In Your Room (10 page)

As he approached the incline, Charlie switched to the highest gear and pumped his legs so hard he lifted off the seat. Cresting the top of the hill, the view unfolded on each side of the road, Los Angeles to the south and the San Fernando Valley to the north. He had heard of the infamous Mulholland Drive in songs and movies, but now he was experiencing it for himself, firsthand.

He’d eventually found his way up there through trial and error and was now heading west toward the ocean, curious how far the road would take him. He could have easily looked it up on Google maps, but that would have taken all the fun out of it.

Even though it was the middle of the day, there were barely any cars on the road. He coasted along, releasing the handlebars, and gently guided the bike around the windy curves with his knees. There was something meditative about riding like that, above it all, like he was the only one in the entire city.

Beep! Beep!

He quickly glanced behind his shoulder and saw a black SUV slowly following behind. Seeing there was no oncoming traffic, he waved his left arm, signaling for it to pass.

The car pulled up next to him and the passenger window rolled down. It was Celeste.

“Need a ride?”

“Very funny.”

She sped up a little, but Charlie kept pace. “So this is what you do on that bike all day long.”

“Should I be worried that you’re stalking me, Celeste?” Charlie teased.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” A car pulled up behind them and tapped on the horn. “Follow me.”

Before he could protest, she had pulled away and sped up, but she made sure never to be so far ahead that he couldn’t see her. A few miles down she turned left onto a dirt road marked Private and followed it several hundred yards to where it ended at what could only be described as an estate. It looked like a sprawling stone English manor, only it was surrounded by lemon, orange, and avocado trees.

“What is this place?” Charlie asked.

“My dad’s,” Celeste said, heading toward the front gate.

Charlie didn’t move and just stood there, holding his bike.

“Don’t worry, no one’s home. He and wife number three are in Bora-Bora—or some other tropical paradise.”

The front door opened out onto a giant, high-ceilinged foyer that felt like it belonged more in a hotel lobby than the entrance to a home. Celeste walked diagonally across, past a gurgling fountain, through some French doors, and
into an industrial-size kitchen that had multiple stoves and refrigerators.

“How many people live here?”

“One or two, depending on whether he’s going through a divorce or not.” Celeste grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Want one?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” She seemed so blasé about the whole thing, like she wasn’t even talking about her own father.

“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour. Trust me, it’s way more fun when he’s not around.”

She led the way to a bedroom that was even larger than the kitchen. It had a king-size bed in the middle, with low-lying tables next to it, and a giant flat-screen television that took up most of the back wall. The deck beyond had several lounge chairs and another fountain. “Master bedroom,” she announced, “and there are about ten more just like it, so moving on.”

They went through a door that took them out to a lush garden with every kind of flower imaginable. Just beyond, there was a pool with matching padded lounge chairs lined up on either side of it, and a cabana in the back that had a bar and a daybed inside. “Now this is why I come when he’s not around,” she said, dumping her bag in the cabana. “But we’re not done yet. There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

He had no idea where she was taking him—and whether it was a good idea that he follow her—but he did anyway. They crossed the yard through a side door that led directly into a garage, which was bigger than his house. Five gleaming Porsches in five different colors stood parked in a row. Even the floor sparkled, like they’d walked into a private showroom for the über-rich.

“Pick one.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Pick a color.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, a little uncertain. “Red.”

Celeste opened a cabinet in the back, which housed a small safe. She punched in a few numbers and the door opened. “Same combination every time. It’s just too easy.” She reached in and took out a set of keys, tossing them to Charlie. “You can drive shift, right?”

“Clearly you don’t like your dad, but that doesn’t mean I want to be responsible for a hundred-thousand-dollar car. No way.” He handed the keys back to her.

“Just admit it,” Celeste said, dangling the keys in front of him. “You’re intimidated. By the horsepower.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Charlie said.

“I think it is.” She took a step closer and stared him down, twirling the key ring around her finger. “But I also think you should live a little. My dad will never know anyway, for whatever that’s worth to you.”

Whether it was the temptation of Mulholland’s inviting, winding curves, or the sweet alluring scent of Celeste’s perfume, Charlie snatched the keys back and pressed unlock. The car beeped twice and the lights flashed, like it was coming to life. “Get in.”

“That’s better,” she said, sitting down on the passenger side.

Charlie slipped into the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel. Checking out all the features on the dashboard, he thought it was just like being in a cockpit, with compact gauges and controls neatly aligned within reach, each with its defined purpose to optimize the performance of this finely tuned vehicle. He tapped his feet on the brakes, gas, and clutch, making sure they were all in the right place, and put the gear in neutral. Just as he was about to turn the key in the ignition, he heard a clanking noise coming from outside. “What was that?”

“I didn’t hear anything. Let’s go.”

The clanking resumed. Now they both heard it.

“Shit. It’s Wednesday, isn’t it?” Celeste realized, getting out of the car. “Mission aborted,” she whispered to Charlie. “It’s Rosalinda.”

“Your stepmother?”

She looked at him strangely. “No, the housekeeper.”

A stout, gray-haired woman of about sixty who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall greeted them when they got back to the kitchen.

“Ay! Celestina!” She embraced Celeste, muttering something in Spanish Charlie couldn’t understand.

Celeste hugged her back and responded, also in Spanish, then pointed at Charlie, saying his name.

Rosalinda came up to him and gripped his arm with her coarse hand, staring up at him, repeating,
“Muy guapo.”

“What’s she saying?” Charlie asked, unsure how to respond.

“She thinks you’re handsome,” Celeste explained. “Try not to let it go to your head.”

