Chapter two: When worlds collide
Kimmie's breath is warm against my chest when I wake up.
I love the way she seems to attach herself to me while I sleep.
I'll never admit it, though. But it makes me feel safe, and real to have her arms around me.
It's also making it hard for me to get up without waking her.
It's strange that I have Theresa on my mind before I'm even fully awake.
Eva's dead.
I don't regret coming home for the night, but I want to get back.
I get a quick shower and Kimmie's awake and sultry when I step out.
She looks so good lying on my bed with her hair all splayed out on the pillows. "Hey."
"Hey."
"You going back to Theresa's today?"
"Yeah." I don't know how Kimmie's going to react to this but I have to go. Kimmie's always been a little possessive, but she's got this look on her face that's slightly predatory.
"Can I come with you?" I didn't see that coming.
"You don't have to do that. You don't even know Theresa," I say, turning to grab some clothes.
"But you do. And you loved her mom. I want to be there for you," she says, walking up behind me and putting a hand on my back. "Please?"
"I don't know, Kimmie, it isn't exactly going to be a barrel of laughs. It's going to be Theresa and her family…"
"I promise I won't get in the way. The Cohens are going to support you…"
I can't deny that. The Cohens don't know Eva either. But Kirsten was such a help yesterday and I know that nothing I would say will make them not come with me. I have a feeling Kimmie's going to be the same way.
This is definitely a side of Kimmie that I haven't seen before.
"Ryan?"
"Okay…" I relent and she kisses my neck softly.
"I'm going to run to my car to grab some clothes before you change your mind…" she says,
As soon as she walks out of the pool house, my phone rings.
"Hello?"
"It's me," Theresa says.
"Hey. How're you doing?"
"Better." I wait for her to continue but she doesn't.
"I should be there soon…"
"You don't have to come so early…" she whispers.
"I want to. Kimmie…she's coming with me."
"Oh? Well, I've been wanting to meet her, I guess this is as good a time as any," she says.
"If you don't want…"
"Ryan. I think it's good that she's supporting you. And Ramon's going to be around, too."
"He didn't stay with you?"
"With all my aunts in the house? No, Ryan. Unfortunately my family's not as liberal as the Cohens…Ma liked him, though."
"He must be a good guy if your mom liked him," I say quietly.
She laughs quietly. "Nobody could ever replace you in Ma's heart, Ryan. Believe me, every guy that I've dated has always heard her rave about you."
I don't really know what to say and she doesn't either.
"I'll see you soon, Ryan. And…thanks. For everything…"
"You don't have to thank me, Theresa. You know…"
"I know," she says before I can complete my thought. She knows I loved Eva.
Kimmie steps in with a bag. It never fails to amaze me how she's always prepared for anything. She smiles at me as I lower the phone. "Do I have time for a shower?"
"Sure."
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Ryan's quiet on the drive down and he seems to get more tense the further out of Newport we get.
I've never been to a place so 'low rent' but I'll never admit that to Ryan. It's like this city is shaded with some kind of gritty filter, as soon as we hit the city limits of Chino, everything's painted with graffiti and filth.
I can't imagine growing up here.
"It's not too much further," he says quietly.
"Okay." I want to tell him not to sound so down, but we are on the way to bury someone he loved so I can't really think of anything to say that doesn't sound stupid.
"You okay?"
"You're asking me? God, Ryan…"
"Sorry," he smiles shyly, letting me take his hand.
"Can I ask you…how well you knew her?"
"Yeah…well, I…I knew her pretty well. She took care of me a lot when I was younger. My mom…you know about my mom, she wasn't really the best mom. But Eva was. Eva was, like, everyone's mom."
"Wow. I'm…I'm really sorry, Ryan. Sandy told me how you took care of her last summer…I can't even imagine."
Ryan doesn't glance my way as he drives, avoiding my gaze. I know now that the only way to really read him is to look at his eyes. "It was hard seeing her so sick. She was always so independent, she was always taking care of other people and she couldn't even take care of herself. But she'd sprung back and gotten better…I think that's what makes this even harder, knowing that she'd gotten so much better lately."
