The Other Fish in the Sea (Grab Your Pole, #2) Page 7

  “I didn’t either…but I totally wanna see that picture,” Jeff put in and then received a backhanded smack on the arm from Kate who was rolling her eyes.

  Brandon and Derek were chuckling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement, but when I looked at Tristan in amused question, he raised his brows at me and with a resigned eye-roll at having been caught, he chuckled and said, “Yeah, sorry, Baby, me too.”

  Melissa giggled at them and rolled her eyes as well and then said, “You guys are all pigs, but getting back to what I was saying, yes, I was born in Boston…we only moved out here what, five or six years ago? Something like that…anyway, you guys all know how my parents are and everything, right?” The seven of us who know her all nodded that yes, we are aware of how Melissa’s parents fall squarely on the hoity-toity side of the fence so she continued. “Okay well, my grandma was nothing like my mom. She totally knew how to have fun and as we’ve already established, she was gorgeous and did some tasteful nude modeling, but she was also completely lucky in love.

  “However, her husbands had this unfortunate habit of dying on her so after the third one bit the dust, she just gave up the whole husband thing…anyway, even though she didn’t marry any of them for their money, they all had plenty of it so with all the life insurance she inherited and the money she made modeling, my grandma ended up with a freaking fortune. Her first husband was one of her photographers and he ended up dying barely a month after they were married in a boating accident when he was doing a photo shoot for some other magazine. Her second husband was my mom’s dad but he died from a congenital heart condition when my mom was like seven or something, and then my grandma married a man she said made her laugh, but he came from one of those old, Blue Blood type families and moved her back East to be close to his parents. I think that’s where my mom picked up her opinion that money and status are what matters in life and chose to marry my dad because of his family’s wealth, not because she loved him…not that any of that really matters though I guess. So um…where was I…?” Melissa asked herself, having totally talked herself off track.

  “No fuckin’ clue…I’m still hung up on wantin’ to see that picture,” Brandon said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, when you say tasteful, are you talkin’ partially nude orrr…?” Jeff asked with his hands palms up like he was weighing something in them.

  “Just ignore him,” Kate said, waving her hand in that “pretend he isn’t even here” kind of way, getting a goofy lip curl along with a small scoff from Jeff in return.

  “So anyway, I would go stay with my grandma while my parents were traveling or hosting some function a kid wasn’t welcome at and my grandma would let me actually be a kid…you know, play in the mud and use my hands to eat spaghetti and stuff like that. But then I wanted to do the same thing at home and of course my parents wouldn’t allow it. They actually hired an au pair to sit with me instead and started limiting the time my grandma got to see me because they felt like she was a bad influence on me. I mean God forbid I grow up and not know the difference between a dinner fork and salad fork, or, how to actually use either one…so ridiculous,” Melissa said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, exhibiting for the first time to me that she might not be so indifferent to her parents’ aristocratic ideals as I’d thought.

  “But then the shit really hit the fan when I was like eleven and my grandma let me have bubblegum, which I wasn’t supposed to have because of my stupid braces, and it got all stuck in my hair because I fell asleep with it in my mouth. I ended up needing to have it cut out and my mom freaked because it was so short and said it made me look like a boy, which of course made me cry and ruined my self image… So, trying to make everything better, my grandma took me to get my ears pierced without telling my parents what she was planning. Then she showed me part of her portfolio and let me get all dressed up in boudoir-type stuff so I could see that having short hair doesn’t have to make you look like a boy. It totally helped, and made me feel so much better about myself, but my parents were furious. I mean they were so outraged that they wouldn’t even talk to my grandma for more than a month and literally ignored her at Christmas that year. Even when they started talking again though, all I can remember was all this miserable tension.

