Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood (16 page)

Grace gave her a knowing smile. “I think it’s more how you stand there, looking offended, so they think they’re committing a grave cultural faux pas.”

Palmer shrugged.
“You say ‘potato,’ ”
she sang, “
I say ‘exchange rate.’
Anyway, want to grab some breakfast with our entirely legit gains?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a family brunch thing.” Grace drew up outside Palmer’s house, a sprawling ranch-style property just a few streets over from Uncle Auggie’s. “Mom likes us all to get together once a week, it makes her feel like she’s actually involved in our lives.”

“Hey, you’re lucky.” Palmer passed over the wedge of bills, and jammed her trilby hat on at a jaunty angle. “My mom requires daily status updates and hourly check-ins. Or at least, her assistant does.” She climbed down from the van. “See you later for a movie? I’ll text.”

Back at the compound, Grace found Dakota helping to set the outdoor table for breakfast — swatting away Rosita’s protests as he ferried fruit bowls and clean silverware from the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” Grace remarked, stealing a strip of bacon from one of the serving plates. Yum.

Dakota murmured noncommittally, as Hallie breezed out from the guesthouse. “Where have you been?” Hallie exclaimed, collapsing into a seat. “Don’t tell me you’ve started jogging, or whatever it is Amber does to stay so skinny.”

“Jog? Ha!” Grace joined her at the table. “I was just hanging out with Palmer, this girl from school.”

“Way to go!” Dakota cheered. “Making friends, getting out there. Soon you’ll be the Queen Bee of Beverly Hills!”

Grace rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help feeling a small sense of achievement. Was it pathetic that making one lone friend counted as such an accomplishment, she wondered, or was that canceled out by the fact that someone, somewhere, didn’t think she was a complete loser?

Hallie reached for the toast. “Shouldn’t we wait for Auggie and Amber?” Grace asked.

“They’re at the salon,” Hallie replied, pouring juice. “Amber said something about having his back waxed?” She shuddered. “Can you imagine? I wouldn’t go near a guy’s back hair, not even if he was a
billionaire.
”

Grace coughed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Hallie told her, not at all apologetic. “We must not speak ill of the trophy wife!”

Grace gave her another stern look. She didn’t know why Hallie insisted on holding her grudge against Amber — to Grace, it was like holding a grudge against those adorable yappy dogs: sure, they could be annoying sometimes, but they were just so eager and cute, you would have to be heartless to cast them aside.

Grace had to admit, she’d been dubious at first. The age gap, and Amber’s penchant for pink Lycra workout gear had indicated a gold digger of the most basic kind, but after watching her and Uncle Auggie together for months, it was clear: the connection between them was genuine, however unconventional a love affair. Amber showered Auggie with affection, he adored her unconditionally right back, and together, they gossiped and laughed and mercilessly teased everyone all the day through.

It may not be Hallie’s idea of wedded bliss, but Grace figured there were worse ways to build a marriage. After all, her parents’ union had seemed rock solid, but still crumbled when her father decided he wanted a faster, glossier life, with overpriced sushi restaurants instead of her mom’s one-pot roasts; opera and gala balls instead of nights in, playing Monopoly. Amber and Auggie at least seemed to value the same things in life, even if those things were salacious gossip and expensive spa treatments.

“Darlings.” Their mom wafted down the path from her studio annex, draped in a long skirt and blousy orange tunic. She’d taken up yoga now, at a studio Amber swore Oprah used, and left books about Transcendental Meditation and the power of
The Secret
littered around the guesthouse. Grace hoped this wasn’t simply a stop on the one-way train to Scientology. Valerie kissed Grace and Hallie on the forehead, and offered Dakota a hug. “Look at you, up and over here so early.”

Dakota caught Hallie’s eye across the table, and the two of them shared the tiniest of smiles. Grace froze, bacon halfway to her mouth.

Had Dakota spent the night?

Their mom took a seat, oblivious. “Isn’t this nice? All of us together?”