There's nothing I can say in response to that. He's not even hiding his pain now, I can see it in the lines on his face.
"Did you tell Theresa I was coming?" I know he was talking to her when I came in to get a shower, even though he didn't tell me.
"Yeah. She's okay with it."
"Okay. I should have asked that right away, since we're going to her house."
"We're actually here now," Ryan says, parking the Rover on the street.
I don't get out of the car right away, I'm too busy trying to file everything away. The porch, the flowery curtains, the faded paint on the outside. "This is where you lived?"
"Yeah. Not exactly the pool house," he murmurs, taking the keys out. He meets my eyes for a moment and nods outside again. "That's my old house," he says.
I turn and glance at the crumbling house.
"Let's go inside," he says quietly.
I follow him inside and I'm grateful when he takes my hand as we walk onto the porch.
I expect him to knock but he pulls open the screen door and leads me inside.
The house is buzzing with people and I'm surprised to see this many people up and moving around this early in the morning.
"Ryan…" one of the ladies calls and she starts muttering to him in Spanish. He doesn't let go of my hand as he hugs her with one arm.
I've never heard Ryan speak Spanish before but he obviously knows a little because he manages to make the old lady smile.
"Where's Theresa?" he asks her and she nods toward the other room.
"I don't think she got any sleep at all," the lady says, giving me a polite, if cold smile.
"Come on, Kimmie, let's see what we need to do," Ryan tells me softly, putting a hand on my lower back to guide me.
He's almost protective, afraid to leave me in the den of older Hispanic ladies and I'm secretly grateful. My Spanish is almost nonexistent and these ladies are not looking at me like they want to make friends. They're looking at me like I grabbed the last slice of cheese off the snack tray.
"You know all those ladies?" I ask and he glances at me for a split second with those dark blues.
"They're Theresa's family. We've met," he answers quietly, lowering his gaze.
"Ryan, thank god, the hot water heater's broken again and there are people that I promised a shower…oh. Hi."
The exotic brunette clinging to my boyfriend has to be Theresa.
Well.
She disentangles her arms from around Ryan's waist and doesn't manage to hide her blush or her suspicion when she gives me her full attention.
"I'm Kimmie," I say. Time to find out if I can be the girlfriend that makes friends with the ex or the girlfriend that throws down with the ex at her mom's wake.
She shakes my hand and despite our politeness, my radar is at red alert.
Theresa is standing entirely too close to Ryan. And when I look closer, I can see that he has the hand that was on my back strategically placed on her shoulder now. He's touching her. But his eyes are on me, almost pleading.
Her mother died. I can get a grip. "Is there anything I can do?"
"That's okay…" Theresa starts, but Ryan murmurs something inaudible. Huh. They've got a secret language, too? What other secrets do they have?
"Can you help arrange the food? Put spoons in things that need them and put out the paper plates and cups? Everyone that comes in seems to bring some more food…" Theresa said, pursing her lips and motioning toward the kitchen.
"I'll be in shortly," Ryan said. "Thanks, Kimmie."
And he turns and walks out of the room with her.
God, I am such a bitch.
But I'm Ryan's bitch and dead mother or not, I'm not going to lose him.
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Theresa's on the edge of tears by the time we get to the laundry room where the hot water heater is and I take her in my arms.
Kimmie's got to understand that Theresa needs me right now. I don't want to have to worry about her jealousy or whatever those narrowed eyes were about right now.
Eva's gone and she's never coming back.
"I'm sorry, Ryan…this is just so hard…all these people here and all talking about Mom and…I can't think about anything else, but I have to entertain and talk to everyone…"
"Shh…" I whisper, stroking her hair.
She's changed shampoos.
"I'm so glad you're here," she says.
"Sorry it took me so long…I could've stayed…" I start but she shakes her head, pulling away and steadying herself as I support her waist.
"No. I needed you to be rested today. I mean…I'm sorry that…"
"Theresa, it's Eva…you don't have to apologize to me," I whisper and hold her tightly again as she cries. "You know I'm here for you…"
"You always are…" she chokes.
We stand like that for a while, appreciating the quiet.