  “Now they won’t admit it, but I know we moved out here when my mom got pregnant again because my parents didn’t want my grandma anywhere near me anymore or the new baby. And even though it was a hard pregnancy and my grandma offered to come stay and help out, my mom always said it wasn’t a good time for company…you know, like her mother is just regular old company, right? Anyway, my brother was born really premature and had to spend like three weeks in intensive care and for a little while, they thought he might not even make it, but my mom still refused to let my grandma come out even to just meet him. I asked why and my mom told me the reason was because my grandma was “unstable” and couldn’t be trusted around a baby, and that if I wanted to, I could write letters to her but for my own safety, I couldn’t actually talk to her. Even being a freaking twelve year old I knew that was a load of crap so I would call my grandma late at night so we could talk and not get caught.

  “One night after my brother was totally out of the woods but not living at home yet, my grandma asked me how he was doing and I told her she should just come out anyway and make a surprise visit but stay in a hotel, just so she could at least see him, you know? She told me she would try to do that but she ended up dying from falling down a flight of stairs before she did. Before she died though, my grandma was in the hospital and my mom would call and pretend to be concerned, and she told her that she would come and see her but my brother was too “fragile” to leave alone. You know, because he was in a hospital with a fully trained medical staff and all…but my grandma wasn’t stupid. She knew what my parents thought of her and that my mom had been lying to her and keeping her from seeing my brother and me, so when the will was read and my mom found out my grandma had disowned her, she replied in kind and now pretends like my grandma never even existed…so, that’s it,” Melissa finished and shrugged her shoulders again, like she was back to being resigned to living with things the way they were. And I can’t really blame her I guess…I mean there’s really not a whole hell of a lot she can do, you know?

  “Good God, Melissa…you really weren’t kidding about it being a sad story…I mean, I know there’s nothing you can do about it, but still…” I told her and shook my head, trying to be empathetic.

  “It is what it is, you know? The way I look at it is that at least I had time with my grandma and got to know her a little. And really, you guys, my parents aren’t bad people or anything, they just want what they think is best for themselves and my brother and me. Besides, since we moved out here and my grandma’s gone, they’ve eased up a little. I mean, they wanted to put me in private school but they caved when I threw a huge fit and threatened to cut my hair off again, they talked me into running for student council and cheerleading because they think it’ll look good on college applications and I really didn’t want to do either, but I found out I love cheering, and plus I get to go to parties and on little vacations like this…of course that’s just because bragging about their “socially desirable” daughter makes them look good to their country club cronies and ultimately, you know that’s all that matters,” she said and laughed at the ridiculousness of what her parents deem important.

  By an unspoken accord, we teased Melissa about her social desirability and every so often, Jeff would bring up her grandma’s picture again, making us all laugh and eradicating the last of the melancholy Melissa’s story had left us with. And once that somber mood lifted, we were able to settle into and enjoy the mellow one Brandon had lapsed into hours ago and despite Julia’s efforts, he’d managed to return to. It was around eleven before we all went our separate ways for sleep and/or whatnot. Kate was beat so she chose sleep in one of the tent rooms, Jeff and a few assorted teen cousins along with MaryAnn decided to hang out and play ca
rds in the “living room” part of the tent, Pete, Jillian, Melissa, Julia, and Bridget stayed by the fire and continued listening to Brandon who was still quietly playing his guitar, and Tristan and I opted for a little whatnot in his bus.

  Now, technically, non-blood related boys and girls aren’t supposed to share sleeping space but, no one’s really going to check to see where we all end up. Even so, I’m sure Pete will end up in the “boy room” with Jeff and Kate, who really will just sleep tonight, and Tristan set an alarm for 4:00 I think so I’ll eventually find my way back to the “girl room” with Melissa and maybe Jillian. That is if Jill decides to not sleep in the motorhome and crashes in the tent instead.

  And before you even ask, the answer is yes. There was a fair amount of leeway granted and taken advantage of because really, Tristan is seriously one phenomenal bunkmate. I’m just sayin’…

  4.

  What Makes A Guy Perfect

  Yesterday when my uncle said that my dad is “real good about hittin’ it right at seven,” he wasn’t joking. Nor was he kidding about how loud the music is. I swear we could’ve had speakers and a subwoofer in the tent with us.

