The Café, Santa Barbara, 1998
“The music swells, titles appear, the audience breaks into wild applause, and the lights come up slowly!” Maddie tossed her arms into the air, just missing the waiter holding a tray laden with bowls of steaming albondigas soup and sizzling #4 Combination Plates. “Oops … sorry,” she said with a grimace to the ashen-faced young man. He gave her a feeble smile and moved on.
Kate put her head in her hands. “Disaster averted again.”
“Ah, living on the edge, that’s me!” Maddie was in an excellent mood this afternoon. Green Lagoon was finally bringing in nice residuals, and there was talk of a movie in the future. She was well into the final chapters of Green Valley and thinking about a third book to be called Green Plantation when she finished writing Rebecca’s diaries for their book.
“So—what do you think of my diary writings?” she asked.
“They’re great, Mad.”
“Dramatically, they’re perfect! I feel as if I am channeling Rebecca. Daniel Day-Lewis and maybe even Sharon Stone if she wants a comeback movie … Okay, so I’m getting ahead of myself.”
Kate giggled. “We’re going to be rich and famous, like—sure! So how goes it with Green Valley?”
“Well, my tours for Lagoon have been pretty exhausting. And then both Winston and Diana decided to move in with me … The Seattle apartment just wasn’t big enough. I’ve bought a house. Katie, you’ll love it—sits on a hill overlooking the sound. Plenty of room for visitors. It is all forested behind me, and deer come right up to my back door.”
“Seems like there is never time to go anywhere right now.” Kate’s face darkened. “The city council seems hell-bent on making our waterfront area a millionaire’s playhouse. They’re using every means at their disposal to ram these project through—”
“Nope … stop it. I do not want to hear about your ongoing struggles to hold back progress. It’s gonna happen, sister dear, and there is nothing that you can do about it.” Maddie looked around the Café brightly, unconsciously hoping to see some of her old acquaintances so that she might have somebody else to talk with beside her dreary sister.
“I wish that I had your talent for avoidance,” muttered Kate sourly, taking a long drink of her wine.
“I sent the Nature Defense Center a very large check, if you recall,” Maddie replied. “What do you want me to do? Picket? Immolate myself?”
“It might come in handy, my dear. Maybe we’ll do just that. Use you for publicity.”
“Why don’t you ask Rob Lowe? He’s sitting right over there—and he is even more gorgeous in person than on the television. By the way, you’re looking rather well, I must say, except for that gloomy frown. That green suit looks great. I wish that I could wear those short skirts,” said Maddie after a long silence.
“Thanks. I was in court all morning. Guess who was there too?”
“Can’t. Michael Jackson? O. J.? Pamela Anderson?”
“Cute. No—our dear brother James, one of the developers.”
“Hmmm,” responded Maddie thoughtfully. “I need another martini.”
“They don’t care that this is the last parcel on the entire coast for the monarch butterflies to roost. James cannot understand why a ‘stupid insect,’ as he calls them, should ruin somebody’s chance to ravage their own land. Property ownership is such an artificial concept—”
“Eat something, dear sister. You’re obviously hungry!” chirped Maddie.
James Cobham was not happy. It had hurt him more than he could have imagined when he saw the contempt in his sister’s eyes as they arrived in the courtroom that morning. She thought that he was a greedy ravager, and he considered her an idealistic fool. He had considered himself impervious to this sort of sentiment. I’m not feeling well tonight, he thought. Either that, or I’m going soft. It never much mattered to him what his sisters thought about his business before. Why did it matter now?
Kate should be making big money in partnership with an influential law firm, and she had chosen to throw her life away on a man who rejected her and on lost causes. James did not understand.
Now he sat at the bar of the Café, hidden among crowds waiting to be called to their tables for dinner. Jack Ward, the owner of the Café, was tending bar. He was a tall, thin, amiable man and a shrewd host. James always enjoyed it when Jack had a moment to talk with him, since the man knew everything about everybody in Santa Barbara. Part of the Café’s success was due to Jack’s clever management and superbly trained staff. James only wished that his wife, Eleanor, could manage their home as well as Jack managed his Café.
“So—how goes it?” asked Jack when he had a brief spare moment. He was well aware that James was looking miserable and probably needed to talk.
James shrugged. “The usual. Fighting all of the bureaucrats.”
Jack nodded briefly in seeming agreement. “How’s Eleanor?”
“Great—off in a golf tournament. Palm Springs. As usual.”
“Your sisters are having dinner over in the corner. Maddie brought me a copy of her new book,” Jack said lightly, and continued pouring vodka into the martini shaker. “You must be proud of her.”
