- Home
- J. P. Grider
Calling California
Calling California Read online
Calling California
J.P. Grider
Fated Hearts Publishing
Also by J.P. Grider
Adult Contemporary:
Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star)
Maybe This Life
Young Adult Paranormal:
A Touch of Honor
A Man of Honor
A Heart of Honor
The Honor Trilogy (Books 1, 2, &3)
Calling California
Published by
Fated Hearts Publishing
Edited by Sue Toth
Cover Art by Niina Cord 2014
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any person, place, thing, or event is purely coincidental and a result of the author’s imagination. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2014 by J.P. Grider
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
To my friend Emely,
whose daily stories inspired this series.
Table of Contents
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
Acknowledgments
1
Christmas Eve, 2001
Cali
The house is huge. I mean, it's like the size of my school huge. And it's fancy too. Some guy in a long black coat helps Mommy and me out of the car, and then he drives away in it.
"Mommy, you're giving him our car?" I'm scared. How will we get home?
"No, we're not giving him our car, Calista. It's called a valet. He is going to park our car. He will bring it back when we leave." Mommy fixes my hair and straightens the collar on my dress. Then she buttons up my coat the right way. I guess I didn't match up my buttons very well.
"Why does someone else have to park our car?" At our house, Mommy and Daddy park our cars.
"That's just how rich people do things. Now stop with all the questions, I'm nervous enough as it is."
"But... rich means a lot of money, right, Mommy?"
"Right, Calista." She smoothes down my hair once more and takes my hand. "Come on now. I need to be inside before the guests arrive."
"How come Daddy can't spend Christmas Eve with us?"
"Because, Calista, he can't." Mommy rings the doorbell and loud musical bells start chiming. "Daddy had to work this year. That's why you had to come with me tonight."
"I think you and Daddy shouldn't be working on Christmas Eve. I like when we are all home."
A big man in a black suit opens the door. "Welcome, Eleanor."
"Grant." Mommy walks in and bends down to whisper in my ear. "Calista, we will talk about it later, okay?"
She doesn’t wait for me to answer, she just takes my hand and walks me to the huge kitchen, which is bigger than my house. "Eleanor," some fancy lady greets my mama. "Instructions are taped to the refrigerator. Our friends will be here in an hour. Please see that everything is ready." The fancy lady glares at me and then looks at my mom. "No babysitter?"
"No, Mrs. Donavon. My husband had to work tonight, I'm sorry." Mommy's voice sounds weak, not loud like she usually is.
"Fine. But be sure she doesn't get in the way."
"She won't, ma'am."
The fancy lady leaves the room and it is just me and my mom in the huge kitchen. "Mommy, why do we have to be here? I don't like that lady. She’s looking at me funny."
Mommy doesn't look at me. She's reading the list from the refrigerator. "Calista. Shh. Don't let her hear you." Mommy turns and looks down at me. "I'm sorry, Calista, I really am, but Mr. Donavon is my boss, and he really needs me to work for him tonight. Besides, he pays me extra when I waitress at his house parties. We really could use the extra money."
"Why? Don't you make enough at the restaurant?"
"No, honey, not nearly enough. But tonight I will. So just be good and quiet, okay? Then we'll be home before Santa comes, okay?"
"If Santa comes. Last year he didn't, remember?"
Mommy looks sad. "He'll come this year. I promise. Santa's having a better year this year, don't worry about that."
While Mommy serves all the fancy-schmancy people at the party, I sit in a chair at the table in the corner of the kitchen playing Super Mario Land on my Gameboy. Every once in a while Mommy comes back to get more food to put on her tray, but then she leaves to go serve those fancy people.
When the door opens again, I thinks it's Mommy, but it's not. Two boys, dressed in clothes that I never saw the boys at my school wear, come in laughing. They both take some cookies off a tray and stick them in their mouths. The older boy sees me and says, "Hey," but then he grabs two more cookies and leaves the room.
The younger boy, who is still older than me, grabs another cookie off the tray and walks over to me. Handing me the cookie, he says, "Cool."
I'm still holding the cookie in my hand, afraid to talk to the boy.
"That is one cool Gameboy." He's looking at my Gameboy like I was looking at this house when we first got here. "Can I see it?"
My stomach starts to feel funny, but I slowly move my Gameboy towards him. When his hand touches my game, I am still holding it. Even though I didn't want to, I let go of it and let him hold it.
"Wow. Is this an original? Like from 1989?" He is turning it around in his hand, inspecting all of it.
I shrug.
"Where'd you get it?" he asks me.
My mouth opens, but I don't want to speak.
"Wait right here." He stands up and then walks out, leaving my Gameboy on the table.
