Laguna Nights (4 page)

As he pulled his board shorts out from underneath a bunch of other clothes in his suitcase, he realized two things: He needed to unpack or all of his dress shirts would be a mess and that he didn’t have time to unpack because he couldn’t keep Holly waiting, not again. He couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to meet him for coffee, and he couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. When they’d dated in high school she’d been cute, smart, and unbelievably sweet. Season two their senior year, was all about him and his awful ways. He’d loved every minute of it even as his star grew brighter and she collapsed inward. Because of him. Because he had followed a loosely scripted plot-line, made it his own, and made America believe it. He was a good actor, he knew he was. He’d proven it back then.

Josh looked at himself in the mirror, his five o’clock shadow asserting itself, his dark hair messy and his black T-shirt a wrinkled mess. He met his own eyes in the mirror and from the bottom of his heart a realization hit him: Nobody had loved him the way Holly had; purely, just for himself before all of this. She had believed in his goodness. Just thinking about her soft, small hand in his made him want to kiss her again. Just thinking about what he’d done to her was another reason he never wanted to come home. But he was here, and unbelievably, so was Holly. Last he had heard through their once mutual friends and cast mates, she was living somewhere in Europe, enjoying a successful new life far away from this one. But just like him, she’d been drawn back to this place and, he supposed, it was fate for them to be together again.

Josh pulled on his board shorts, checked his image in the mirror once more, tugged on his baseball hat and sunglasses and hurried out of his room, hoping he could find the restaurant because he was late already.

He jogged down the long winding hall, found an elevator bank, and when the doors opened, pressed B hoping that button meant beach. As the doors opened, a sand-covered and sunburned couple, both about his age, he guessed, greeted him as the doors opened.

“Oh my God. It’s you! It’s Josh Welsh, right?” the woman said, hitting her companion in the stomach as she blocked Josh’s exit from the elevator.

“Hi, yes, do I know you?” Josh said, his standard line for a groupie of one.

“No, well, of course not. But I grew up watching you on
Laguna Nights.
I’m a huge fan. OH MY GOD. I never imagined in a hundred years coming here on my honeymoon and actually meeting my biggest high school crush!” she screamed.

“Come on out mate,” the husband said, pulling his enthusiastic spouse out of the way.

“Well, congratulations and best of luck,” Josh said brightly, patting the man on the shoulder as he hurried past them, just then realizing the couple probably were in their mid-twenties and that he was most certainly older than they were. That was happening all the time now as a new generation of high school kids binge-watched the series. A series he didn’t make a dime from, he thought again, before pushing the negative money thoughts away. It did mean something to be recognized, and because he knew someday he would be the famous actor he was destined to be, he needed to treat all the fans graciously whenever possible: even if the only version of Josh they knew so far was him as a perfect, cocky eighteen-year-old stud.

“Thank you, Josh! You’re still so handsome,” the wife yelled at his back as he jogged down the hall toward the doors to the resort’s pool and outdoor restaurant. Pushing through the doors he found himself outside in the sunshine and he stopped to take a breath. Birds-of-paradise pointed their petals like orange beaks from either side of the pathway. Directly in front of him was the sparkling mosaic tile pool and beyond that was impossibly green grass ending at the cliffs overlooking the pounding Pacific. He jogged to the right, passing the entrance to the spa and inhaling a deep breath of lavender, as he rounded the corner, and found himself at the restaurant. Holly, no
Madison
, was sitting at a table for two in the furthest corner of the outdoor restaurant, a large white umbrella on a strong teak stand shading her, her back to him. He had felt her presence before he spotted her in the corner, knew she was here. It was foundational, their connection, like an energy flow deep inside him. Not explainable beyond that of his first love. As he smiled at the host, still staring at Madison’s back, Madison turned around.

He waved, and smiled, knowing he looked like a fool. He couldn’t explain how happy she made him feel by simply acknowledging his presence. She filled a hole in his heart. Presumably, it was because of how they’d parted, he thought, without words, without closure. But whatever it was, every part of his body was ridiculously excited to see her again.

