Catherine Coulter - Born To Be Wild

“That may be, Kelly, but for your information, he was quite reticent about it,” Mary Lisa said, and smiled. She looked down at the shrimp huddled in the middle of her plate on a small pile of brown rice. She reminded herself she’d come back mostly to see her father, and perhaps to find some comfort in being home again. But what had she really expected? She’d walked onto the stage of another soap opera, this one with a nice juicy murder, only this wasn’t a stage. This was her family and it was real, as real as that LeSabre that struck her in Malibu.

“You don’t look well, Mary Lisa,” Kathleen said.

“It’s nothing, really, just a headache brewing.”

“I thought your friend Judy Reinbold was coming over,” her father said.

“Yeah, she is. I’ll take some aspirin and lie down before she comes. I also need to call my friend Lou Lou in Malibu.” She laughed. “Hey, that rhymes.”

“It sounds like a stripper’s name.”

“No, actually, she’s an excellent makeup artist for the show. And it’s not her real name.”

“What is her real name?” Kelly asked.

“She won’t tell me, won’t tell anyone.”

Kelly asked, “Are you going clubbing with Judy?”

“Not that I know of. Is there a new place in Goddard Bay where one would do that?”

Kelly shot a look toward her father. “It isn’t exactly one of those posh clubs you’re used to down in L.A. but there’s this okay place now over in Tumaluck with a mostly twenties crowd. I’d take you there, introduce you around, but Mick’s coming over.”

“Mick who? Do I know him?” Mary Lisa asked.

“Yeah, Mick Maynard. He’s Jason Maynard’s older brother.”

The table was suddenly deathly still.

“Why is he coming over, Kelly?” her father asked.

“I don’t want him here,” her mother said.

“He didn’t do anything,” Kelly said as she speared a green bean on her fork. “He’s cute and unattached. Hey, maybe he’ll tell me stuff.”

Mary Lisa said slowly, “I remember Mick Maynard. He went to school with Monica, right?”

Kelly nodded, didn’t look at either her mother or her father.

“This isn’t a good idea for you to see him, Kelly,” her father said. “Not now, not three days after his brother was murdered, the murderer still out there.”

“We’re not, like, dating or anything, Dad. He told me he was lonely and confused. I offered to let him talk to me. We’re going for coffee out at the Goddard Bay Inn.”

Silence again.

“For heaven’s sake, I’m not going to sleep with him! I’m only doing a good deed.”

Kathleen turned to Mary Lisa. “I think it’s rather rude of you to leave tonight, Mary Lisa.”

George said, his eyes still on Kelly, “This is a no-guilt household, Kathy. This is Mary Lisa’s vacation, she doesn’t need to spend it in our pockets. As for you, Kelly, I rather wish you would.”

Kelly said, “I’m twenty-five, Dad. I’m an adult. I’m moving back to my apartment after this weekend, so this is all rather silly, isn’t it?” Her parents remained silent, and Kelly added, too brightly, “I thought you played bridge tonight, Mom. Isn’t it your turn to have all the ladies here?”

“No, no bridge tonight. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Mary Lisa, your sister is throwing a party for you tomorrow night.”

Mary Lisa’s dinner roll fell off her plate. She said slowly, “Why would Monica throw a party for me?”

Her father burst out laughing. “Your sister isn’t stupid, sweetie. You’re important. You’re a TV star. You’re a celebrity, which means you can draw people to her. Politically, it’s a smart thing to do. She’s fast, I’ll say that for her. And you know what? It’ll be an excellent party, Monica’s that good.”

When Mary Lisa finally escaped to her room, she called Lou Lou, but Lou Lou wasn’t home. Her machine’s message said, “Tonight I’m working off two pounds on the dance floor. Tomorrow’s Saturday, don’t call me too early. Bye.”

Twenty minutes later, Mary Lisa led her friend Judy Reinbold in only as far as the living room doorway, knowing to her toes that one more step into her mother’s domain would be a mistake. She remembered her mother didn’t like Judy’s parents, and would find a way to show it to their daughter. “Say hi to everyone, Judy, then we’re off.”

Judy Reinbold had the biggest, whitest smile west of the Mississippi. “Hi, everyone!”

“Wait! Come in here, Mary Lisa, and bring Judy.”

“Sorry, Mom, we’ve got to go. We’re already late, right, Judy?”

“Whatever you say, Mary Lisa.”

Mary Lisa laughed as she ran to Judy’s car at the curb. “You wouldn’t have wanted to take another step into the house, trust me on that.”

SHEwas not running on Saturday morning because she hoped to see John Goddard again. No, she always ran in the mornings, no matter where she was. Yet, if she was honest about it, she found herself looking around quite a bit, and she was wearing lipstick, a lowering realization.

She had pretty much given up on him when she saw a man running out of the low-lying fog toward her, his pace fast and smooth. She slowed up when she realized it really was John Goddard. He pulled up in front of her, panting.

“I can’t come closer or you’ll run in the opposite direction. I’m sweating like a stoat.”

“Are you running off your anger about this conspiracy thing Patricia Bigelow is talking about?”

“Nah. Pat’s good. She’s a street fighter. You hear how she’s implying I’m going after Milo because of my father’s lawsuit with him?”

Mary Lisa nodded. “It was a major topic at my parents’ dinner table last night.”

“It’s her job to try to head us away from Milo, but I really could do without all the innuendo.”

“My dad was saying most everyone likes your dad, so my guess is it might backfire on her.”

“From your lips to God’s ear,” he said.

“Are you going to Monica’s party tonight?”

“I suppose so. She’s sure put it together fast. You’re the big guest of honor, right?”

Mary Lisa nodded. “My dad says that she’s doing this because I’m a celebrity, and people will listen to what I say. It seems weird to me. Can you imagine caring what Barbra Streisand or Johnny Depp thinks about politics? Let them stick to acting, that I know they do well. Hey, I hope you can tell me where I can buy a dress for this shindig. Trust me when I say I didn’t bring anything appropriate.”

“Just a second.” He pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket, punched in a single digit. “Hello, Mom? Question. Where can a girl get a party dress on really short notice?”

He listened, then handed the phone to Mary Lisa. “Mrs. Goddard?”

“Mary Lisa, how lovely to speak to you. We’re talking about your sister’s party tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What size are you?”

“Ah, it depends-a size two or four, I guess.”

“Isn’t that perfect? John’s sister is that small, well, not now, she isn’t, since she’s six months pregnant. Have John take you to her house and you can dive into her closet. I know she’ll be thrilled. She’s always telling everyone she wants to be Sunday Cavendish after the baby’s born. She can do it now. I’ll call her. Bye, dear.”

Mary Lisa handed back the phone. “Well, I really don’t know what to do now. Your mother wants me to borrow a dress from your pregnant sister.”

“Good idea. Come along, we’ll go see Ms. Granola Bar.”

“What?”

He walked toward his silver BMW parked behind a couple of stunted trees on the highway. “Beth was always a health nut. I started calling her that when she was fourteen or thereabouts. She’s always been skinny as a stick. As a matter of fact, right now she’s beginning to look like a spider that’s just eaten something big. The doctor says it’s twins.”