Before I have a chance to get back to Super Mario Land, the boy comes back with a huge smile on his face. "This is my Gameboy.” He places one of those brand-new Gameboy Advance games in front of me.
"Wow." My hand shakes as I lay my fingers on the dark purple game.
"Go 'head. Play it. The new Super Mario Advance is in it."
I turn to him. "You have the new Mario game?" I click the game on before he answers.
"Yup. You can have it if you want. The Gameboy and the game."
I look at him in awe. "Really? But why?"
"Cause I want to trade it for yours?" He tilts his head to the side. "If you want to."
"Why would
you want to trade me this new game," I hold it up to his face, "for my crappy old one?"
He laughs. "You think it's crappy?"
"Yeah. My mom bought it at the poor people's store. It's all she could afford."
He frowns. "Really? You didn't ask for a classic Gameboy?"
Now I laugh. "No. I asked for this kind." I hold up his Gameboy again. "But my mother said there was no way she could ever afford that. That's when she took me to the cons... consy... the poor people's store."
"Oh. A consignment store?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"My mother brings a lot of our stuff to those stores."
"Oh." My stomach hurts again.
The boy gives me a sideways smile. "Take it. It's yours. Even if you don't want to trade. I'll just tell my mom I lost it and she'll buy me another one."
"Really? She could do that?"
"Yeah. My dad makes a lot of money. Don't worry about it." He gets up and leaves the room.
Now I'm sitting with two Gameboys in front of me, and I'm thinking, wow. He just gave me his new Gameboy and I didn't even have to trade the one my mom bought me. I don't think I have ever met another kid who would do that. No one at my school anyway. No one at my school will even share their stuff, forget about giving it away.
"Here, I got you the rest of my games." The boy comes back in holding a bunch of Gameboy Advance games, and he tosses them on the table. "You can have these too."
I look at all of them spread out in front of me. Kirby's Dream Land. Yoshi's Island. Scooby-Doo. Mario Kart. "Oh my God, you're giving me all these? Why?"
He sits back down. "I told you. My mom can buy me another one, and you really want this."
I look at the purple Gameboy and then at my ugly old tan one that my mother bought me. I know my mom worked hard to buy me this, but maybe she wouldn't mind if I trade it for a better one. The boy really likes it and he's giving me all of these games. Slowly I push my tan Gameboy toward him. "Here. You can have mine. But I only have the one game."
"Really?" His eyes grow huge. It looks like little night lights went on behind his eyes. "Oh wow. Really? Your mom won't get mad?"
I shrug. "I don't think so, since you gave me yours. But why do you want this ugly old one?"
"Because it's an original. It's classic. I like old things."
This boy makes me laugh. "Everything I own is an old thing. Something someone else used before me."
"Really?" He smushes up his face. "That's... that's... ya want another cookie?"
He probably wanted to say, "That's sad," because that's what I always think, but this boy is too nice to say that. "Yeah, I want another cookie."
With a huge grin, he gets up and gets us some more cookies and pours us two glasses of milk. By the time we finish them, my mom tells me it is time to leave.
I never did get the boy’s name, but I will always remember him as the nicest boy in the world.
2
The Present - August, 2013
Cali
"Cali, I am so glad you're finally here," Tabitha says, referring to the two years off I had to take after high school to save up for college. "We are going to have so much fun."
We find room 216 where Oral Communications is being held. Tabitha leads us to a row in the middle of the lecture hall. Placing my backpack down on the desk, I say, "How is it going to be any different, Tab? It's not like we live on campus or at a sorority house. We still live with our parents." I laugh, because she's being silly. For me, college is going to be the same as high school. I'm going to go to school, go to work, do my homework and repeat it all the next day. Only this time, I'll be adding the task of taking care of my father.
"Yeah, but we have two classes together, and we can eat in the cafeteria and go to some parties together. Last year you wouldn't come with me because you felt out of place. Now you don't have to."
"We'll see." While fumbling through my bag for a notebook and pen, in my peripheral vision, something catches my eye. Or shall I say, someone catches my eye. He's gorgeous. From his nonchalant gait to the dark five o'clock shadow on his chin, not to mention the tall blonde who's hanging on his arm, he exudes unshakable self-assurance. His black Doc Martens, faded, ripped blue jeans, and tight white t-shirt scream nerveless. My heart skips a beat or twenty as he walks by me and heads up to a seat at the back of the room, the blonde sitting in the seat right next to him.
"Someone likes what she sees already," Tabitha leans in and whispers. "He is hot, I'll give you that."