He shot her a knowing look. “Coming from you, I’ll take that under advisement.”

A few minutes later a young Hispanic guy wearing headphones came into the kitchen holding a mop. His eyes lit up when he saw Celeste standing in front of him. “Wow. Look who’s here.”

“Don’t I get a hug?” she asked, sauntering over to him.

The guy glanced over at Charlie before obliging.

Charlie stood awkwardly waiting for them to finish.

“Jose, this is Charlie, Charlie this is Jose. He’s Rosalinda’s grandson.”

“Hanging by the pool since papa’s away?” Jose asked.

“You know me too well. Come with us,” she said, tugging on his sleeve. That seemed to be her signature move.

“Yeah, and you explain that to Rosalinda while she’s slaving away on her own.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, unbuttoning her blouse, revealing a hot pink bikini top underneath. “You know where to find us. Ready?” she asked Charlie.

As soon as they got to the pool Celeste unbuttoned her shorts and shimmied them off by shaking her hips until they fell by her feet, leaving her in just her bikini. “That’s better, don’t you think?”

She stood in front of Charlie waiting for a response but he had nothing to say. He should have been drooling. He should have been playing “real or fake?” the way Teddy had instructed. After all, if Celeste was into it, who was he to argue?

But there was a problem. For some ridiculous reason—one completely incomprehensible to Charlie—there was nothing sexy about the way Celeste was standing there, practically naked, outside her father’s empty mansion. Instead, it just reminded him of Sylvia and all the wrong reasons he had gone out with her in the first place.

“I’m going to take off.”

“You can’t leave. We just got here,” Celeste stated plainly, like that was reason enough.

Charlie shrugged. “What can I say?” He started walking around the pool toward the house.

“Fine,” Celeste said. “But I know where you live.”

“That’s right, you do,” Charlie said, softening. “So I’ll be seeing you.”

• • •

Snowpeak99:
hi.

Mollypop:
hi back.

Snowpeak99:
you’re right on time.

Mollypop:
yeah, i can’t help it…makes me kind of uncool sometimes…

Snowpeak99:
punctuality’s an undervalued character trait.

Snowpeak99:
so, i’ve been wondering…what’s the deal with the stars?

Mollypop:
what stars??

Snowpeak99:
the ones on your ceiling. i’m staring up at them now. just turned out the lights so they’re really glowing.

Mollypop:
oh, those! i’m so used to them i forgot they were there….

Mollypop:
they were a gift from my dad.

Snowpeak99:
are your parents divorced?

Mollypop:
no, my dad died when i was seven.

Mollypop:
he had cancer.

Snowpeak99:
that’s terrible. i’m really sorry, molly.

Mollypop:
thanks…

Snowpeak99:
tell me more about the stars. when did he give them to you?

Mollypop:
on my sixth birthday. we got them together at the griffith park observatory…that massive white building with the round black dome at the top of the hill.

Snowpeak99:
oh yeah—i’ve seen it.

Mollypop:
we came home and i lay in bed telling him where to put them all. they’ve been in the same place ever since.

Snowpeak99:
wow. so it’s kind of like he’s been watching over you all this time.

Mollypop:
yeah…i suppose he has. i never really thought of it that way.

Snowpeak99:
do you miss him?

Mollypop:
yeah, i do.

Mollypop:
nobody asks me that anymore. i guess since it happened so long ago, they just don’t think about it or they don’t want to bring it up or something.

Snowpeak99:
people don’t always know how to react to uncomfortable topics. take it from me, the son of lesbians.

Mollypop:
what’s that like?

Snowpeak99:
it’s all i know, so it seems normal to me. and boulder’s a pretty liberal place. it’s also small, so it’s old news. that wasn’t always the case, though.

Mollypop:
what do you mean?

Snowpeak99:
we were one of the first “planned” nontraditional families in boulder.

Snowpeak99:
that’s code for my moms went to a sperm bank and chose to have me.

Snowpeak99:
it was more of a big deal back then cuz they were the first wave of lesbians doing it, so they got interviewed all the time.

Snowpeak99:
all these strangers knew who i was and that my dad was a sperm donor and all this really private stuff.

Mollypop:
wow…charlie, that’s so intense.

Snowpeak99:
yeah, it’s kind of crazy. there were apparently people who hated me before i was even born.

Mollypop:
i can’t imagine being so…exposed.

Snowpeak99:
i only found out all this stuff much later, so it wasn’t such a big deal in the end. plus i live in a house with four girls—two of them are eleven—so privacy’s kind of a foreign concept.

Snowpeak99:
it’s the 4th tomorrow.

Mollypop:
yeah.

Snowpeak99:
what are you doing?

Mollypop:
i don’t know yet…no plans…probably will go into the store.

Snowpeak99:
isn’t it closed?

Mollypop:
yeah, but new stuff came in that i want to go through.

Snowpeak99:
you work way too much. is it time for an intervention?

Mollypop:
lol. you sound like my boss, penelope. i know it sounds dorky, but sorting through stuff relaxes me.

Snowpeak99:
you’re right, it does sound dorky, but i kind of get it.

Mollypop:
well, thanks. now I can sleep calmly!!

Snowpeak99:
yes, you can…it’s getting late. i’ll let you go.

Mollypop:
good night, Charlie Richards.

Snowpeak99:
good night, Molly Hill.

Molly had fallen asleep with her laptop open on the bed next to her, and woke up in exactly the same position eight hours later. She reached over and touched the keyboard to wake up the sleeping computer.

There was a new e-mail from Charlie.