“OKAY,” I SAID the following morning at the Lodge restaurant while scarfing down a Big Sur Scramble, consisting of more food than I normally ate in a week.
“Okay what?” Anne mumbled, rather overindulging herself. Her plate was a colorful mosaic of scrambled eggs, grilled vegetables, pepper jack cheese, seasoned potatoes, and toast. Apparently, her low-cal, veggie diet was on break.
“You can take me out for my birthday.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
“Guess that means we’ll be spending another night here,” I said.
Nestled among redwoods and oaks, the dining room’s floor-to-ceiling windows invited in the serenity of the outdoors. Fans whirred overhead, and the doors stood open, sending cool breezes our way.
Anne studied my face with a lift of a brow. “Do you mind?”
“Are you kidding? I could tolerate one more day of this.”
“So, who’s your tent sitter?” she asked, scooping up the last of her eggs.
The server came by to refill our coffee. We both took ours black.
“Holly,” I said.
Anne’s fork cluttered to the table. “You trust that little tyke?”
“She’s not guarding Fort Knox. I carry my valuables with me.”
Anne gave me a knowing smile, alerting me that she was in my head again. “You figured she could use the responsibility, right?”
I took a long sip of coffee and stared out the window. Several people whisked by on bicycles, sending out a lazy, cricket-like trill. “And the money. She said her parents have summer jobs here at the park, but I believe they’re in pretty dire straits.”
“Why am I not surprised? Want to walk over there and check on how she’s doing?”
Before I could answer, Anne stood and patted her stomach. “I could use the exercise.”
It didn’t take long to figure out that Holly hadn’t spent any time in my tent. Everything appeared exactly as I’d left it: rolled up sleeping bag; folded blanket; fluffed up pillow. And the strong eucalyptus scent of my funky, tent-deodorant spray indicated that the entrance had remained tightly zipped. I felt a tinge of alarm. Giving her permission to do what she’d been doing anyway, with the stipulation that she look after my stuff, had seemed like a good idea at the time. Had I gotten her into trouble with her parents? Or had an adventure turned into a paying job lost its appeal?
Anne brought her hands to her hips and shook her head, moon and star earrings swinging as though tolling a warning. “If Holly’s family is in such dire straits, what’s with all the camping gear?”
“I believe they may be living here for a while.”
“That’s not permitted.”
My laugh sounded bitter, considering Adam, Anne, and I were doing the same. “I assume management made an exception, considering the parents are temporary employees.”
An expression ranging between exasperation and pity crossed Anne’s face. “It never seems to end, does it...life’s little tragedies?”
“And no one is spared,” I said, reminding myself that valuable life lessons are often learned through adversity.
Even, it seemed, the life lessons of a six-year-old.
~~~
Anne must’ve selected the most expensive restaurant in Big Sur for my birthday lunch. We sat at a table in Post Ranch Inn’s Sierra Mar Restaurant with dizzying views from the top of a cliff 1,250 feet above the Pacific.
“This place is definitely worth all those stairs we climbed getting here,” I said.
Anne’s eyes appeared to mist over, but I could’ve been wrong, considering the way natural light filtered through the plate-glass windows into the dining area, otherwise lit only by strategically placed lamps. “This is one of the most romantic places on earth, a perfect getaway for you and Morgan someday.”
My heart did a crazy leap in my chest. Why did she have to bring up Morgan, today of all days, when I was most vulnerable? “At nine hundred dollars a night? I don’t think so.”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Anne said. “The Butterfly House is a mere five hundred smackeroos.”
“Plus, occupancy tax,” I said.
“The building’s shaped like a butterfly, I’ll have you know, and has a private deck with a fantastic view. You also get a gourmet continental breakfast.”
“In that case, I guess it’s worth it,” I said, holding back a smile. She made the place sound like a bargain.
“I heard they have beds you can lose yourself in,” Anne said.
“I can lose myself just fine without the bed.”
“You see yourself as a caterpillar,” Morgan had said during our guided tour into the Los Padres Forest, “and I see you as a butterfly.”
Caterpillar to butterfly. Yeah, maybe someday.
Anne sobered and placed her hand on mine. “Oh yeah, that’s why you came to Big Sur. To find yourself.”
My chin began to wobble. “It’s very important to me right now.”
She patted my hand and handed me a spare napkin from the table. “As it should be, hon. Are you ready to order?”
I looked at the menu and set it back down. “There are no prices.”
She presented me with a stern brow and pursed lips. “It’s prix-fixe, dear. Anyway, it’s on me, remember?”
Did Anne know what she was getting into? This could cost her a fortune.
“The fruits, vegetables, and herbs are all organic,” she said without consulting the menu. “And the meat is free-range. Sometimes they have to wait nine months to get a shipment. Almost like having a baby.”
I shook my head. Organic Anne was back in full force.
“And everything is made in-house,” she added.
Even if this was gourmet from heaven, I didn’t want to annihilate Anne’s bank account.
While Anne ordered for both of us—which was fine with me, considering the menu consisted of four courses, with at least four choices each—I stared through the expanse of windows at the panoramic view of the ocean below. From this distance, the surf seemed poised in a massive swell of foam, frozen for a breath of time, perfect as a picture.
For a moment, there was silence, so I figured Anne was also enjoying the view, but then she sucked in her breath and mumbled something that sounded like a curse.
The oceanic view lost focus. What was going to knock the earth off its axis this time? “Anne, we came here to celebrate my birthday. No more surprises, please.”
She said nothing, just stared over my shoulder. I made to turn, but she nudged me under the table and gave me a warning look. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
I turned anyway, a strange rebelliousness surfacing that I was beginning to recognize as part of a new me. “Of all the rotten luck,” I said when I saw who it was.
