“You think your father will be there?”
“I don’t know, Mom.”
“He worked for Bill DeLacey for years. You’d at least think he’d pay his respects to Dolly.” Rose Thorne frowned petulantly.
“You’d think so.” Iris steered the Triumph through Lily and Jack’s neighborhood in the San Gabriel Valley suburb of Temple City.
Temple City was like most any other valley suburb—flat, hot, smoggy, and far enough from L.A. to lose the benefits of big city life yet close enough for L.A.’s problems to slop over onto it.
The evenly subdivided streets were dotted with tiny houses separated from one another by hyphens. Most of the houses had been built thirty or more years ago by individuals with grandiose plans but limited resources who went in for dream houses in miniature on the blank canvas that was southern California. Small storybook-inspired cottages with turrets and recessed windows stood next to tiled, zigzag-roofed mock adobes, next to low-roofed, deep-porched California Craftsman bungalows, next to the boxiest of 1960s cracker boxes with tarpaper-covered roofs strewn with small white rocks.
“Course, your father would probably bring his new family anyway. Man his age having five more kids,” Rose sniffed. “He acts like you and Lily don’t even exist.”
“We act like he doesn’t exist, so we’re even.”
“Iris, you shouldn’t be that way. He is your father, after all.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I hear he spends a lot of time with this new family. I don’t know what was wrong with the family I gave him.”
Iris rolled her eyes. “Let it rest, Mom. You’re dwelling on things that happened almost twenty-five years ago.”
The six cylinders of the Triumph’s baritone engine rumbled loudly on the quiet streets. Two boys playing in a yard stopped to watch the Triumph pass. It was a life-sized toy.
“So did you find Paula?” Rose asked conversationally.
“No.”
Rose was silent for a moment, then, as if she didn’t understand Iris’s response, asked, “You mean you couldn’t find her?”
“No. I didn’t try. I’m not going to pay two grand to a private detective.”
“But Bill wanted you to find her.”
“I don’t work for Bill.”
“Iris, Bill DeLacey’s done a lot for our family. I don’t know what would have happened to us if he hadn’t helped me out when your father and I were having our problems.”
Iris set her teeth on edge.
“He’s very upset right now. I called him right away when I heard about Dolly and invited him over for a home-cooked meal.”
Iris closed her eyes briefly as if to block a horrible image. “I refuse to be used by Bill DeLacey. If he really wants to see Paula he can hire a private detective. That’s probably what this whole thing is about anyway. He always was cheap.”
“How can you say that after he gave you all that money for your college education?”
“All that money? He gave me a thousand dollar check. That didn’t even make a dent. I paid for my education.” She shook her head with incredulity. “That money had strings attached, did you know that? He wanted me to tell him if anyone said anything about Gabriel Gaytan’s murder. Don’t you find it odd that he would hire a little girl to be a spy?”
“He did not, Iris.”
“He did too.”
“Well, I refuse to believe it.”
“Believe it or not, it’s true. Why is he so desperate to find Paula anyway? When she ran away, he knew where she was. He didn’t even try to go get her. She was only fourteen.”
Rose grasped the large, square vinyl purse that was on her lap between both hands. “He wants Paula to come to her mother’s funeral, that’s all. Bill DeLacey has his faults like anyone else. You can’t live your life looking for the bad in people, Iris Ann. You have to look at the bright side of life. That’s what I’ve always done.”
Iris rolled her eyes again. She parked the Triumph next to the curb in front of Lily and Jack’s 1940s three-bedroom, one-bath home. The house had a Spanish Gothic flavor. A striped canvas awning supported by two cast-iron spears jutted from the porch. A pattern of swirls had been molded into the plaster, which was painted pale mint green. Trimmed bushes and showy flowers bloomed in beds that extended across the front of the house and down each side of the lawn. Frilly lace curtains hung in the large arched picture window.
A sprinkler attached to a garden hose waved streams of water up and down the hearty St. Augustine grass, splashing on the sidewalk on its downward swoop where the children of the house’s first owners had scrawled their names and left their handprints in the concrete.