"I'll fix the water heater. Go get cleaned up and I'll get you when I'm done. All right?" I look at her and she finally nods, steadying herself and leaving for the bedroom.
It takes me a few minutes to get the machine humming again and by the time I put my tools away, Theresa's back and looking more composed.
"I'm done." I grab a paper towel off the dispenser against the wall and clean my hands that have gotten grimy from the work but I managed not to sully my clothes.
We take a couple of steps toward the kitchen but she stops, as if she remembers something. "Oh, wait here…"
I consider following her but she doesn't seem upset so I listen to her and stay where I am.
I hope Kimmie's doing okay. I'm pretty impressed with the way she handled meeting Theresa, though. She kept her claws in.
"Can you put this on for me? The clasp is broken and I can't…"
"You still haven't fixed this necklace?" I ask, remembering the gold chain with the cross on it. Her mother had given it to her on her 15th birthday and she rarely took it off. The clasp had to be hooked on a link of the chain instead of the small hook because it was broken.
But at least now I knew what to send her for Christmas.
I took the chain and separated it with my fingers, opening it.
"Thanks," she smiled, leaning her head forward and holding her thick hair aside so I could connect the necklace around her neck.
I glance up after I clasp it and see Kimmie looking at us from the kitchen, a frown on her lips. She turns and disappears from the doorway.
"Did you see Aunt Margarita? She asked about you," Theresa said, straightening her shoulders and taking my hand.
I let her lead me back into the busy living room and I see Seth and Summer standing like deer in headlights by the door with several of Theresa's cousin.
"You better go check on them," Theresa whispers, the trace of smile on her lips.
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The thing is – I will be supportive; I want to be there for Ryan, and I want him to feel that, to know that, but damn, I can't help being jealous of her. When I see her leaning against him for support, crying in his arms, when I see them exchanging quiet glances, when he places his hand on her neck, her back, her waist without any hesitation, like they belong to each other, I want to kill her.
I know I am childish, and stupid, and that she's in shock and needs all the help she can get. I know Ryan and her have more history than Mrs. Chadwick's classes on the Civil War. But whenever I remember that last summer she was going to have Ryan's baby, here, with him – I just have to force myself to look away instead of strangling her.
Bad, Kimmie, bad.
Which is why I have decided to take a breather and am leaning against a wall in the backyard, staring into space and wondering whether there are any errands to run to get me out of the house for a moment.
Suddenly I feel a hand on my arm.
It's Summer, dressed in a sober gray shirtdress – trust her to look elegant and appropriate.
"How are you coping? " she whispers into my ear. "Have you taken anything to help you deal with Theresa and the aunties?"
"Me? I'm straight and sober as a judge," I tell her with a smile. Thank God, another outsider to keep me company.
"Well then, it's about time you did." And with, Summer sits unceremoniously on the doorstep and pulls what appears to be a fat, ready-rolled joint out of her purse. "Now do you think we can get away with this here?"
I shake my head. "Nuh-uh. I don't think the aunts will appreciate. And you know what a grandma Ryan can be. Let's try and find an excuse to get out of here." I drag her up with one hand and she holds onto mine just a fraction longer than she normally would and looks me straight in the eye.
"Don't feel freaked out. Just because he's here doesn't mean that he doesn't…"
I cut her off. "I know."
And I do, I really do, but can I help it if I'm the jealous type?
So we go back into the kitchen and luckily it turns out the aunties do need stuff: more paper plates for the expected stream of visitors, ice – there's never enough ice – and maybe some paper towels, too…
Summer and I end up leaving with a whole list of stuff to get. None of it is urgent, though.
On my way out, I swing by Ryan – he's with Theresa and Kirsten, and they're talking about flowers, with Kirsten giving Theresa some sensible grownup advice, and Ryan holding her hand silently.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself physically removing her fingers from his. I will be supportive.
He looks up at us and I don't know if he figures out exactly what we're up to but he can see we need some space. Very gently, he takes Theresa's hand and puts it back on her lap and he gets up, stretching his shoulders as he does. Poor guy, he's carrying the weight of her grief on his back right now.