"Shut up, Tab." I feel myself turn warm just thinking about him. In his seat, he crosses one ankle over the other knee, and his casual expression makes him look like he couldn't give a crap about anyone but himself. But something about his pale grayish-blue eyes tells me otherwise - though I am only stealing glances at him from my seat in the middle of the classroom, so I can't tell for sure. But it doesn't really matter. He is just awesome to look at.
Through the rest of the period, though I try hard to pay attention to the assignments the professor lists, I can't keep myself from turning to look at him. Unfortunately, when the period does finally end, he walks by me again, not even looking in my direction.
"Two weeks," Tabitha utters. "That's not bad. I like this professor."
"Two weeks for what?"
Tossing her head up, she laughs. "Seriously? Was your mind on that hot guy the whole entire period? Our first assignment isn't due for two weeks. I think that's pretty cool. Some professors give them, like, the next day."
"Ah. Yeah. Can we compare notes later? I think I may have missed some of the assignments."
She chuckles again. "Oh, you got it bad, and you don't even know his name."
"Shut up, Tab."
3
Later that afternoon
Griffin
"Oh, before I forget, Griff, your check is on my desk."
I look at the twenty-three dollar check my best friend Joey hands me, and I crack up. "Twenty-three dollars? Thanks, Joe. I'll be sure not to spend it all in one place."
"Fuck you, Griff. I'm not made of money like you are. That's all I can afford to pay you right now."
Still chuckling, I tell him, "Joe, I told you I didn't want to be paid anyway. I enjoy working on cars. I didn't mind helping you out when you were short-handed. Besides, you let me work in your garage for free. Really, I don't want you to pay me."
Joey comes out from under the hood of a 2010 Mustang. "I know, but you pulled me out of a bind. Just cash the fucking check, Griffin."
"Well, I'm kind of hungry, how 'bout I buy us a pizza with it?"
"Yeah, I can go for a sausage pie."
"'Kay. I think I still have an account at that bank by the pizza place. I'll cash it there."
"Why would you have an account at a bank a block away from Paterson, rich boy?"
"Back before my mom married Bucky, she and I used to live here. So fuck you."
Joey laughs. "I thought your mom had her own money."
"She did. She does." I shrug. "But we were living in the house that she grew up in. From what I hear, this area was pretty nice."
"Hey, it's still nice, asswipe."
"Uh, yeah, I didn't mean anything by that, I just..."
"I'm joking, Griff. Just go get the pie."
Oh my God, she's stunning. Her pale skin is flawless and the way it contrasts with her charcoal eyes and black curls is breathtaking. Why haven't I visited this bank before?
"Can I help you?" Her words float out like a lyric from a song.
"Sure." Her eyes are wide, as if she's seen a ghost, but they quickly turn up with her smile. "I just need to cash this." Handing the check through the space under the bullet-proof window, I wish I could reach her long slender fingers just to be able to touch her.
Her smile is wide, and if I'm not mistaken, she's blushing. My heart races just a tad while watching her punch keys on her computer. That never happens to me. My heart speeds up for no one.
Until now.
&n
bsp; "Um." She turns to me, her smile gone. Her expression is pained, as if someone just died. "I'm really sorry, but you have insufficient funds. There isn't enough money in your account to cash this check."
"Oh." I laugh, because it really is comical to not have enough money in my bank account to cover a twenty-three dollar check.
"I don't think you will make it in time to the bank that this check is drawn from, but I can lend you ten dollars to get you through until tomorrow." She reaches down underneath the bank counter and comes back with her purse. As she rummages through her purse, she says, "I can meet you in the lobby. I won't be able to give you the ten through the window, but if you just walk around..."
"No." I cut her off and hold up my hand. "Please. It's fine. I don't need the ten, but really? You would give a complete stranger your own money?" I find this not only endearing, but oddly hot.
"Well I know what it's like to not have any money, and I would hate to think someone else would have to experience that when I was able to help."
She's an angel. A hot, sexy, dark-eyed angel. "Thank you for the offer, but really, I'm good."
"Excuse me," an agitated man behind me calls, "but can we hurry it up. I'd like to get home in time for dinner."
The teller shrugs and says, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I tell her, putting on my sexiest grin.
Her bright smile returns, and because this girl somehow makes me flustered, I am at a loss for words.
"You done, son?" the rude man asks.
"Calm down," I tell him, and if the angel were out of hearing distance, I would have said some other choice words. But since I intend on coming back and making an impression on her, I think it best to bite my tongue.
4
Cali
"I'm telling you, Tabitha, he has got the sexiest voice I ever heard. It's deep...and...and smooth...and...and.and...velvety, but there's this tiny rasp to it. Oh my God. He...I had to force myself to talk to him, he had me so nervous. Oh¸ but his smile..."