James shrugged. “She’s making a mint on that book. She and Katie get together every few months to hash out family matters and trade stories. They cluck like two old hens.” He paused. “Guess we’re getting old.”
Jack laughed companionably and mentioned briefly that he and his wife had just returned from visiting older relatives in Greece. “I advised Emily to get the old family tales from them. Katie told me to do it while they were still alive.”
“Yeah, sometimes my sister gives good advice,” mumbled James, tossing off what remained of his bourbon.
Jack, sensing that James was less than delighted with the turn of conversation, turned away to attend to another customer. James sat silently for a time, and then ordered another drink. He didn’t seem to notice that there was more ice than bourbon in the new glass.
“You knew my brother Geoff, didn’t you?” asked James suddenly.
Jack paused, assembling the ingredients for one of his famous margaritas. “We went to school together for a while. Then Geoff went to boarding school somewhere after your mom died. I didn’t see him after that.” He poured tequila, some triple sec, ice, and several other ingredients into the blender and ran it for a few moments before coating two glass rims with salt and pouring the drinks.
“Damn, I don’t know how you do that. You just eye the liquor and mix it up and it always turns out right,” commented James.
Jack Ward laughed. “Years of practice,” he replied, his hazel eyes scanning the room to make certain that all was as it should be.
“Geoff is in San Francisco. He’s dying,” announced James, lifting his drink and swirling the ice thoughtfully. “We haven’t spoken to each other in five years, and now my brother is dying. I called him a ‘goddamned faggot,’ and he simply turned and walked away from me.”
Jack raised his bright dark eyes to James’s face for a moment. “That must have been hard for you both,” he said diplomatically.
James shrugged. “You know, Dad died and hadn’t spoken to Geoff in nearly twenty years when he died. He considered Geoff dead.” There was a long silence. “He’s got AIDS and he’s dying.”
Jack shook his head in mute sympathy. “Do Katie and Maddie know?” he asked.
“Yes. They visit him. Of course, they never called him a ‘goddamned faggot.’” James scowled. “Sorry. Sometimes it isn’t as easy to shake things off as it used to be.”
Jack Ward nodded. “We all feel that way,” he said. A few minutes later he turned over the bartending duties to an employee and moved with skilled cordiality through the restaurant. He greeted familiar patrons, was introduced to new faces, and offered a couple of quick suggestions to his new waiter. When he passed by Kate and Maddie’s table, he paused, smiled, and leaned down. “I think that you might check on your brother at the bar,” he said quietly.
Kate smiled gratefully. “We hadn’t seen him. Thanks, my friend.” Jack Ward moved quickly back toward the kitchens. Maddie grimaced.
“I’ll go get brother dear and bring him over to our sheltering arms!”
Maddie disappeared into the crowd and soon reappeared with James in tow. “Have you had dinner?” asked Maddie. “I’m playing big sister here—and I want you to eat before we take you home.”
“I’m not hungry,” mumbled James. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do, either.”
“Oh cut it out, James,” snapped Kate. “We’re trying to keep you from embarrassing yourself or worse.”
“Yeah, right. Like you did in court this morning with my project. My own sister—”
“James, even you can’t be dumb enough to think that there is going to be no impact to the monarch butterfly migration if you bulldoze all of those trees. I’m glad that the judge is requiring that full environmental impact report,” Kate retorted.
“Do you know how much that damned thing is going to cost?” began James, frustrated with her lack of comprehension.
“Stop it. Both of you, or I’m out of here,” snapped Maddie.
The waiter appeared at that moment, and Maddie ordered James a rib-eye steak and salad, with iced tea to wash it down. She smiled charmingly at the waiter, and dared James to contradict her.
“When you two are in court, you’re playing roles. Now let’s play ‘Happy Family,’” she ordered. “Then we’ll take you home.”
James was silent for most of the trip up to Aunt Bette’s home, where Kate dropped Maddie off. He belched only once on the windy road from the Riviera to Montecito, and drew threats from his sister when he threatened to throw up in her car.
“James, I will take your ears off if you mess up my car!”
“You’re in a terrible mood tonight, Katie. I thought that you’d be celebrating your remarkable performance in court. You made my attorneys look as if they couldn’t tell an EIR from an enema …”
“Thanks. Nice to get a compliment at last, brother dear,” replied Kate sourly. “Do you have your key?”
“Nope … have a security system now. We punch it in to open the doors.”
“You must have something worth protecting in there. Good night, brother.”
“Katie—what’s wrong?” asked James, suddenly realizing that his sister was obviously anxious to get rid of him and was definitely more moody than usual tonight.