Cecil and Claudia couldn’t have been standing in the foyer for more than a minute before they were whisked past our table by the host. “Hey, they didn’t even have to wait,” I said.
“They must be regulars,” Anne pointed out. “Big tippers, too.”
I checked out Claudia from behind, with her how-to-walk-like-a-model strut.
“Jealous?” Anne asked.
Darn, I hated it when she read my thoughts this way. “It would be nice to be that rich for a day or two, just to try it out.”
“Do they look happy to you?” Something in Anne’s voice made me turn to study her face. She was staring at the churning ocean below as if she’d gone in search of the answer to her own question.
“Sure,” I said. “They just try to hide it so people like us don’t feel bad.”
The host led Cecil and Claudia to prime-table seating. Cecil must have sensed our scrutiny because he turned and looked our way. His eyes widened, but to my relief, he raised a hand and took a seat, making no move to invade our space.
Claudia peeked in our direction and smiled.
“I want to hate that girl, but can’t,” I said.
Anne smirked. “A flower amongst the weeds.”
Our first course arrived, and at my look of confusion, Anne informed me that it was living watercress salad. “The roots were cut just before it came to our table.”
Although arranged imaginatively with appetizing texture, color, and aroma, the courses that followed were miniscule compared to our mega breakfast at the Big Sur Inn. A good thing, considering that a sedentary woman of five foot six, weighing one hundred and thirty pounds, should have called it quits for the day.
We finished our meal in less time than we’d waited for the table. I passed on dessert, having tea instead. Anne indulged in some sticky chocolaty conglomeration that made my teeth ache just looking at it. Health food to junk food with apparently no regrets.
“Why here, Anne? It’s so—”
“Expensive?”
“Trail mix will never taste the same after this.”
“I like to spoil myself now and then. Anyway, this place exudes positive energy, the kind you can plug into and draw inside to re-energize.”
Ocean, cliffs, trees. Couldn’t argue with that.
“Besides, Adam pays me well, and you’ve been helping him, too.”
“I have? Doing what?”
“Making him happy.” Anne signaled the waiter for our check.
“Oh, no, ma’am,” he said when he arrived at our table. “The gentleman two tables down settled the bill for you.”
My insides twisted. Not good.
“Saved me a bundle,” Anne quipped after the waiter left.
“Yeah, but what will he want in return?”
I could tell by the frown on her face that she had considered this, too.
“I suppose we’re expected to go over and thank him?” I said. Harley Guy rubbed me the wrong way, so sure of himself, so live-out-loud pushy.
Anne smiled and waved in their direction. “Nope. They’re coming here. No sneaking out the door this time.”
“Hello ladies,” Cecil said, his cheerful confidence annoying.
I met Claudia’s eyes. She shook her head as though trying to warn me about something.
“Care to join us?” Anne asked.
I kicked her under the table. Too late.
“Thank you.” Cecil pulled out a chair for Claudia and signaled for her to take a seat. Instead, she walked over to a window shaped like a porthole, which spotlighted the view of the ocean below. Cecil gazed at her back, and, for a moment, I wondered if her action had made a small imprint on his psyche. He shrugged. Guess not. “You left the gallery last night before I had a chance to talk to you,” he said.
I smiled, wishing I were anywhere but here. At least Claudia was keeping a safe distance. Lucky girl.
“About your sculpture,” he said. “I was told it wasn’t for sale, but surely you can make another.” I started to shake my head, but he placed his hand over mine. “I’m making a very generous offer.”
I retrieved my hand and placed it on my lap. “Sorry, it’s not for sale.”
Anne made a coughing sound. “Marjorie didn’t want it displayed. I’m afraid, I entered it against her better judgment.”
I heard the soft intake of breath. Claudia had turned from the window and was giving me a curious look. Our gazes held for several seconds before she shifted her attention back to the window.
“But why?” Cecil asked. “It could make you famous.”
I touched my throat, felt my pulse throb. This was just the sort of thing that could plunge me back into the sort of life I’d been living before. By today’s standards I’d been sitting on top of the world—a good job, money in the bank, a home of my own—but I hadn’t felt successful in all that mattered. How could I explain this to a man like Cecil, who appeared to thrive on material success and fame?
Anne cleared her throat. “Thanks for picking up the tab. That was an unexpected treat.”
“A small gesture of appreciation,” he said, looking at me. “Your sculpture brought me a great deal of pleasure, more than I’ve felt in a long time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
He frowned before something approaching a smile crossed his face. “Yeah, me too.” He glanced at Claudia, who continued to stare through the porthole and appeared not to be listening. “I wish I could explain it. How a glob of glazed and fired clay, containing no material of value and created by a self-proclaimed amateur, could make me feel happy when little else can.”
“Doesn’t that concern you?” I asked, “that a worthless piece of clay can have this much power over you?”
He pinned me with his dark glaze. “At first, yes, but then I figured what the hell? Instead of asking questions I can’t answer, why not enjoy what money can buy?”
I thought back to what I’d told myself when holding my completed sculpture for the first time. Nothing outside of yourself can give you what you think you’re missing. “Do you have to own it to enjoy it?”
“Yes,” he said.
He was missing the point—big time. He wanted to possess what the sculpture could only depict. And that just couldn’t be. The expression You can’t take it with you came to mind. “Again, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“You don’t know me very well if you think I give up that easily,” he said.
Claudia appeared at our table and placed her hand on his shoulder. “There are many forms of pleasure, Cecil, many of them free for the asking.”
Smart girl.
Cecil gave me an odd look, which I couldn’t decipher on such short acquaintance. Then he stood, put an arm around Claudia’s small waist, and drew her close. “Guess you’re right.”
Claudia held the faraway look I expected to see on the faces of the Dark Watchers as they stared over a landscape, a look that contained wisdom far beyond what was normal for someone so young and so beautiful.