Buddy (Cathedral City Part 4)

He knew it. He knew he should have paid more for the sign. He'd been pinching pennies for years just to buy the store, never mind adding the gas pump. But, he realized too late, you just shouldn't cut certain corners.

Buddy was just closing up when he heard the faint sizzle of the "Q" and the "u" burning out.

Now, in bold neon, his life's work was called "..icky Mart".

He shut the cash register drawer and leaned against the counter. He'd done everything right. The station was located next to a freeway entrance. He kept it clean and well stocked, even adding more health conscious snacks. He made sure the prices were reasonable and he was always polite. Always.

He'd been brought up that way. Manners were important in his family. And hard work. Being sensible and playing fair.

His whole life he'd played by the rules and all he had to show for it was the icky mart.

Eight years ago he thought he'd had it made. He'd known Becky since second grade and from the moment he saw her and her shiny red hair he'd felt like she was the one for him. They got married in her parents backyard when they were both twenty four.

He'd taken good care of her, he never doubted that. He'd done his best to love her well.

But Becky wanted more out of life. Or at least that's what she told him. "I want more, Buddy. I don't want to just sit around this dusty old town until I die. Don't you want more? Don't you?"

It felt to Buddy like she was pleading with him.

He'd told that he did, that's why he'd been saving up for the Quicky Mart. He told her his plans to add a gas pump and how that would bring in more money. That they could finally afford to move out of their apartment and buy a little house. Maybe even one with a pool. She'd looked at him like he was speaking Japanese. Just staring at him. Or past him. She left two days later.

For a while he'd waited for her to come back, but after two months he'd boxed up what she'd left behind.

He never knew how much Becky had liked to read. Half of what she owned were books. It made him feel sad for her. He never realized how big her dreams really were.

Buddy had dreams, too. Just different dreams, he guessed. He loved Cathedral City. He'd grown up here, just like his mom and dad had. He loved the look of the desert mountains at sunset, and the dry winds that blew.

And, if he were being really honest with himself, which he tried very hard to be, he didn't miss Becky all that much. Oh, he missed her company. Someone to have breakfast with, go to the movies with, someone to sit out on the porch with on a warm, cozy evening. But he didn't really miss Becky, the person. He felt awful for that.

Buddy knew that he was waiting. For what, he wasn't sure, but there was an itch inside. Maybe that's what Becky had felt.

Buddy thought that once he'd opened the Quicky Mart, once the pump was installed, he'd feel more at ease. That his soft ache would end.

But now, here he was, low on funds, with a burned out sign. Living in the same apartment that he'd first rented with his runaway wife, boxes of her left-behind books stacked in his carport.

He felt stupid even thinking about it, but years ago, when he saw the movie, Ghost, it had affected him. It was silly, it was Hollywood magic, but it had made him yearn for a love like that. He knew he didn't have anything like that with Becky. But Buddy was nothing if not practical. His life was solid, that's what counted. That was real.

Yet somehow, the movie stayed with him. To love someone that powerfully. Not out of duty, or responsibility, but from your heart. Because you had no other choice. How would that feel?

He stashed what little cash there was in the safe, wiped down the counter and shut off the radio. He still couldn't get that Lita Ford song out of his head.

What he needed, he told himself, was a good night's sleep and some straight thinking. He had to stop it with the romance. Buddy laughed to himself. Ghost. Good thing he hadn't told anyone.

He was just shutting off the lights when he saw her. Standing next to the gas pump. A couple of suitcases in the backseat of her Camry.

Buddy couldn't take his eyes off of her.

And then it happened. She turned her gaze toward Buddy, standing all alone in his dimly lit store.

He could feel his pulse race. And, more than that, his lonely, hopeful heart felt full for the very first time in his life.

They stood there, these two strangers, their eyes locked on one another, the heat of the desert night surrounding them.

Because they had no other choice.

Rainey (Cathedral City Part 3)

She swam her last lap then stepped out of the pool. The night was warm with a soft, perfect breeze. 

This was her favorite time to swim. She loved standing outside, slightly out of breath, watching the city lights blink on until Los Angeles became a bright, ridiculous carpet.

