Old Palmetto Drive, page 5
“Why did my Dad always imply Mom grew up like poor white trash? I don’t understand any of this.”
“Well, I don’t know your dad all that well. He wasn’t around much,” Darcy answers my question with a non-answer.
“Bullshit!” I yell.
“Excuse me?” She gasps and leans back in her chair.
“You and mom spent like the last five years together,” I remind her. God, why is Darcy being so dense.
“Um, yeah, Rian. Me and your MOM. All the times I’d be at your house, where was your Dad?” She narrows her gaze on me. I think about it. I guess Dad did spend most of his time in his stupid office. Or on the phone. Or gone. Now that I think about it, did Dad ever talk to Darcy?
“Oh yeah, I guess he wasn’t around much,” I finally admit.
She nods with agreement and angles her body forward. Then in a husky voice, she says, “If you want my opinion, I think your Dad had a certain image he liked your Mom to portray.” She looks around nervously. “I think he was scared of this place. Like people might accuse him of things, you know, being married to a woman who was raised on a southern farm. Even one in the Everglades that made fishing lures.”
The skin between my eyebrows wrinkles together.
“Now, this is only my opinion, but I think your mom went along with it because she loved your dad. She tried for a long time to be the perfect, New York woman.”
I use my thumb to smooth out the frown between my brows, then massage my temples trying to make sense of it. “But, why would dad do that? Why make mom be someone she really wasn’t?”
“Rian, honey, there’s a lot of stuff you don’t need to worry about. Adult relationships are sticky and complicated. All you need to worry about is getting along with your cousins and trying to have some fun this summer.” She sounds just like Mom. “Look, your mom and I have a lot to do the next few days and then I’ve got to fly back to New York for a week. Would you please, for me, just try to be nice?”
“Whatever, Darcy,” I say and fold my arms over my chest. “And teenage relationships these days are a lot messier than you might think. But, I’d never make someone I cared about disown their family and be someone they’re not.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Rian.” Darcy’s compliment surprises me. “Now, get your New York butt outside and enjoy the sunshine!”
10
Mud, Mud, Everywhere
The heat in the Everglades is unbearable. I’m slick with sweat the second I step out of the front door and onto the porch. The first thing I notice, besides the heat, is how loud it is. Not like New York loud. Not taxis honking and the hum of buildings and the sounds of people shouting loud. But, the ever present buzzing of insects and the sound of a chainsaw in the distance. A shovel punching into dirt in the garden. The water in the fountain. Someone whistling. A door slams. And there is a loud thumping from around the side of the house. I can't figure out what it could be. So, I walk that way to investigate.
When I come around the corner, past a pink and orange flowering shrub, I see the man from yesterday. Big Jackie. He’s the one making the noise. Him and some girl are using huge, metal rakes and beating a rug hanging on a line. They are arguing fiercely about something, but I can’t hear what they are saying over all the slamming and whomping sounds. The girl drops her rake and marches up to Big Jackie. She is waving her arms and pointing her finger, and for a moment, I think she’s going to push him.
He put his rake down and his head too.
I grabbed my sketch pad before coming outside. There’s a spot near a tree with some shade and a little cement bench. I’m not sure it’s meant for people. It looks like garden art. But, I am not sitting down on the dirt in my Dolce&Gabbana. By the time I reach the bench, they’ve stopped arguing, but I can tell whatever it was about is eating her alive.
She’s tense.
I watch as they remove the rug and put a different one up over the line and start working on it. I sketch her. She has lean shoulders. She’s wearing super short jean shorts with frayed edges that hug her in the right spots. I look down and make a stroke with my pencil, then back up at her. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
Finally, when the sweat drips from my forehead onto my paper, I decide maybe I will find Travis and Sam on the boat. I bet it’s cooler on the water. So, I get up and walk toward Big Jackie and the mystery girl and wave to catch their attention. Big Jackie stops and wipes the sweat from his brow.
“Hey there, Miss Rian. You ever seen rugs cleaned this way in the Big Apple?” He laughs as he says it like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said to someone. I smile, only because his laughter makes his whole body shake.