J
osh was wearing the stupid baseball cap and dark sunglasses, she noticed, as she gave him a weak wave from the corner table. She loved this table, nestled against the all-glass railing, overlooking the chef’s herb and vegetable garden below and just beyond, the gorgeous promenade along the cliff above the ocean.

Sometimes she’d sit here, arriving before her group sales clients, and take the moments to appreciate how far she’d come. While she was growing up, she could never have imagined dining at a restaurant like this. Her mom’s nail salon barely kept the two of them fed on the cheapest groceries from Ralph’s and most of her clothes were from the second-hand stores. She had known they were different than everyone else and she’d seen the pity in the wealthy women’s eyes as she cleaned the pedicure bowls between her mom’s clients while their own daughters joined them for a mani/pedi.

But lately, instead of thinking of her embarrassing past, Madison had been people watching, imagining the lives of the diverse people who milled along the path enjoying the riot of colorful flowers, the painters with their easels hurrying to catch the perfect light, the locals with their dogs – always with their dogs – taking advantage of a sparkling day, and of course, the tourists who made her job possible, their numbers growing each year due, in no small way, to the town’s exposure on
Laguna Nights.

Josh bent and kissed her right cheek before pulling out the chair across from her. “Thanks for agreeing to, uh, coffee,” he said sitting down. He removed his hat, but kept the sunglasses in place. He wore bright orange board shorts and a tight-fitting black T-shirt, accentuating his still amazing body, his biceps and toned, tanned legs. And even though she could tell he still didn’t care about anything or anyone but himself, her stomach flipped.
Stop it.

“Does anyone recognize you? I mean, you’re here, back at the scene of the crime so to speak,” Josh said. He had leaned forward, both elbows on the table as if he had a secret to share. “A tourist just accosted me at the elevators, I mean, it’s got to happen to you daily.”

“Not once. And I plan to keep it that way,” Madison said, leaning back against her chair.

“Well, that’s weird. I mean, you look different, sure, but you’re still you,” Josh said, finally sitting back in his chair. He was tapping his right foot up and down under the table, and Madison couldn’t help but watch his thigh bounce. Before, when they were together, she would place her hand on his thigh and he would calm down. Her touch was all it took. He cleared his throat and said, “In fact, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but you’re even more beautiful than you were in high school.”

Madison felt her cheeks blush with the compliment, the traitors. She didn’t want to care about how he saw her. She wouldn’t care about him again, ever.
He was the past
, she reminded herself as the waitress approached.

“Can I bring you something to drink sir?” a waitress asked, nodding at Madison. She was glad the young woman hadn’t acted star-struck. They trained the staff to be star-agnostic. It was important for decorum and privacy and the resort’s reputation as a leading hotel for the rich and famous.

“Yes, please, a beer, whatever you recommend,” he said and she was off.

Madison was waiting for Josh to say something else, but he had turned his head and was watching the ocean. She did likewise, admiring, as always, the rock formations so spectacular in the afternoon sunlight. After the waitress delivered the beer, and departed, Josh held his beer in his hand and said, “To us. To the good memories we shared.”

Madison picked up her iced tea glass and tapped it against his bottle. “We did. But those times were short compared to a lifetime of your betrayal,” she said, turning back to face the ocean so he could not see the tears springing to her eyes.

“That was scripted. It was for ratings, and for television. It didn’t mean anything. Laura didn’t mean anything,” Josh said. He reached out and touched her shoulder, but she pulled it away.

“If it didn’t mean anything, I could have been in on it. You could have told me what the director was planning. ‘Hey, Holly, they’re going to shoot this so it looks like I’m cheating on you but I’m really not.’ Something like that Josh,” she said, pulling her dark sunglasses down to cover her now tear-filled eyes. How could senior year in high school still hurt this much, she wondered.
Why can he still get to me?

“I am sorry. You never gave me the chance to explain, to talk,” he said.

“You asked Laura to prom. That pretty much told me everything I needed to know. Senior prom. I was such a fool. Always will be thanks to streaming video,” Madison said. She took a sip of her tea and pushed her chair back away from the table and stood.

“Please, don’t go,” he said, standing quickly and grabbing her arm. Despite herself, she felt a chill run down her spine. “Let’s go for a walk. We owe it to each other to talk about this. It could be our only chance. It’s been fifteen years.”