Assorted bicycles were in the driveway in front of the detached garage. Jack’s pickup truck with ROSSI ELECTRICAL painted on the door was parked on the street. Lily’s minivan was parked in the driveway in front of her eldest son, Vincent’s, Volkswagen Beetle—a gift from his parents for his sixteenth birthday. The Beetle’s doors were open and Vincent’s legs extended from the front seat. Eleven-year-old Gerald stood like a sentinel next to the Beetle, holding assorted wrenches. When he saw the Triumph pull up, he dropped them on the cement driveway with a clatter and ran to the curb.
Rose frowned at Jack’s truck. Fortunately for her, the world was replete with things to fret over. “Wonder why Jack’s home. Don’t tell me his work’s slow again.”
“I didn’t know his work had been slow.”
Rose lowered her voice, even though just the two of them were in the car. “Lily was afraid they might lose the house.”
“Why didn’t she tell me? I would have helped them out.”
“Don’t tell her I told you. You know how Jack is. Things haven’t been that great between them.” She put her hand on the Triumph’s door handle, then turned to look at Iris.
Iris was busy brushing her hair in the rearview mirror and didn’t immediately notice her mother’s penetrating stare. “What’s on your mind?”
“So what do you hear from John Somers?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Nothing,” Iris responded curtly.
“He’s a good man, Iris.”
“He’s a confused man, Mom,” Iris answered with forced patience. “I don’t need such a man in my life.”
“He’ll come around. He just needs some time. He really loves you.”
Iris shouted, “Dumping me to go back to his ex-wife is a hell of a way of showing it!” She immediately felt guilty for yelling at her mother.
Rose clutched her purse more tightly to her chest and looked at Iris with hurt eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.” She patted her mother’s shoulder.
“I’m surprised you have any friends at all, the way you go around losing your temper like that.”
They ungracefully climbed from the Triumph, the only possible way while wearing stockings and heels.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Rose hugged Gerald. He threw his arms around her waist, which expanded a bit each year. Rose was still an attractive woman looking younger than her years, but she groomed herself showily, as if that would compensate for the beauty that had faded. She dressed stylishly, wore glamorous makeup, even in the middle of the day, and fashioned her hair in a high auburn-dyed bouffant.
Gerald shouted, “Hi, Grandma! Hi, Aunt Iris! Did you bring me anything?”
Rose dug in her purse and presented Gerald with a Hershey bar.
Iris leveled a glance at her mother. “You know Lily doesn’t like them eating junk food.”
“I can spoil my grandchildren if I want to. These might be the only grandkids I’ll have.”
Iris pursed her lips as if she’d tasted something sour.
“Hey, Aunt Iris,” Vincent said. “Why don’t you let me take the TR for a spin?” His dark hair fell across his eyes and he jerked his head to flick it back.
“I can’t today, Vince. I don’t have time to go with you.”
“Oh, go on, Iris,” Rose said. “He’ll be careful, won’t you, Vincent?”
“Mom.” Iris glared at her mother.
Vincent smiled and nudged Iris with his shoulder. “Sure I will. C’mon, Auntie.” His brown eyes sparkled.
Iris teasingly pointed at him. “You remind me of your father when he was younger.”
“So you gonna let me drive it?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Iris and Rose walked down the short cement path that cut across the front lawn. The front door was open behind the screen door.
“C’mon in,” Jack said from inside.
Iris opened the screen door which led directly into the small living room. Pop music was playing somewhere in the back of the house.
Jack walked from the kitchen into the living room, eating from a can of chili with a spoon. He was in his middle forties and handsome with black hair going salt-and-pepper. His features were beginning to lose their sharp edges. He wore dark blue work pants, a white short-sleeved shirt, and black work shoes. “Lily’s still getting ready.”
“How are you, Jack?” Without waiting for a response Rose said, “I’m surprised to find you home in the middle of the day. Your work hasn’t been slow, has it?” She strolled to a wall and began straightening pictures that a recent aftershock had knocked askew.
