“So what
“A lot,” Mauve said with a low whistle. “Did you know he’s a champion surfer and kick boxer? And those aren’t his best talents.”
“Oooh! Dish!” Sadie flipped her turn signal and moved into the fast lane. “Anything I can add to the Layaway List?”
“Well … ” Mauve drawled. “Let’s just say that Alonzo didn’t disappoint.”
She went on to rave about Alonzo’s kissing skills, customized car and tattoos, and about how he was so brilliant he’d been offered an internship in a top law firm. I was skeptical, though, because no guy could be that perfect. Alonzo seemed nice enough, but arrogant, too. The more Mauve described every drama-centric detail, the less I believed even half of it was true.
Still, it was fun to listen.
We were out of the hills now, dipping down into a sprawling metropolis of concrete that stretched on forever with distant towering buildings blending into a gray skyline. Traffic congested; our speed slowed. Sadie didn’t seem bothered by the traffic as she kept pumping Mauve for details about Alonzo. Mauve didn’t hold much back; some of her answers crossed into the realm of
“The ocean!” Sadie shouted suddenly as we left the freeway, pointing to a gap between towering buildings in the far distance. “There it is!”
“I can’t see it.” I pressed my face against the window, squinting at a horizon of drab, cloudless sky.
“Look beyond those buildings.” Mauve pointed.
I’d expected a shade of brilliant blue or green but there was only a gray smudge beyond high-rises. Then I blinked and the gray was gone. Oh well, I’d see the real thing soon enough, I thought with rising excitement.
Mauve pulled out a print-out with directions and told Sadie to keep driving straight for three miles. “Then turn right on Starfish Street and make an immediate left.”
“Are you sure?” Sadie glanced over at the print-out in Mauve’s hands, frowning.
“That’s what the directions say.”
“But that can’t be right. That would take us away from the beach. My cousin Abigail said the condo had a view of the ocean.”
“Haven’t you ever been here before?” I asked.
“Don’t be stupid. You know I can’t stand my cousin. Her side of the family thinks they’re better than the rest of us because they’re rich.” Sadie groaned as she made a right turn. “This can’t be the right street.”
“Unfortunately it is,” Mauve said.
Where are the condos? I wondered, peering out the window at old homes with high porches, rickety steps and fading paint on sagging wood. Junker cars decorated a few dead lawns and I spotted three pit bulls straining at their chains. Yeah, really nice neighborhood — not.
“I am going to kill my cousin,” Sadie growled.
“Me, too — after I kill you for trusting her,” Mauve added.
“Maybe the neighborhood will get better,” I said hopefully.
“It’s getting worse!” Mauve griped. “Sadie! Didn’t you wonder why the cousin you hate would be so generous to you?”
“I was too thrilled by a rent-free beach condo to ask questions. But I should have known it was too good to be true.”
“Look at that dump with all the junk in the driveway. The house is the color of piss and probably smells worse.” Mauve complained.
“Um … that dump is our condo,” Sadie said miserably as she stopped the car in front of a dilapidated, faded- yellow clapboard home. It had a peaked roof with a tiny attic window that seemed like an evil eye warning us to
“We can’t stay here!” Mauve cried.
“I repeat — I’m going to kill my cousin.”
Disappointment rushed through me in aching waves. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to staying by the beach until now. A few hours sunning away my worries in the warm sand would have been wonderful. But we were miles from our beach dreams.
“What do we do now?” Sadie asked, leaning her head against the steering wheel. “It’s not like we can afford anything else — assuming we could find anything good.”
“Never happen,” Mauve agreed. “Even if we had the big bucks for a nice hotel, I’ve heard they’re all booked.”
I glanced over at the black purse that I’d tossed on the seat, and thought of the cash inside. This would be a good time to admit I was flush with funds … but suspicions about where the money came from held me back.
“So we have no choice,” Mauve decided. She opened her car door and gestured for us to follow. “We go inside.”
“Not me,” Sadie said with a shudder. “If I enter that dump, I’ll have to sanitize my whole body.”
“I’m not happy about this either, but it’s either go in or go back to the dorm. We have to make this work,” Mauve said, gritting her teeth as if preparing to go into battle. “If our rooms are dirty, we’ll clean them.”
“I’m used to cleaning big messes,” I said. “I don’t mind hard work.”
“You?” Mauve made a
Oops. Brain blunder. For a moment I forgot I was supposed to be Sharayah — not the over-worked, underpaid older sister of toddlers.
“Just because I don’t take the time to clean,” I said defensively, “doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”
“This sucks.” Sadie stared out the window with a woeful expression. “Even if the inside of the house is okay, we can’t move it near the beach. Our week is totally ruined.”
“It will be with that attitude,” Mauve retorted. “We have a place to stay and the ocean isn’t that far. Bitch all you want — but I’m going to have fun — damn it!”
I nodded, feeling like I should applaud, but I settled on a small smile.
Sadie grumbled a little more but then followed us up the rickety steps, to a front door where a doormat said:
“Oh, gross!” Sadie covered her mouth as we stepped into a cluttered living room that smelled like spoiled food and stinky feet.
There were no carpets, only a few stained throw rugs on scuffed wood. Random furniture crowded into the small room: an oval, dark-wood coffee table covered with dirty plates and dishes, a saggy green couch, and four mismatched, worn recliners all facing a large flat-screen TV. Piles of papers filled one corner, a few sad plants wilted on a window shelf, boxes of all sizes were crammed in every empty space, and nearby on the wall, hung crookedly, was a calendar from 1982. Behind a leaning tower of boxes, I spotted a small Christmas tree with several unopened presents — as if time and housekeeping had left this room untouched.
“Still think we can stay here?” Sadie asked sarcastically.
“Well … ” Mauve stared around, at a loss for words.
“What’s that smell?” I asked, puckering my nose.
“Something died, I think, under those boxes,” Sadie said with disgust. “I’m not staying long enough to find out. There’s dust on the dust and all that’s holding that window together is duct tape. Civilized people cannot live like this.”
“Are you sure we have the right house?” I asked.
“Yeah — the key did open the lock. Besides, I recognize that picture.” Sadie pointed to a framed photo besides one of the dying plants, of a girl with long dark hair and thick brown glasses. “That’s Abigail — before her laser surgery fixed her eyes and she dyed her hair blond. When I see her, I’m going to grab that blond hair and twist—”