They began to eat, but despite the lure of bacon, Grace was distracted, sneaking looks at Hallie. Was that a womanly glow, or just a new brand of bronzer? And were the looks between her and Dakota their usual swooning affection, or something more loaded with meaning? A morning-after kind of meaning.

“When did you get in last night?” Grace asked Hallie casually.

She shrugged. “Late.”

“How late? I didn’t hear you come in.”

Hallie gave her a look. “Then you must have drifted off early.”

“Mrs. Weston,” Dakota interrupted, turning to their mom.

She tutted. “Valerie, please!”

“Valerie.” Dakota fixed her with a charming smile. “I was wondering if it would be OK to go away with Hallie for a few days. We’re planning a road trip, maybe over to Vegas and up to San Francisco.”

Grace choked on her juice. “Vegas?”

Hallie ignored her, turning to their mom with a wheedling tone. “Please, Mom? I can visit everyone back home, maybe even video the whole trip like a documentary short!”

“But how will you afford it?” Grace asked. She knew walking the dogs kept Hallie in coffees and acting classes, but a road trip?”

“Don’t worry, Dakota’s got it all figured out.”

He nodded. “We’ll stay in cheap motels, and crash with friends. A guy I know works entertainment for a hotel in Vegas. He can hook us up with cheap rooms.”

There it was again. Vegas. City of casinos, tacky stage shows — and drive-through weddings. Grace felt an ominous shiver. Sure, Hallie was a fan of big romantic gestures, but she wouldn’t go that far, would she?

“I’m not sure.” Their mom frowned absently. “A big trip like that, it could be dangerous. What if you broke down, or got in an accident?”

“I’ll look after her, I promise.” Dakota gave Hallie an adoring smile.

“Still, I don’t know. . . .”

“Will you at least think about it?” Hallie pleaded. “We were hoping maybe in November. There’s tons of time.”

Valerie sighed, then gave a small nod. “I’ll think about it.”

Hallie leaped up, squealing. “Thanks, Mom!” She flew around the table and hugged their mother tightly.

“But no promises!” Valerie added as if anyone at the table didn’t already know she’d agree. Chances were, she’d get so wrapped up in her painting and positive visualizations that she wouldn’t even remember the question, let alone notice when Hallie was gone.

Grace finished her breakfast in silence, but the minute Hallie went inside to fetch her beach things, Grace trailed her up the stairs.

“Vegas?” she asked, loitering in the doorway of Hallie’s bedroom. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

“Like what?” Hallie smoothed her hair in front of the mirror, and slicked on some lip gloss.

“I don’t know . . .” Grace paused. “Elope?”

Hallie spun around. “What?”

Grace blushed. “I know, it sounds crazy, but crazy is kind of your thing! I’m serious!” she protested as Hallie burst out laughing. “I’ve seen the way you look at Dakota, and now that he’s spending the night . . .”

“Shh!” Hallie hissed, quickly moving to close the door. “What do you know about that?”

“Only that Dakota sleeps until ten, and lives forty minutes away.” Grace fixed Hallie with a meaningful stare. “I can do the math.”

Hallie exhaled. “It’s none of your business.”

“I know! I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Grace said. “Not after everything this year. . . .”

“This is different!” Hallie said fiercely. “Dakota’s not like Dad. He would never do anything to hurt me.” She took a deep breath. “I know you can’t understand,” Hallie told Grace, moving to the closet. “You’ve never been in love before, you can’t know what it’s like. But trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Grace wasn’t convinced. Love wasn’t any reason to lose your mind. “I like Dakota, you know I do.” She tried being reasonable. “But, you’ve only known him a few months. Don’t you think you should slow down?”

“For what?” Hallie threw her arms out expressively. “You keep saying that: ‘be careful,’ ‘slow down,’ ” she mimicked. “But why? I love him! What’s the point in pretending, and holding back, when I know we’re meant to be together? Always!”

Grace gulped. “But you just said —”

“I know what I said.” Hallie shrugged carelessly. “And you can relax, OK? We haven’t planned anything. But . . . it’s going to happen, sooner or later.” She sighed, starry-eyed. “This is for real. Forever.”