  Typically, I’m not a morning person, but out here? Yeah, I totally make an exception and I woke with a huge grin on my face the second I heard my dad’s choice for today’s opening song. He usually chooses songs that really get your blood pumping and you could say mine was certainly doing that and then some about thirty seconds later when I climbed out of the tent and saw Tristan. He was stretching his arms, neck, and back, and jumping a little like he was preparing for a boxing match. It’s the same thing he does to loosen up the muscles in his splendiferous body and get his blood flowing before swimming. It’s freaking hot. He wasn’t fully dressed (God, I love the desert) and he was wearing a bandana on his head like a drool-worthy pirate so I seriously didn’t need Mötley Crüe to tell me to “Kickstart My Heart” because mine was already running about a hundred miles per hour with no signs of reducing speed in the near future. Already breaking the sound barrier, my heart hit warp speed when my sexy and uber-amped up boyfriend stretched and arched his way over to give me a good morning kiss that also made my blood boil. Being that I’d just woken up, I might’ve shied away from kissing him, but I was smart and already took a swig of Scope on my way out of the tent. Good thinking, huh?

  “Ahh, I just love the smell of gasoline in the morning,” Jillian said, walking over to us from our RV.

  She was already fully geared up in her Monster Energy riding apparel, which includes a faux, black and green Mohawk glued onto her helmet and wicked looking riding boots. Not that her Phoenix Phina Tall Doc Marten boots that she wears constantly aren’t wicked looking. Actually, I have a pair of Docs, too, but mine are just plain cool and I don’t wear them like they’re surgically attached to my feet like she does. I mean I’m not much into brand name stuff, but you just gotta appreciate shoes that not only have mass character, but are so well made you can actually put them in your will, you know?

  “Smells like victory,” Pete said, completing Jillian’s altered quote from the movie Apocalypse Now as he crawled out of the tent, dressed and ready as well.

  Unable to resist, Tristan had mumbled the rest of the quote against my lips at the same time and was now laughing that Pete had said it too. However, I was half expecting Jill to finally put Pete in his place like she’s wanted to but has been refraining from doing each time he’s done something like this. She didn’t. She only rolled her eyes and looked mildly exasperated when she gave him a high-five and then turned to face Tristan and me.

  “Hey Mad Max, you ready?” Jillian asked Tristan.

  His eyes were locked on mine when she’d asked so I was perfectly aware of the precise moment he went from visualizing the albeit eight-time Oscar nominated, but completely disturbing Vietnam War movie to visualizing late last night—or more correctly, early this morning. Jilly’s “name of the day” for Tristan was more spot on than she or anyone else aside from God and you could ever know. He and I both knew she was calling him Mad Max because of the movie by the same name, and then the sequel to it being The Road Warrior which takes place in a post-apocalyptic desert where everyone is searching and fighting for food, water, and gas among other things. However, the third and final installment of that movie franchise is Beyond Thunderdome. And well, although no one knows we call it this, and as surprising as this may be, Jeff is still unaware of it too, we’ve turned Thunderdome into another euphemism just like baseball, but this one, Tristan and I have kept entirely between us. Anyway, that’s why I had to bite my tongue and look away when he answered her with deep pooling, lapis-blue eyes and a sort of double entendre.

  “I am indeed.”

  “Aren’t we gonna wait for Camie and everyone else?” Pete asked, clearly not understanding how things out here work, which is every man, woman and child for himself.

  “No,” my sister replied indignantly and gave him a look that said he could benefit from wearing a straight jacket for a bit.

  “Don’t worry about it, we’ll catch up later…or not. No big deal, you guys go have fun,” I offered in reassurance.

  “Bye Baby, see ya later,” Tristan said after giving me another kiss that had me looking around for a fire extinguisher. Then he pulled on his jersey, grabbed his helmet and followed Jillian and Pete over to where the toys were.

  By the way, I absolutely L-O-V-E it when he calls me baby. I swear, if you could visualize a word, the way he calls me baby is what adoration looks like. I’ve seen what that looks like because Jeff looks at Kate that way rather frequently. Oh, I know how to explain it better! The way Tristan calls me baby is like a caress that spreads over me and goes deeper than my skin. Pretty freaking awesome, huh? Anyway, I love it!

