The sun was out again the next day and Bob and Dotty Sullivan were waiting at the door when we opened. They played some tennis then came in for coffee. Between customers they teased me about how they were going to fix me up with their grandson who lived in Wisconsin. I missed my grandparents, so it was nice having them around. It took my mind off the information overload I was still trying to process. At least for a few minutes.
Later that afternoon, Friends Across the Bay was back at it, even though Alonso and LeGrand spent most of their time leaning against the shady wall of the clubhouse with their knees propped up, spinning their rackets on the ground, and bouncing balls against the low stucco wall that separated the club from the courts. For someone who was supposed to be a good player, I’d never seen LeGrand actually hit in a real game or even in a rally. I wondered if Dee knew how Alonso spent his time in tennis camp. Or did she think he was out working up a good sweat and learning the finer points of the game?
The truth is I wasn’t paying much attention to what people were saying or doing that day. All I could think about was the horrible catastrophe in store for mankind. The end of our world. I knew it was a long way off but I liked to think of Earth as always being around even if I wasn’t.
__________
Dad was in the middle of a lesson when I got off work and Mom was balancing out the register. I walked around thinking about everything and wondering what kind of future I could have with Zat. Did he already know the answer since he was from the future? But when he was alive in the future there was no Babe and Zat. It was too confusing for me and probably just as confusing for him even though he had the advantage of knowing a lot more than I did. By the time I got home, I felt like my head was going to explode from all the questions piling up—like a parking lot that said FULL, but still the cars keep driving in.
__________
When my dad pulled the truck onto Trout Lane I noticed a strange car parked in the driveway, a red BMW.
“Pat, who’s that?” We weren’t used to unannounced company.
“A young fellow. Babe . . . friend of yours?”
LeGrand walked away from our front door where apparently he’d been ringing the bell of an empty house.
“That’s LeGrand Buell. What’s he doing here?” My face must have flushed crimson because it felt like a fire was raging.
“The Buells with the huge boat?” Mom was intrigued.
I practically jumped out of the truck before Dad came to a stop. LeGrand was leaning elegantly against the tree in our front yard, hands loosely tucked into his pants pockets.
As I got closer, his faint smile turned into a mischievous grin.
“Miss Fremont.” He nodded at me and smiled sweetly, removing one pocketed hand to sweep back his blond-streaked Hollywood hair. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. I was in the neighborhood and wondering if you’d care to join me for dinner.”
By then my parents had caught up to me, although my dad was holding Mom back with a firm grip on her arm.
“Mom, Dad, this is LeGrand,” I muttered.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Sir.” My mom was already in love before he even shook her hand.
My parents walked into the house, leaving the front door open for us to follow them in.
“So?” LeGrand raised his eyebrows.
“So what?”
“So, would you like to have dinner?”
I was still in my tennis dress, the same one I wore every day. I reminded myself about the non-fraternization rule where country club employees didn’t mix with members. But we weren’t at the club, we were at my house, so I guessed it would be okay. And by then I thought of LeGrand as a kind-of-sort-of friend. I was hoping he felt the same way.
“Sure. But I need to change out of these clothes.”
“Of course you do. I’ll wait outside.”
“No, come in. I’ll be quick.”
I’d never been ashamed of who I was or where I came from but I found myself acutely uncomfortable the minute LeGrand stepped through my front door. What would he think of a house like mine? Had he ever even been inside one? But he quickly put me at ease as he chatted effortlessly with my parents while I went in my room to change.
I finished dressing and was just about to leave when I remembered a message I’d forgotten to give Bing about a last minute lesson booked for the following morning. Bing wasn’t always there right at opening so I wanted to let him know. I also wanted to rescue LeGrand from Mom’s prying questions.
“I gotta send Bing a quick email before we go. You can come see my room if you want.”
While I was busy typing the email, LeGrand walked slowly around my tiny cubicle of a room as though he was exploring the Grand Canyon. He paused for a long time at my dresser where I realized he was staring at the printed-out picture Mai had drawn for me.