Hallie scooped up her bag. “We’re heading to the beach, and then meeting everyone at Ana Lucia’s. Don’t wait up!” She winked, then flew out of the room and down the stairs.

Grace watched from the window as Hallie raced over to where Dakota was waiting on the front lawn. She threw her arms around his neck, and he spun them in a circle before depositing her gently back on the ground. They kissed, long and passionate, before piling in his car and driving away, music blasting.

Was Hallie right? Grace turned the question over in her mind for the rest of the day, as she breezed through the rest of her homework; curled on a calico couch on the back patio. Was love like that: mindless, and headlong, like hurling yourself off a tall building? Grace had always thought she was sensible to be so careful when it came to her heart, but there Hallie was: careless to the core, but spinning in some boy’s arms all the same.

Perhaps Grace was the fool, for always holding back.

With Hallie swept up in Dakota and their grand plans for a road trip, Grace tried to focus on her own life for once: spending the next weeks hanging out with Palmer, and surrendering to Harry’s frequent requests for study sessions; even though, it seemed, studying was the last thing he wanted to do.

“So how are you finding it here?” Harry abandoned his textbooks for the fifth time that hour, sitting with his feet dangling in the pool in Uncle Auggie’s backyard. Grace was beginning to wonder if he had ADD or some such other affliction, for all the distractions he seemed to find. “It must be cool, being so ahead on everything.”

Grace shrugged. “It’s actually kind of boring,” she admitted, moving to sit beside him. She shucked off her sandals and plunged her feet in the water, sighing with pleasure as the cool water hit her skin. Indian summer had turned out to be standard for fall in L.A.: the weather so hot that week it made Grace long for the chilled mists back home. “I spend most of the time in class just waiting around.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are.” Harry splashed happily, knee-length skater shorts red against the terra-cotta tiles. “I think it would be great, just kicking back, not stressing about everything.”

“Sure, but it gets old.” Grace sighed. “And the teachers really don’t like having to give me extra work.”

“Just be glad you have the time,” Harry told her, splashing some more. “My parents are already bugging me about colleges. Yay Asian stereotypes!”

Grace laughed.

“It’s not funny. They’re making me join the baseball team, and do all kinds of extracurriculars. You should think about that too,” he added. “Clubs and activities and stuff. I mean, it sucks, but they’re kind of right.”

“I guess.” Grace was reluctant. “I’m not really a joiner.”

“Tell that to the admissions people,” Harry said darkly. “Yeah, sorry I only have a 4.0 GPA and no bullshit student activities, I was actually studying, instead of pretending to be a well-rounded citizen.”

Grace laughed again.

“No, I’m serious,” Harry continued. “It’s this big game that everyone keeps playing. You think anyone believes we’re volunteering because we care, and not just for the credit?”

“But does that make a difference to the people you’re helping?” Grace pointed out.

“A philosopher,” Harry teased. “Great.”

Theo was studying philosophy, Grace couldn’t help but think. Studying it at Stanford, only six hours and six minutes away on the freeway — traffic depending. She’d checked.

“Listen,” Harry said, his tone suddenly hesitant. “You, umm, want to get together later?”

“It’s OK, we should have the chapters finished soon.” Grace eased her feet out of the pool and went back to the table for her drink. She took a gulp, surveying the spread of textbooks and notes. “Don’t worry, McLaren won’t test us on the next section yet. We have tons of time.”

“No.” Harry coughed. “I meant, like, for a movie or something.”

“Oh.” Grace froze. She turned back to Harry, suddenly gripped with awkwardness. “I . . . I mean . . .”

“Or, we could just grab a coffee,” Harry added quickly, looking about as agonized as Grace felt. “Or even go to this party Josh is having. His parents are out and he’s having some people over to watch movies and hang out. . . . Whatever you want.”

What she wanted. . . . Grace gulped. What she wanted was six hours away. “I don’t think . . .” She trailed off. She’d never once been asked out by a boy before, not on an actual date, so how was she supposed to know how to turn him down? “I, umm . . .”