The Lake

sparkling Californian wine. “Mmmm. This is good. And Carl’s doing great, too.”

“Yeah. Good riddance to you-know-who.”

“Well, not exactly, honey. Nelson did have his moments. And he’d made a name for himself. In Tiburon, at least. Apparently, his previous experience came from working with some fancy Italian supremo at a top joint in New York. So he told me.”

“Pity he hadn’t stayed there.”

“Mmmm…” Leigh was more relaxed than she’d felt since Mom and Dad departed after the family get- together.

Only it hadn’t turned out to be a proper family get-together.

All that awkward stuff with Mom… And Deana and Allan leaving so soon after dinner…

Thank God, Mom and Dad had gone off to Boulder to be with Aunt Abby. Before everything happened.

Leigh glanced fondly at Deana. So young to have gone through such an awful experience. But, apart from her bruised jaw and a faraway look in her eyes now and then, Deana seemed to be holding up.

As funerals went, Allan’s had been pretty tense and grim. Understandably, she reckoned. Mary Powers, a single mother, so it turned out, was pale, tearful, and near to collapse. Luckily, there’d been a sister, Allan’s aunt Beth, to support her and help her through the ceremony.

Both had been distant with Leigh and Deana, darting just brief looks of recognition at the outset.

Nothing more.

Unlike Leigh’s own nightmares over Charlie’s funeral…

Charlie.

After eighteen years, memories of his death still lingered.

Maybe there is a curse on us, after all…

Leigh dismissed her gloomy thoughts and looked over at Deana. She gave a contented sigh. It was good, sitting here in the candlelight, chatting, eating nice food.

Despite the cloud of Allan’s death still hanging over us…

Not wanting to spoil tonight for either of them, she made a determined effort to lighten up, recalling another event.

One that had happened only that day.

A vivid reminder of the past.

Cherry.

“Cherry. Cherry Dornay!”

The red-haired girl looked up.

“Leigh West. As I live and breathe.”

“How’re things, Cherry? And,” Leigh paused, “how’s Ben?”

“Oh, Ben’s okay. Never married, of course.”

There was an awkward silence. The red-haired girl moved on, hastily. “And you? I recall you were set on owning your own restaurant all those years ago.”

“Yeah. I was. And I did.”

“Huh? You mean… all this is yours?”

Leigh gave a pleased smile, and Cherry said, “Wow!”

They chatted.

About this and that.

The old days.

How things had changed. Cherry taught art now, and was living in the San Fernando Valley. Ben was in IT— and still in San Diego.

They laughed a lot, reminiscing together. Yet Leigh still felt an awkwardness, a barrier that time had placed between them. She smiled at Cherry, remembering the seventies. San Diego. Lazy days on Mission Beach; meeting up with the crowd at Pepe’s Place on J Street. That trip to Tijuana when Ben had lost his precious guitar…

So much had gone on since then.

A lot of water had gone under quite a few bridges.

She thought of Ben. Strong, gentle; fair curly hair, worn shoulder length, hippie style. And the beard. Don’t forget the beard!

Yeah. Ben had been quite a guy.

Leigh and Cherry exchanged telephone numbers.

Promising to keep in touch.

Maybe.

“Mom. The door. I’ll get it.”

Deana left the table and went into the hallway.

“Wait, honey. Don’t open up yet.”

Deana looked through the spyhole.

Mace.

Does the guy never give up?

“Well?” Leigh asked.

“It’s Mace.” Deana pouted. Ordinarily, she would have been a little excited. Tonight she was disappointed. She’d had Leigh all to herself—and they’d been sharing some rare intimate moments.

Precious mom-and-daughter time.

Till around thirty seconds ago.

Screw Mace.

Was he redundant, or what?

Leigh opened the door.

“Why, Mace!” Her head lifted. She laughed, raking a hand through her hair. “This is a surprise.”

“Yeah,” Deana muttered. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Stepping inside, Mace threw her a beamer, not missing a beat.

He fished around in his pocket and came up with a palmful of sunflower seeds. He tossed them into his mouth, watching her all the time. His jaws worked around the seeds.

Deana frowned back.

Who does he think he is, Fox fuckin’ Mulder?

Still grinning, his lips peeled back, showing her his rows of straight white teeth.

But his eyes stayed cool. Alert.

He turned to Leigh.

“Dropped by to say we backed your hunch that Nelson maybe was in the Golden Gate vicinity last night. We have a coupla police launches patroling the area—in the unlikely event they find his body.”

Mace and Leigh sauntered off into the living room.

Deana followed, suddenly feeling left out.

Looked like Mom and Mace were already an item.

Christ!

Okay. Maybe Mom does need a boyfriend.

But Mace?

She pictured Mom and Mace making mad, passionate love. His mouth on hers. Running his hands over her naked body… Mom panting a little, pushing him into her…

Deana squirmed at the thought.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Mace said, eyeing the table. “Were you two having dinner? I’ll be on my way. Have to catch up with Mattie, anyhow. This time of night and she’s still at the depot. Spends more time on her computer these days than she ever did when we were out on the streets.”