“Who’s this . . . other than you? Or should I say, what’s this?”
I pressed SEND and closed my laptop before looking over at the picture.
“Oh, Nuggins painted that. It’s one of those fantasy anime type drawings. She’s got a vivid imagination.”
“Hmm,” he looked at it for another few seconds before putting it down. “She’s very talented. Why don’t you call her and ask her to join us?”
“Great idea!” The thought of spending an evening alone with LeGrand was intimidating so I jumped at the chance to include Mai. I dialed her number hoping she’d pick up, which she did.
I’d smelled a whiff of alcohol on LeGrand’s breath. Barely noticeable. I hoped my parents hadn’t picked up on it too. “Why don’t you drive? I probably shouldn’t.” LeGrand said. I was just about to suggest we take my dad’s truck but driving the Beemer would definitely be more fun. LeGrand explained that his family left the car at Crystal Point year round.
“No problem. You probably don’t know your way around the other side of the bay anyway. Have you ever been there?”
“Can’t say I have,” LeGrand pulled his seatbelt across his chest and pointed to the start button when it became obvious I was looking for a key and a hole to put it into. “Make sure your foot’s on the brake or it won’t start.”
“So how did you find my house?” It was the question I’d been waiting to ask.
“Lots of folks at Crystal Point know where Pat Fremont, the golf pro, lives.”
“And the ones who know are willing to share that information?” I was thinking about employee privacy issues and whether those even existed here.
“Let’s just say someone who knows was willing to share the information with a charming scoundrel.”
“And who would that someone be?”
But LeGrand wouldn’t say.
__________
I drove over the bridge and into the guts of Sugar Dunes, the part of the city where normal people lived and worked. LeGrand stared out the window at the long stretches of budget motels, car dealerships, and fast food restaurants. A dead basset hound had been dragged off the road and left half hanging over the sidewalk.
“Now that’s a sight you don’t see every day,” LeGrand said thoughtfully and respectfully, almost as though he wished he did see sights like that every day.
I pulled into Nguyen’s parking lot, which was empty since it was after hours. Mai’s family lived in a house in back of the market which was even smaller than mine.
“Nguyen’s,” LeGrand said. Except what he said came out sounding more like oowin’s which was pretty close to the way I heard Mai say it.
“How did you know how to pronounce it?”
“Our chef buys all our seafood here and that’s how he says it. I’ve never seen it before, though. Is this where Mai lives?”
“This is her family’s place.”
“Small world.” The perpetual half smile of his expanded into a grin of sudden delight. Like he’d just figured out the surprise ending of a movie a full thirty seconds before the plot twist is revealed.
“What’s the joke? I feel left out.”
“What joke?” He looked over at me, surprised.
“I don’t know . . . that little smile you always have on your face. It’s like you’re thinking about a joke nobody else is in on.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Babe. It’s just the way my mouth is shaped.”
I laughed.
“But if I ever figure it out, I’ll let you know,” he said, the smile lifting the corners of his lips. “Any more questions?”
“Why do you drink so much?”
I’m not exactly sure where those words came from. For the first time since I’d known him, the line of his mouth went straight.
“How about you show me where Mai lives? She might be thinking we got lost.”
__________
Mai got the idea to go to an oyster bar for dinner and she knew just the right one. It couldn’t have been the décor of the place that made it special. The neon light out front was spitting and hissing its dying breaths. Part of the sign had already gone dark, leaving a headless flamingo under a leafless palm tree. The most important word, Oyster, was still visibly spelled out in lime green, although barely. Its partner word Shack had gone the way of the flamingo’s head.
The story inside was not much better. A formica-topped counter was the main gathering place, although there were a few tiny tables in a corner so dark that I couldn’t tell if anyone was sitting there. Most of the fake red leather covers of the bar stools were partially split, white fibrous material protruding from the torn spots like gaping wounds. Too much pounding of too many butts over too many years.