"Hey," he says, and he wraps his arm around me and pulls me into a hug. "What are you two up to?"
"Running errands," Summer says breezily. "We're going to get ice and shit from the local grocery store – is it far?"
"Straight down the road, take a left, and left again at the lights," he says, his voice muffled against my neck.
I breathe in his scent, nuzzling his neck slightly, and I resist the temptation to kiss him. Now is most certainly not the time. I focus on the warmth of his body, his steady heartbeat, the feel of his hand on my back. This is good.
Summer is driving, and we decide to do the shopping first, or else we'll end up forgetting everything. We focus on our task, totally, zoom through the store – it's pretty basic, not the usual Newport stuff – and load the car in record time. If there's anything we know how to do, it's shop.
On the way back, Summer pulls over near a small park. There are a few benches, some trees, a couple of swings, but it's pretty deserted.
"What do you think?" she asks.
"Definitely."
We select the most secluded bench – a couple of bushes screen it from the street, and it's not like there's a crowd of children to watch us. I get the distinct impression that the local kids don't hang out much here, except perhaps after dark, and a cursory check of the ground near the bushes confirms that. There's a few roaches and cigarette butts, some crushed beer cans, and the obligatory used condom.
"Ew!" says Summer, drawing her feet onto the bench. "This is just so… Chino!"
I laugh and pull out a lighter from my pocket. "Bring on the drugs, sister. We might as well behave like the locals."
She hands me the spliff and I spark it up, inhaling deeply. The smoke burns my lungs and throat, and I get an instant head rush. Wow, I really needed this. I hang onto it a little longer, just to get another couple of hits, before passing it back to her.
"Sorry. Emergency. I can't tell you how much I needed that."
"I can see it on your face," she says with a smile. "No need to apologize, Kimmie."
"So… how come you're here and Seth isn't?" I ask her, because this has been vaguely bugging me since she turned up.
She shrugs. "Seth dropped me off and went to pick up some relatives at the airport with one of Theresa's cousins. Apparently, there's a ton of family turning up from all over."
"You can say that again." I gave up keeping track of the names and numbers a while ago – I just say hello and nod politely. What little Spanish I have has been pressed into use, but in the main, I've been trying to keep busy and out of the way.
"You know, I think Ryan really appreciates you being here," she says suddenly, passing me the joint back in a cloud of fragrant smoke. "He's not, like, going to say anything, because he's a boy, and you know Chino, he doesn't speak much, but he does."
"You think? I feel like I'm the fifth wheel here, you know, the useless girlfriend who tagged along just to make sure her man didn't hook up with his ex during the funeral, or something."
Summer looks at me with concern. "You didn't really think that was going to happen, did you?"
I shake my head. "I wanted to have Ryan's back, you know – he's always had mine. But to be honest, it's been in the back of my mind, too. I mean, not that I think he would, but…" I sigh. "I just feel so out of place when I see them together."
"Oh, sweetheart, come here," Summer coos, and she opens her arms. I keep the joint out of the way and let her wrap me in a tight hug. I think it's the first time we've ever hugged, and it feels really nice.
"Don't feel paranoid. Just because Chino's here with her, and they have a history, doesn't mean squat. She's an old friend, and Eva was some sort of surrogate mom, but you're the one for him. Seriously, Kimmie, I've seen the way he looks at you. You have nothing to fear."
Maybe it's her kind words, or the pungent smoke, or the hug, but I can feel myself relaxing.
"Thanks," I mutter.
Her little hand is rubbing soothing circles on my back.
"I swear, when Seth and I were talking to him earlier, Ryan's face lit up when he said you were already there. No, really – it was like the one ray of light in the gloom. Even if you feel useless, it's great that you're here for him."
"Okay, enough with the pep talk, I'm beginning to blush," I say, and I am.
"Good. Now will you hand me this joint?"
We spend another ten minutes finishing it, and it's good stuff. I'm impressed with Summer, because as far as I know she doesn't usually indulge, but obviously she can score when she needs to, and she can certainly hold her own at the smoking end.