She stood there for what seemed like forever, wondering, like she’d be doing a lot lately, when things had started to go so bad. 

Was it the decision to move to Hollywood fourteen years ago? Fourteen? God, she felt old. That’s what happens in this town when you have more looks than talent. You get old really fast.

So, she'd married Charles. It seemed like the perfect solution. He was successful, rich, and kind of handsome in the right light. He got invited to all the A-list parties and she loved getting dressed up. 

When they were still dating he’d have one of his assistants deliver a box from Barneys or Neiman’s and inside would be the perfect dress. Sometimes he’d include shoes. How did he know her sizes so precisely, she’d wondered. How could he have guessed her favorite colors or fabrics? Back then, she figured it was due to his devotion, his attention to her every word. 

Fourteen years later she knew the truth. He’d called her agent. Rather, he had one of his assistants call her agent. They’d been only too happy to tell all of her secrets. A client of their’s dating a producer of his caliber? That was the brass ring!

They were married six months later. He was getting to that age. He needed to get married. A man in his fifties can look a little shifty with nothing but a string of twenty-something’s on his arm. The one thing Charles could not afford was to look vulgar.

She was the right girl at the right time.

She suddenly realized she couldn't think of the last time she'd seen him. He’d been in France and Italy on “business” and from there…she honestly couldn’t remember. 

At some point they’d both dropped the pretense of trying. They slept in separate rooms, often separate homes, and, like now, separate countries. 

She had truly believed all this would be enough. She’d grown up in a trailer. Literally. A trailer park. 

Her mother was a ruined beauty who’s hope for anything but her daughter’s future had run out years before. But they had both seen stars, and the moment it was legal, Lorraine (now, Rainey) headed to L.A. 

But the town was much tougher than Rainey had expected. She was one of thousands of pretty girls. Thousands. She didn’t know how to make herself stand out. It was exhausting and terrifying. She got anxious. She began to lose herself. She no longer had opinions, or likes, or dislikes, for fear of saying the wrong thing. Offending someone important. 

She was slow to get up in the morning, almost dreading what the day would bring. She’d spend hours applying makeup and trying on outfits, just to sit in a room with girls who looked exactly like her. 

One by one they’d be called into another room to read a few lines for a role that required “a very pretty girl”. And one by one they’d return, in two minutes or less. 

Then each one of these “very pretty girls” would get in their dusty cars, hoping they had enough gas in the tank for the long drive home. Hoping they’d get the part, hoping they’d been noticed, hoping they’d make it in this hot, mean town. 

Rainey had met Charles on one of those auditions. He’d walked her out, in front of all the other actresses, and she was sure the part was hers. It wasn’t, but she did get a lovely dinner. 

She’d never been to the restaurant before, never even heard of it. He picked her up and she had waited outside of her building, not wanting him to see her bleak, tiny apartment. 

Over dinner he’d complimented her and she’d trusted every word. 

Standing by the pool, on this warm, breezy night, she felt astonished. She had fallen for it all. He was the best in the business. Looking you in the eye and making you believe things you knew couldn’t possibly be true. He was Hollywood’s very best trick.

And still, she’d stayed. She had no one to blame but herself. For years now his assistants had been delivering beautifully wrapped boxes, filled with perfectly chosen gowns, to a sea of other women. And she’d stayed. And stayed. And stayed. 

It took her having it all to realize she had nothing. She felt almost embarrassed of herself. Allowing her life to come to this. 

She turned away from the city lights and dove back into the pool, swimming her final lap. 

Within an hour she was on the freeway. Just a suitcase, her credit card, and a new set of dreams. This time around she may not have a pool, but she’d have an opinion. 

She smiled, realizing Charles wouldn’t notice she was gone for quite some time. Weeks maybe. 

She turned on the radio, trying to find something to match her mood. She found, Lita Ford’s, “Kiss Me Deadly”. The song was halfway through, but Rainey sang along, her voice sounding stronger than it had in years. 

She decided she’d try her luck in the very next town. 

And there it was up ahead.

Cathedral City. 18 miles.