Born To Be Wild

TWELVE

Her mother started to say something, but suddenly held it back, with an expression not unlike a soap actor’s before a commercial break. What was this about? Mary Lisa prodded a bit. “She was excited, said he was rich and handsome, and not a sleaze like the guys down in L.A. She ended it with ‘I might marry him, who knows?’”

Mary Lisa had said enough. She knew a minefield when she saw one. Had Prince Charming’s crown lost its luster? Had he belched at dinner? Or worse, said something distressingly common in her mother’s hearing?

Her mother sipped her tea, shrugged indifferently.

“Kelly called it off, two days ago.”

“Goodness, why?”

“I believe she called him a controlling jerk.”

“That’s a surprise. She sure was high on him last week. What happened?”

“Who knows? Sometimes a girl’s blinders come off before it’s too late.”

“Who is this jerk? Is he local? She never told me his name.”

“John Goddard.”

“John Goddard. Hmmm. I think I remember him, at least I remember his name. I was pretty young when he left to go back east to college, right?”

“That’s right. It’s a pity he turned out to be unsatisfactory since his family is one of the families in the area. They own a good deal of property and business interests in and around Goddard Bay. At first your father and I were very pleased, but apparently he didn’t suit her.” She looked toward the fireplace and frowned.

Mary Lisa wondered why Kelly had really changed her mind. Most girls, and especially Kelly, could tell whether a guy was a jerk pretty fast-it wasn’t usually a sudden epiphany.

Maybe this John Goddard was a selfish lover, that would certainly be a deal breaker, even qualify him as a jerk.

She said, “Kelly’s young and pretty, there’ll be lots of men who come her way.”

“Yes, of course. After Jared, we thought-well, never mind that. It’s water under the bridge.”

“What bridge? Who’s Jared?”

Her mother flapped her hands. “Oh, all right. Jared Hennessey was a mistake, nothing more, over quickly. He’s gone, moved out of town. She’s quite over him. I think Kelly’s grown to be as beautiful as Monica. Maybe even more so. She has her degree in communications from Oregon State University, an excellent field, and she could do anything she wants to do. She could be an actress like you if she wanted to, so many people have told her that after they’ve watched you on TV. But I don’t think she would be happy in Los Angeles-it’s so plastic and cheap and they expect the women to be whores to get anywhere.”

Mary Lisa absorbed the multiple blows without a whimper. It had been three years and yet it seemed like yesterday. Nothing ever changed-sad, but true. But the difference now was that she had thicker skin. She said easily, “I believe the whore part had some truth to it in the bad old days, for both men and women actually.”

“How pathetic.” Her mother picked up her teacup and looked over the rim at her middle daughter, one corner of her mouth curled up in a hint of a smile. “Aren’t you going to ask about Monica?”

“How is Monica doing?”

“She getting ready to run for the Oregon House of Representatives.”

I’ve fallen into the Twilight Zone. “Monica, a politician? Her degree is in art history. She’s hardly even voted.”

“So what? She’s gorgeous, bright, and knows how to get what she wants. The incumbent’s weak, too old for the energy it takes to get things done, and has broken his promises too many times now.” That sounded memorized, like she was spouting the party line.

“There are-what, sixty state representatives, if I remember my civics class?”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, two-year terms. They meet on the second Monday in January in odd years. The sessions usually last about six months, but she’ll be serving on interim committees after that to study issues scheduled to come up in the next legislative session. She wouldn’t have to spend all her time in Salem.”

Mary Lisa agreed with her mother. Monica would make an excellent politician. It wasn’t any calling for public service, it was the draw of power and notoriety that would be attracting her sister. Monica had always wanted to be standing in the spotlight, center stage, more than Mary Lisa. Now that she considered it, Monica and politics were a perfect fit. “She’ll be good. She’s ambitious and focused and she’s tough.”

“The Board of County Commissioners certainly think she’s a strong candidate. They’re saying she could be a state senator by the time she’s thirty-five. I’m glad to see you’re over your snit with her, Mary Lisa.”

Mary Lisa cocked her head slightly to one side and put on her best poker face. “What snit would that be, Mother?”

“Your resentment of your sister ever since she married Mark Bridges. It’s time you got over it and moved on.”

What was she to say to that? Of course there was some truth to it. She remembered what an infatuated twit she’d been, ready to leave L.A. and her brand-new role as Sunday Cavendish on Born to Be Wild, forget all about an acting career for the dubious privilege of becoming Mark Bridges’s wife, move back to Goddard Bay and-what? Thank the good Lord that noodle-brained, rudderless Mary Lisa Beverly no longer existed. She seemed like a stranger from another lifetime. Mark Bridges was as handsome as Brad Pitt playing Achilles but without the rough edges. No, he was as smooth as a rock in a creek bed, and, unfortunately, faithless as a French ally. Had she really been that stupid, that recently? Yes, she had, but that was before she became a bonafide grown-up, even if she did have some goo left in her otherwise solid center. Mary Lisa smiled, a joyous, full-bodied smile, and sat forward a little. “Between us, Mother, let me tell you that I send endless thanks heavenward that Monica took Mark away from me. Imagine if I’d married him before he betrayed me.” She actually shuddered.

Her mother’s voice was sharp. “You make it sound inevitable, his betrayal.”

“I think he’s that kind of man.”

“That’s your bitterness talking, Mary Lisa, your envy. Mark would never betray Monica. He worships her. Nor was it really betrayal. After all, you weren’t married, and that was the whole point. There were no vows to break. He married Monica; he would never look at another woman now.”

Mary Lisa grinned. “If he did, Monica would cut off his b-ah, she’d make him sorry he was ever born.”

Red stained her mother’s cheeks. “Is that the way you talk down in Los Angeles?”

“Well, it seems to be the way everyone speaks most everywhere unless they’re with their mothers and then they catch themselves. As I did.”

Her mother swiftly got to her feet, smoothed down her lovely cream linen slacks. “We eat dinner at six. You’ll need time to get yourself together, Mary Lisa. You can go up now.” She nodded and left the living room. Mary Lisa slowly ate some more spice cake. Welcome home, Mary Lisa. She wondered yet again as she climbed the stairs what had brought her here from L.A. Maybe it was some vague sense she’d be safe at home. Well, perhaps her body might be safer here, but not her spirit.