So I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. "Just because I'm not a complete stoner like you doesn't mean I'm, like, a total dork."
I elbow her in the ribs and we both collapse in a fit of giggles.
I like Summer. I've always had more male than female friends and it makes a nice change. I'm glad we overcame our original antipathy, because she's turned out to be a real friend. Once she realized I wasn't out to hurt Ryan, or use him, she opened up – and we have a lot more in common than we thought at first.
Except, of course, that she still thinks I'm a complete slut. Sure, she's not entirely wrong. It's just, these days, Ryan's the only guy who gets to reap the benefits.
"There's always the hero problem, though," Summer adds, almost as an afterthought.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, that's the thing Seth gets hung up on – you know, Ryan decides he has to take care of Theresa, which would probably mean bringing her to Newport, because I can't imagine the Cohens allowing Ryan to go back to Chino."
I look at her – maybe it's because I'm stoned, but I can't really tell whether she's serious or joking. I frown.
"You really think he'd do that?"
She shrugs, laughing. "Well, no. But sometimes I think Seth does worry about this, and, well, you never know, with Chino." She pauses, and looks me straight in the eye. "Do you think he would?"
Shit. I don't know. I really don't know. And maybe it's the weed but I am feeling paranoid all of a sudden.
"Maybe we should get going," I say.
"Before he gets any ideas?" Summer shoots back, and we both start giggling again. Man, I am stoned.
When we make it back to the house, it's twice as full as earlier, and the kitchen is like a mad hive of activity. We unload the Rover and then someone hands me piles of plates and forks and spoons and sends me to the yard, where the men are putting up trestle tables. I'm soon joined by Summer and a couple of cousins, and we're all being run off our feet by the aunts.
After a while, things calm down a little and I get a chance to take a break. There's a couple of guys smoking in a corner of the yard, and I feel a craving for nicotine, so I walk up to ask them for a cigarette. We've been passing covered dishes and food to each other for the past hour, so it's not like they're complete strangers.
They turn out to be cousins of Theresa's, Luis and Rodrigo, and they're a bit older, mid-twenties or something. Nice guys, friendly and both very sad about the death of Eva – who seems to have been their favorite aunt.
Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me and I turn around. It's another guy, good-looking and pretty aware of it, who smiles at me and nods at Rodrigo and Luis.
"Hey, we haven't met. My name's Ramon," he says, extending a hand, and I wonder if he's hitting on me, which would be weird in the circumstances. Especially since he must be a member of the bereaved family.
"Kimmie," I say, shaking his hand.
"So, you're a friend of Theresa's?" he asks, lighting a cigarette.
"Sort of," I say, hoping he won't ask me to explain, but he just accepts it.
We exchange a few pleasantries and I can't help but feel he's got ulterior motives. But he's not quite making a pass at me, so I can't turn him down unambiguously, either. Just as I'm thinking I want to move on, he leans in towards me and asks me if I'm from Chino, and his eyes linger on my cleavage. I can feel my hackles rising – the guy is definitely putting the moves on me.
And then I hear a growl behind me. "Oh my god, you fucking skank!" and I whip around. How dare she!
Theresa is standing there, eyes blazing, but she's not staring at me. Her eyes are on Ramon, who's looking aggrieved.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he retorts, and holy shit, this must be Theresa's boyfriend. Sleazy son of a bitch. But he is getting a real reaming for it, in English and Spanish, as Theresa lets rip.
"Hijo de puta!" she hisses, "Do you think I'm stupid? I saw the way you were looking at her. And by the way, thank you for all your help and support in this time of need. And to think mamacita liked you!"
"Hey, baby, come on," Ramon says, trying to sound soothing. There's a hint of panic in his eyes now. "Don't overreact – we were just talking. Right?" he adds turning to me.
I nod. Frankly, if I'd known he was Theresa's, I wouldn't have given him the time of day. How could the creep be trying it on with anyone else today of all days, at her dead mother's house?
"Overreact! What, you think I should kick back, relax? Chingate! My mama is dead, you asshole! And just when I need you to have my back, you…" and she makes a strangled little noise and bursts into tears. And out of the corner of my eye, I see someone approaching.