“Heck no. Thanks to the fires and now the earthquake, I’ve got more than I can handle. I came home to pick up Vince. He’s been helping me.”
“I thought he was on the track team,” Iris said. “Doesn’t he have practice after school?”
“He’s not going to earn a living running track.”
Iris commented, “It’s a shame to curtail his school activities. He’ll have to start working soon enough.”
He pointed the spoon at her. “I know how to raise my kids, Iris. Lily and I don’t travel in the same circles as your hoity-toity friends who can afford to let their kids play all the time.”
Iris was tempted to have the last word, but she resisted.
The pop music stopped. Thirteen-year-old Ashley bounded into the living room, closely followed by another girl.
“Hi! Hi!” Ashley waved at Iris and Rose. “That’s my grandmother and this is my Aunt Iris,” she explained to her friend. “My aunt gave me the birthstone ring for my birthday. It’s a real emerald, Heather.” She held her hand out so Heather could admire it. “I never take it off, Aunt Iris.”
“Looks terrific, too,” Iris said.
“Is it really a real emerald?” Heather asked.
Jack responded. “Of course it is. Think your aunt would buy anything but the most expensive even for a thirteen-year-old?”
“I like giving her things I never had when I was a kid,” Iris said.
“She doesn’t need expensive things like that,” Jack said. “She’ll start to put on airs.”
Rose interjected, “You had plenty of nice things when you were growing up, Iris.”
“Airs?” Iris asked. “What are airs?”
Jack said, “I’m just saying that I’m perfectly capable of providing for my family, that’s all.”
Rose pouted. “I might have gone without myself, but I made sure you girls had things.”
“Come and watch us practice for cheerleading, Aunt Iris.”
“Gladly.” Iris walked out the screen door, brushed off a spot on the front porch, and sat down.
Ashley turned off the sprinkler. “We’re trying out for junior cheerleader. Watch this. One, two, three. We came! We saw! We took the ball and conquered now! We came…”
“I think the Triumph could use some exercise, Aunt Iris.” It was Vincent again.
Iris reached into her purse and tossed him the keys. “Twice around the block.”
“Awesome! Thanks, Auntie.”
“We took the ball…” The girls stopped when they noticed two boys walking down the street.
Ashley excitedly grabbed Heather’s arm. “Look. It’s Jason and Eric. They’re so cute! Say hi to them. Say hi!”
“You say hi, you say it first!”
“No, you say it!”
“I’ll just die! You say it!”
“Okay, okay!”
They giggled, flailed their hands, then recovered and casually strolled to the curb. “Hi.” Ashley waved awkwardly. Heather then did the exact same thing.
Iris heard the screen door open behind her.
“I’m ready I.,” Lily said as she walked down the steps, wearing a black jacket, black skirt, and a deep blue blouse, two sizes larger than she wore in high school. She dyed her short hair ash blond, recreating the color of her youth, and wore it permed and styled away from her face. She did it herself to save money and it had an over-processed, wiry texture. Rose followed her.
Lily tucked in a tag on the back of Iris’s jacket neckline, then began fussing with her collar. Iris brushed at Lily’s hand, turning slightly as she did so.
Lily noticed her face. “You crying?”
Rose grabbed Iris’s arm and stared at her with grave concern, then tried to force a pink tissue on her. “What’s wrong, Iris? Are you upset about Dolly?”
Iris shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Did Jack upset you?” Lily asked. “It’s just that money’s been so tight, he feels bad he can’t afford to buy the kids expensive things.”
“Oh, puh-leese. I wouldn’t cry over Jack. It’s nothing. Okay? Can we just drop it and go?”
Rose persisted. “But it has to be something.”
Iris finally snatched the tissue that her mother had been waving and dabbed her eyes with it. The moment passed. She began to breathe easier. “I was just watching the girls and it occurred to me how young they are.”
“Yeah?” Lily said. “And?”
“You’re very young when you’re thirteen.”
“And?”
“And…that’s all.” Iris stood, brushed the back of her skirt, and looked at her mother and sister who were watching her curiously.
Rose asked, “Are you eating right?”