there goes my sandal.”
The receding wave had pulled one of her designer flip-flops into the surf, where it bobbed like a toy boat. Hiking up the skirt of her dress, Caitlin waded back into the water and snatched up the sandal. “Well, I wanted to get my feet wet,” she said.
By the time they got back to the boardwalk, the last light was fading to deep indigo. The hotel was a short distance away, lit up by small white bulbs that looked like oversized Christmas lights.
“So, for tomorrow-”
Caitlin waved her hand. “Really, you don’t have to worry about it. Just shadow me and be ready to take down notes if I promise somebody something.”
“I mean, do you want to, I don’t know, maybe do a little hiking in the morning? Or some yoga? I’m sure the concierge can arrange for a private instructor if you’d like.”
“Oh.” Caitlin sounded vaguely surprised. “Well, I guess the yoga sounds nice. So long as I don’t get so sore I can’t get out of my chair at the event.”
“Spare some change?”
He was standing under a streetlight. Homeless guy, Michelle thought automatically. Skinny, wearing a filthy T-shirt and torn pants, face caked with black grime and crusted sores. She shook her head and turned to go.
“A few dollars so I can get something to eat?”
“Sorry,” Caitlin said. “I don’t have anything.”
He stared at her. “You don’t have anything? You don’t have anything?” He started laughing.
Michelle put her hand on Caitlin’s arm. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“Fuck you, you stupid bitch. Fuck you!” He took a few steps toward them, face bright with rage, his hands balled into fists, driving his fists into his thighs. “I’ve got something. I’ve got something for you. You want it in your pussy? You want it up your ass? You fucking filthy cunt, I’ll fuck you till you bleed!”
Michelle raised her arms, palms out, legs braced, the defensive posture she’d been taught that said she wasn’t going to start anything, but she was ready if she had to.
He was probably harmless. Most of them were.
“You don’t want to get into trouble, do you?” she said to him. “We’re going now.” She took a sideways step toward the hotel.
Caitlin didn’t move.
“Caitlin. Let’s go.”
Caitlin nodded rapidly. “I’m sorry,” she said, to Michelle or to the man, Michelle wasn’t sure which.
Michelle steered Caitlin behind her. “Don’t worry. Just walk away. I’ve got your back.”
She could hear Caitlin’s rapid breathing behind her. She took a few steps backward, shielding Caitlin, watching the man clench and unclench his fists.