Kate paused, not sure if she should answer him. “I had a call from my son. He and Jerome are coming home next week.”
“Shit. That asshole Jerome …,” muttered James. “Well, don’t let it get to you. You’re worth ten of your ex-husband’s bimbos. If I were younger, I’d offer to beat the crap out of him.” He well remembered his sister’s grief when she and her husband split up. Katie had been a thin ghost for months, and James had been angry at his own helplessness. After all—she was his little sister!
She smiled unexpectedly and leaned over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, James. All compliments accepted tonight. Now take some aspirin before you go to bed, drink a lot of water, and sleep until noon.”
He opened the car door. The night was cool and damp, with fog creating halos around his bright landscape lighting. His head was foggy already. He staggered as he went toward the gate, and in a moment Kate’s arms were around him.
“Okay, big brother, I’ll take you up to beddie bye,” she teased. “Who would have guessed that I’d be opposing you in court in the morning and helping you into your house at night!”
James swore under his breath and punched in the code on the keypad by his elaborate front door. They tumbled into the elegant tiled foyer, lights going on automatically as they moved through the silent halls of the big modern home.
“Just help me up to my den and leave me to my misery.”
“Okay, but don’t take me down these stairs with you. Can’t Eleanor remodel without creating all of these different elevations?” asked Kate as they navigated two short stairways.
“Nope. She says that it is creating interest for the eye—but she and the kids are never here to get interested,” James muttered as he flopped onto a couch in his wood-paneled den. Kate went into the adjoining bathroom and hunted around for some aspirin.
James, despite his inebriation, lurched up and pulled back a shelf of false books to reveal a line of liquor bottles and glasses. He sloshed some cognac into two snifters and held one out to Kate.
“Something to wash down the aspirins?” she asked.
“I’m going to be sick anyway tomorrow. Sit down for a moment. I have something that I want to say to you.”
Kate sighed, glancing at her wristwatch. “It is late.”
“I had a bad dream the other night,” James began, dropping onto the sofa and kicking off his loafers. “I read that stuff that you and Maddie are writing, and had a damned nightmare about them.”
Kate took a sip of cognac and sank beside him on the sofa. “Who?”
“You know—them. Those old men.”
She still looked blank.
“Old William, and some lordly noble old fart—one of the Cobham earls, I think. And dumb Grandpa John. Way, waaaay back …”
“Oh, you mean the ancestors we’re writing about?” she asked.
“Yes. I dreamed that I met them in some squalid tavern. They offered me hot cider. The smells were awful, and they were reminding me that I was going to join them and rot someday. It was awful.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I mean, it was really awful. They were telling me what a loser I had become—and I woke up in a cold sweat,” he explained, staring into the distance as if he could still see the men, lurking in the smoke of that miserable room. “I think that it was hell!”
“Ah, the voice of your own conscience!” Kate tried to make light of her brother’s miserable mood. She shuddered. “I certainly never imagined them in a sleazy tavern. Sorry that you were upset.”
“The dream reminded me that what we do here just don’t mean a thing, little sister. Don’t mean a damned thing. If I build houses all over a piece of property or you get it put into some nature preserve, it don’t mean squat!” James polished off his cognac in one swallow.
“It means something to me,” said Kate slowly.
“Shit, Katie—even if we humans fuck ourselves up, the planet will go on. I studied enough science to realize that. Most species die out—wait until the next asteroid hits and I’ll show you some landscape changes!” He laughed sourly.
“You’ve been watching the Discovery Channel again,” she snapped. “We have to try, James.”
“Try what? The only thing that would really help this world is if we got rid of about half of the people on it, and gave most of the remainder birth control! Shit, I’m so tired of you sanctimonious liberal types trying to save the world, but you haven’t got the guts to say that popping out kids like there was no tomorrow is wrong, wrong, and just fuckin’ dumb!” James threw his snifter across the room, and it landed on the plush carpeting unbroken. “Hell, I can’t even break a glass tonight!”
Kate decided not to argue with her brother. “James—just let it rest.”
“Katie, get yourself a better job. Get rich. Find a sexy young stud and play around. Have fun. We’ll be dead for a looooong time!”
Kate finished her cognac. “James, let’s talk about this later. I might enjoy a philosophical.”
“Ah, give it up, Katie. It’s all for nothing. You’ve become so depressing that you lost your husband. You’re the oldest little sister I know!” He settled back, closed his eyes, and belched. Kate found a woven comforter on the back of a nearby chair and draped it over her semi-reclined brother.
“Go to sleep, James. I’ll see myself out.” She paused. “I can’t give it up. I don’t know why, but something inside just won’t let me give up—”