“No, I guess I’ve never seen that before.” I shrug. “I think they use vacuum cleaners in New York.”
Big Jackie and the mystery girl both laugh–which is kind of annoying. Like, are they laughing at me?
“Rian, this is Justine. She’s my little sister. Justine, this here is Rian,” Big Jackie introduces.
Justine is half of Big Jackie’s size. I don’t see any resemblance. Big Jackie is bald and like ten feet tall and in his thirties. He’s red and sunburned and sweaty from working outside all the time. And he’s got a huge, grizzly beard that’s red now, but when he gets old and gray I’m sure he will look just like Santa Claus. But Justine, she looks my age. She’s got sunkissed hair, the kind you pay five-hundred dollars for, but hers is probably natural. Her skin, it’s not all red and splotchy like her big brother’s. She must use sunscreen. Her lips are perfectly moisturized and a little pouty, my heart skips a beat awkwardly.
“Hi, Justine.”
“Hey, Rian. I like your dress,” she says. There’s a glimmer in her eye as she looks me up and down, doing her own assessment.
“Thanks, it’s from the latest Dolce collection,” I reply, hoping to impress her.
“I got one kinda like it from the Bealls Outlet store. You ever been? They got all kinds of fancy stuff from department stores that go outta business,” she explains.
Outlet store? Oh god. But all I say is, “Oh yeah?”
“There’s one about thirty miles away. If you like bargain shopping,” Justine adds, “I could take you sometime.”
If I laugh she will think I’m a spoiled, rich bitch. But seriously, bargain shopping? I might think she’s cute, but no amount of flirting could take away from how awkward it would be. Her holding up a cheap dress and telling me I’d look good in it? I’d buy it to be nice and then burn it later. When she asked why I’d have to admit I don’t wear mixed polyester blends from China. Then it would be like this big argument and she’d tell me what an asshole I am and I’d tell her how stupid her pretty face is. I know me, I know I can’t be fake.
“Shopping, yeah maybe,” I whisper. Better to say as little as possible. I’m supposed to be trying to fit in. It’s better if I just walk away. “Nice to meet you.” I turn and head back toward the house.
“Hold up, little missy!” Big Jackie comes after me. Justine isn’t far behind.
“I’m hot,” I say and don’t stop walking.
“Well, hold up now. You want me to take you out to the boys? It’s cooler on the water.” Big Jackie wipes more sweat off his face. The sun is beating down so hard I’m going to faint.
“I don’t know.” I hesitate. But the thought of being near water sounds glorious. “Um, do you know what a side-by-side is?” I ask, remembering Mrs. Day said to ask for a ride on one. Then to my surprise, Justine starts laughing. She looks at her brother and back at me and doubles over. Tears pour from her eyes like I’m some clown with a big, red nose. Like really? Who the hell does this girl think she is laughing at me like that.
“Justine, don’t be so rude,” Big Jackie exclaims.
“Did I say something funny?” I put my hands on my hips.
Big Jackie’s eyes dart around nervously and he speaks for his sister. The bitch. “No, little missy, just–well, a side-by-side is an ATV. See that thing over there? Like a golf cart with big wheels for going in the mud and driving around the property. Everyone’s got one round here.” He points toward a vehicle parked next to one of the outbuildings. Justine has finally stopped laughing.
“What’s a side-by-side? Oh, Rian, that’s good. I haven’t laughed like that in a while, thank you, seriously–I needed that.” Justine walks away and toward one of the small houses that dots the property.
Steam comes from my ears. “Take me to Sam and Travis,” I say through gritted teeth and make my way to the hillbilly vehicle. Big Jackie follows after me.
“You sure you want to wear that fancy dress out to find your cousins? It might get muddy. I can take you back to the house to change,” he offers.
“Muddy?” I ask.
He nods and drives us slowly over to the front of the Big House. “Go on now, put on something you can get dirty.” I get out and walk up to the door. I’ve still got my sketchbook in my hands. But, I know me, if I go inside and feel that cold air conditioning, I won’t come out again. So, I put my sketchbook down on the porch and climb back in next to Big Jackie.
“It’s fine. Just go.”