“Princess Mai!” The huge bald guy behind the counter hollered out his greeting. “How’s my girl?”
“Hey, Georgie. These are my friends Babe and LeGrand.” And then to us she explained, “Summer’s not oyster season but if there are any fresh oysters to be found, Georgie will have them.”
“I think we can rustle something up for your friends,” he winked at us. “You know what they say, any friend of Mai’s . . .”
This was my first experience with raw oysters on the half shell. Spritzed with lime juice, dipped in a horseradish sauce, eaten with plenty of saltine crackers, and washed down with Dr. Pepper. Of course it doesn’t hurt to finish up with a slice of Key Lime pie. And along with a whole lot of talking, that’s exactly what went down that night at the Oyster Shack.
__________
“So what’s going on with the FAB program,” Mai asked. “Is it still FABulous?” Mai was semi-obsessed with the program that really annoyed her.
Ever the loyal employee, I felt obligated to defend it once again. I knew LeGrand wouldn’t.
“It’s going well. Some of the kids are getting pretty good. And Kiet still loves it.” I looked over at LeGrand. “Kiet’s mom and Nuggin’s mom are friends.”
LeGrand tossed an oyster down his throat and chuckled. “Kiet’s a trip,” he murmured noncommittally.
“How about your friend, LeGrand?” Mai asked with a seriously sarcastic emphasis. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s not really all that interested,” LeGrand didn’t take the bait. “But he’s a good dude.”
“So what’s your motivation for doing it?” Mai wouldn’t stop. “I get Mattie Lynn’s motivation and it has college essay written all over it.”
I loved Mai’s directness. It’s part of what drew me to her in the first place, but at that moment I squirmed uncomfortably even though I knew LeGrand was a big boy and could handle himself just fine.
“My motivation? My motivation is ML asked me to do it. You’d have to ask her what her motivation is, but I suggest you don’t jump to conclusions based on your preconceived notions about her.”
LeGrand was getting tired. Maybe he’d had too much to drink before coming to my house, or maybe it was just the closeness of Georgie’s Oyster Shack where only a fan blew the heat and humidity out the screened back door.
“Okay, fair enough,” Mai said. “What do you think, Babe?”
“I think . . . I guess I just feel bad for Alonso. He so clearly doesn’t want to be there and it seems like a waste of his time. As for Mattie Lynn, I think she might be a better person than you realize, Mai. She really seems to care for Kiet.”
“Well, I haven’t exactly spent any quality time with her.” Mai looked like she was thinking hard about something. “Let’s go kidnap Alonso right now and get to the bottom of this.”
“Kidnap Alonso?”
“I don’t really mean kidnap him. Let’s the three of us go hang with him and spend some time getting to know him.” I could tell Mai didn’t want the night to end and might have been sensing LeGrand’s waning energy.
“Number one,” I said. “He doesn’t make eye contact with me and doesn’t even like to talk to me, so I doubt he’d open up to us.”
“Does he talk to you?” Mai asked LeGrand.
“Yup,” LeGrand said. “That’s about all we do. But I wouldn’t say we reveal any deep dark secrets to each other.”
“Number two,” I went on. “We have no idea where he lives.”
“I could talk to him tomorrow, try to get a sense for if he’d like to hang out sometime,” LeGrand said. “But for now I’d better get home. I’m about to fall asleep.”
By the time we took Mai home, LeGrand was already nodding off, but he roused himself long enough to roll down his window as she walked toward her door.
“You’re a gifted artist! Love the picture,” he said.
She looked confused for a minute until she realized what picture he was talking about. She smiled and waved back at him, her black silky hair swallowed up by the black silky night.
__________
Thankfully LeGrand didn’t have far to go after we got to my house and he took over the driving.
He was a nice guy, I decided. Too bad his dad was such a jerk.
And too bad about his drinking thing, whatever that was all about.