Uh-oh. It's Ryan.
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Jesus, this Ramon guy is a creep. I feel for Theresa – first Eddie, then me, now this piece of shit. She deserves better. And what kind of an asshole starts flirting with another girl at the wake for his girlfriend's mom?
Plus I really, really don't like the way he leered down Kimmie's top just then. And I'm pretty sure she didn't, either.
Fuck him – he's making Theresa cry. Asswipe.
I march up to Theresa and put my arm around her. Ramon has the balls to glare at me.
"Who the fuck are you?" he says, and if it wasn't for the fact that we're here to remember Eva, and Eva never liked it when I fought, I'd have decked him already.
I stare at him coldly. "Ryan Atwood. I'm an old friend of Theresa's."
"And he's my boyfriend," Kimmie adds helpfully, with a big smile at me. She's looking relieved, and there's a sparkle in her eye. She knows that given half a chance, I'd love to get into a fight with him.
Ramon has the good grace to look freaked out. Clearly, he knows who I am. Yeah, man, next time maybe you'll think twice about acting like a tool. I can tell he wants to apologize to me – he's got that look in his eyes – but he knows if he says anything Theresa will use it to clobber him. Squirm, asshole.
Theresa is starting to calm down and luckily this is when Seth reappears with a posse in tow, and another crowd of relatives descends on her. It's the Atlanta cousins, and Theresa seems really happy to see them.
Kimmie sidles up to me and wraps her arms around my waist.
"I'm sorry I even talked to the jackass," she says. "I thought he was checking me out and it was way out of place but God, if I'd known he was Theresa's boyfriend, I would have told him to fuck off."
"Oh. So this has nothing to do with me, then," I ask, amused.
She pokes one of her sharp nails into the small of my back. "Nothing. You know me, I'd go off with one of those smooth-talking cholos in the bat of an eyelid, stud." And she tosses her head back, her blonde curls cascading onto her shoulders, and gives me a little smirk. I can't help but notice that her eyes are a little bloodshot.
"I know what you're like when you're stoned," I murmur into her ear, and she immediately responds by nudging her hips against mine. I have to concentrate to stop myself getting a hard-on. Now is not the time.
Fortunately, Seth and Summer turn up and Kimmie has the good grace to back away a little, but she's still smirking at me. "Later," she mouths when our eyes meet. Yeah, later. Whenever that is.
The rest of the day goes by quickly – thanks to Kirsten, and to Theresa's aunt Rita, most of the funeral details are sorted out, and everything has been set in motion for the ceremony to take place in a couple of days.
There's a million practical things to arrange, though, with all the relatives staying over, and the tons of food that needs eating, but thanks to the aunts, who are used to feeding large families – and organizing funerals, for that matter – it runs smoothly.
Tonight, Theresa is coming to stay in Newport. She's surrendered the house to the Atlanta and San Diego people, and Kirsten has insisted that she needs to let someone else look after her for a change, and that she'll sleep better at the Cohens than in a house where everything reminds her of Eva.
The drive back is quiet, and when we get in Theresa goes straight to bed. She's exhausted, and I barely get a chance to say goodnight before she crashes in the guest bedroom. Kimmie came home with us, but won't be staying the night, not least because we are both feeling way too tired, and we need as much sleep as we can get before the funeral proper on Monday.
She walks me back to the pool house after we've been thoroughly debriefed by Sandy, who's spent the day going over a case due in court next week, calling every hour to find out how things were going.
When we get in, Kimmie pulls the blinds and locks the door behind us, then turns to face me.
"I wanted to say thank you for coming," I tell her before she says anything. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you."
She shrugs and makes a little wave of the hand to signify it doesn't matter, but I can tell she's pleased.
"Don't worry about it. But before I leave, there's something else I want to do for you," she says, and I know exactly what she means even before she kneels down at my feet because I can read her filthy mind. I try to tell her she doesn't have to do this but if truth be told, a blowjob feels like a fucking nice idea, and I could do with a stress reliever right now.
Besides, Kimmie is the best, no question. And she loves giving head – so how can I deny her?