“Uh, you sure?” he questions. But, all I want now is to get out of here and find my cousins. I’m still fuming over Justine laughing at me.
“I said it’s fine. GO!” I yell.
“Buckle up,” Big Jackie grunts and steps on the gas as soon as I’m strapped in.
I expect a golf cart ride. I’ve been on them before, not too bad, kind of fun actually. But what I get is a forty-mile an hour, wind-in-my-face, bugs slapping me, eyelids flapping, screaming bloody murder ride.
“JACKIE!” I scream and squeal.
But, he laughs and does a figure-eight out in the middle of a swampy field, mud and water flying up around us in a huge sheet. He manages to whip the side-by-side over and the mud sheet sloshes inches from me. He keeps pushing further out into the fields and swamps before stopping at the edge of a dock that heads out into a waterway. Giant oak and palm trees are everywhere along the water, and tall grasses. I’m wet and muddy. My dress is ruined. But, that ride made me feel alive. My heart pounds.
“Sorry, I guess I got carried away,” Big Jackie says when he realizes how filthy I am.
“I should have changed. It’s my own fault.” I unbuckle and jump out.
“Justine can wash your dress,” he offers.
But, I already know it’s ruined. I just shake my head.
“Where’s Sam and Travis?” I ask and walk down the wooden plank dock. I look left and right and don’t see a boat anywhere. I sit down on the edge since my dress is trash already, it doesn’t really matter now. I lean over and get some water and splash my arms to get the mud off. I let my toes dangle. The water is cool and feels like heaven.
“Be careful. That water’s filled with gators.” Big Jackie comes up behind me.
I scream and pull back. I look at him horrified. Gators? And I had my hands and feet in that water! Before I can get pissed off, Big Jackie puts his hands up to his mouth and starts making some god awful sound.
“SKEESKOOO!” It’s like a cross between a scream and a bird call. He does it three times before out in the distance we hear a similar sound in return.
“The boys. You just wait here for ‘em.”
“Okay well, thanks for bringing me out here,” I say and hold my hand up to block the sun from my eyes.
The swamp water sparkles and reflects the light back at me. This entire place is so bright. I wish I had my Versace sunglasses. And bug spray. I slap a mosquito sucking my arm, a spot where I washed the mud off. My other arm is totally fine. Maybe I should have left the mud. “Do you have bug spray?” I ask Big Jackie, but he’s already walking away.
Gnats fly around my face and I swat at them. I lean over the dock and stare into the water–my reflection looking at me with a smirk. I wonder how many gators are actually in the water and if they really are brave enough to swim up and bite a person with their toes in. After a few minutes I stand and put my hands on my hips and look out through the tall, swamp grasses, scanning for any signs of my cousins. That’s when my eye catches the edge of a silver boat coming around the corner. Sam waves and has a grin from ear to ear. Travis is driving and even from here I can see he has a scowl on his face.
“RIAN!” Sam shouts. “Whoa girl, looks like you been muddin.” He laughs when the boat gets up to the dock and he sees the state of my dress.
“Yeah, Mrs. Day told me to have Big Jackie bring me here in the side-by-side. I didn’t know what that meant until it was too late.” Explaining the mud.
“There’s not a Chanel for hundreds of miles. You gonna survive, cous?” Travis asks. I take Sam’s outstretched hand and get into the boat.
“That’s not gonna work on me Travis. Sam was wearing Lacoste yesterday. You both wear Apple watches. And from what I hear, you’re loaded. I might be from New York, so I don’t know about all this country stuff, but I’m not stupid. Now, let’s get out on the water. I’m hot.” I plunk down on the seat of the boat. There’s a pair of rainbow coated sunglasses in the cupholder and I put them on. “Do you have any music on this boat? Maybe a bottle of water too?” I snip. “Oh and this is Dolce&Gabbana not Chanel. Get it right next time you want to insult me.”
“Ha, ha, Rian!” Sam laughs and hands me a bottle of water out of the cooler. “Bro, she nailed you. Chanel? Really?”