  I had to giggle a little to myself when Pete, who’s never ridden or even been to the desert before and actually bought himself a quad Tuesday night, saw Jill climb onto a 125cc motorcycle. The look on his face could be said to be startled, but I think he was more shocked. I’m sure he was thinking that because she’s a girl and that’s kind of a big bike, she would’ve been on a small quad. I’m thinking, oh “Lonely Pete,” never underestimate a Barbie doll who wears MX boots by the name of Maverick in the color Bones Black, named as such for the hellish looking crossbones stamped onto them.

  As the three of them were just riding out of camp, Jeff slowly made his way out of the tent.

  “That your sister?” He asked, watching them while he stretched his back out.

  Mind you, this was not being conducted in the yummy way Tristan had done it in. Jeff looked much more like your grandpa would when he first wakes up, so, of course, I’m trying to not laugh.

  “Yeah.”

  “I know Tristan does, but does Pete know he’s runnin’ with the devil?” Jeff asked through another yawn.

  “If he doesn’t already, he’s about to find out,” I answered, seeing Jillian look behind her to where Pete is lagging.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Watch… She’s gonna fly like a bat outta hell in about ten seconds,” I told him confidently. Pete is being smart and cautious by getting the feel of his new toy, and she’d approve, but Jill isn’t about to wait around for him to do it.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know her…as soon as she sees Derek and Brandon over there, she’ll bail on Pete and Tristan.”

  Sure enough, the second Jillian got a glimpse of Derek; she broke to the right and took off like a winged demon without looking back.

  “Damn, she’s good,” Jeff said as we watched her catch a fair amount of air going over a dune before disappearing from sight on the other side.

  “Yep. Are Kate and Melissa still sleeping?”

  “Katy is, but I think I heard Melissa movin’ around.”

  “Yes, Melissa is moving around…how could I not be with all the noise?” She said, stumbling through the open door of the tent.

  The noise she’s referring to w
ould be all the engines, not my dad’s music. He has to play it loud for anyone to hear it over the constant motor revving, which began almost immediately after the first song started.

  Now I’m going to assume that although it’s a lot of fun for me, you don’t want to hear about my day riding around the dunes, so I’ll just say that we all got pretty dirty and had a great time doing it. Being that it’s Thanksgiving; the moms, aside from mine as she’s being smart in not wearing herself out by doing too much, only went out for about an hour or so in the morning and were back by 11:00 to start getting food ready and relieving the dads from baby-sitting the younger kids who only ride around camp. Kate and Melissa shared Tristan’s mom’s quad, which was fine because for some odd reason, Kate didn’t do a whole lot of riding and when she did, she stayed out of the dunes. And Melissa, who is new to riding as well, hung back with Pete so they could both stay safe but still ride and have fun.

  Anyway, Thanksgiving dinner isn’t really served out here the way it is if you were at home. I suppose that’s kind of obvious, but what I mean is that we don’t all sit down together, say a prayer of thanks to God while holding hands and then the head of the house carves the turkey. No. What we do is more like Darwinism. You know, survival of the fittest. In fact, it’s not uncommon for a bloody battle to break out over the last of the dark meat or the last piece of my Aunt Dee’s pecan pie so you could probably liken the way we spend this holiday to “Lord of the Flies” as well.

  First of all, every RV puts out one part of the meal like a Vegas buffet. I think we’re the dessert station this year. And someone usually does say some kind of blessing over the food, but riding all day makes you pretty damned hungry so if you’re not present when everything is put out, then too bad so sad. With that in mind, at about three in the afternoon most everyone was already back at camp and hovering around the RVs like locusts. By the time dinner was “served,” pretty much everyone was ravenous. I was giggling to myself because the way everyone was scarfing their food down totally reminded me of how Phineas and Ferb eat. Or, like it was feeding time at the zoo. Needless to say, we ate a ton, took a short nap and then went for a night ride, making sure we were back before Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” was over.