“Shut up dick.” Travis pushes down on the accelerator and we careen out into the swamp. He zig-zags between big clumps of grass and reeds, like he could do this with his eyes closed. I’m holding on for dear life trying not to scream.
Finally we get to whatever spot in the swamp Travis thinks is good for fishing. He stops the boat, turns on the radio, and whistles along with the music. He pulls out his fishing pole and goes to work with the lure. I see the care he’s taking. I am actually interested in it. That must be one of the lures that has made him and Sam the wealthiest teens in the Everglades. I don’t know anything about fishing lures, but I can tell it’s special. The shape and colors make it look like a real fish. Travis glances at me and I blush and turn away.
Sam’s busy casting and setting his pole up in some kind of metal thing that holds it for him. He gets out another fishing pole and hands it to me. “Rian, y'all ever go fishing up in New York?” he asks in his sweet southern drawl.
“Not really. Not like this.” I remember that time Mom took me to Central Park to go fishing when I was eleven. She entered me in a Youth Fishing Derby. But it was so gross. I cried when they made me put a worm on the hook and Mom took me home before it was over. “Mom took me to Central Park and we tried to go fishing once.” I tell a half-truth so I don’t seem completely foreign to them.
“That’s awesome. Fishing in Central Park, now that sounds like something I could get used to doing in the city.” Sam actually sounds impressed.
Travis just makes some grunt sound.
“What?” I ask.
“Figures,” Travis says.
“What figures, Travis?” I fold my arms.
Sam gets quiet and acts like putting bait on the end of my pole is the most interesting thing in the world. I should be paying attention to what Sam is doing, so I can learn how, but I’m too busy glaring at Travis from behind the rainbow glazed plastic sunglasses.
“Nothing,” he mumbles and casts his line in a perfect swoop. The shiny green and gold lure plops into the water. There is no denying he’s been doing this his entire life. It looks effortless and relaxing, even when I see how tense his neck and shoulders are.
“Humphhhhh,” I make a noise and turn back toward Sam.
Two can play at this game.
“Saaaaaam,” I whine in my cute girl voice. “Can you please help me? How do I make the end go out into the water?” I hold out the pole to him. If I can’t get Travis to just admit whatever shit is on his mind, I’ll turn Sam into my new BFF and drive Travis mad until he breaks. Boys are so easy. This is a game the NYP’s play back home.
“Okay come here. See this part, this is the reel. It holds the finishing line. Right here, this metal part, when you push it down you have to hold your finger like this,” he says as he moves my hand on the line and flips open the metal thingy. I’m not sure I understand, but I just do what he says and he seems to approve and keeps going.
“Like this?” I say oh-so-sweetly.
“Great! You’re a natural!” he laughs. I hear Travis make another grunt.
“Now what? I throw it into the water and catch a fish? Like a salmon?” I ask.
Before I have time to react, both Sam and Travis burst out laughing. My face feels instantly hot. I look back and forth between them. They hoot and cluck like a couple of chickens.
“Oh, Rian.” Sam quits laughing.
“Girl, you can’t be serious,” Travis says. His shoulders are finally relaxed. “We don’t have salmon out here in the swamp.”
“Well how the hell am I supposed to know what kind of fucking fish are in the Florida swamps? GOD!” I have completely lost my cool.
“Chill. It was funny. Salmon are cold water fish. They live in the ocean and rivers up near Alaska. We catch Bluegill, Bass, and Catfish out here. All good for fryin up in a pan.” Travis smiles. It suits him, looking happy, talking about the types of fish in the swamp. Just like yesterday at the garage. He looked happy then, talking about cars and his dad. Until I ruined it. Maybe I shouldn’t have been such a bitch. I hate when Mom is right.
“Hey, sorry for yesterday, if I made you mad. Sometimes I have a bad attitude,” I admit to him. He shades his eyes from the sun and nods.
“I’m sorry too. I know it was a big move, and coming here probably ain't easy when you had a good life back in New York,” he says and I can tell he means it.
“Woah, Rian, you got company!” Sam shouts.
I look back and see that my fishing pole is bouncing around. I had set it down, I guess I didn’t know the line dropped in the water. But it’s tugging up and down, like something is on the end.
