The Other Boy (5 page)

Maddy stared pleadingly at her father, but he didn’t seem to notice. She was stuck. Her dad waved over his shoulder as he left.

David turned and walked over to a pile of cleaning stuff in the corner. His footsteps mixed with the noise of the stream burbling outside in the quiet of the shed.

Maddy sighed as she sat down on an upturned bucket.

She bent over and inspected the pedicure she’d gotten the day before the party. Chipped. And her bucket chair was filthy. She jumped up and twisted around. Great.

She tried, fruitlessly, to brush off the giant dust mark on her skirt with her hands. She looked up and saw David staring at her. “What?” she snapped.

His eyes widened in surprise. “So … ,” he started,

“what’s the story with you?”

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What story?”

He sat down on another bucket and laced his fingers together. She heard his spine crack as he stretched his arms over his head. “What’s your deal, Madeline Sinclaire? I mean, why are you here?”

She walked away and looked out the window. “I have no idea, but I plan on leaving as soon as I possibly can.”

She didn’t plan on telling this guy the story of her party disaster. Why bother?

There was a pause. “Well, why don’t you leave now?

What’s stopping you? It’s pretty obvious that you’re not happy here.”

Maddy snorted audibly. “You’ve got that right. And leaving isn’t an option. I wouldn’t be here if my parents weren’t forcing me to stay.” She turned around and studied him. “So, this is a pretty exciting summer for you, huh?” she asked defensively. “Playing in the dirt for two months?”

He shrugged. “Actually, I had an awesome summer job lined up, but my dad asked me to come up and help him instead. I don’t mind—the food’s better up here.”

“Oh, yeah? What job was that, herding sheep?” She knew she was being incredibly bitchy, but David was starting to irritate her as much as the one stupid, tiny bathroom. He obviously loved it here, which was just about the weirdest thing ever. What normal seventeen-year-old actually
liked
being stuck on a farm all summer?

“I was going to clear trails at Sequoia National Park with my buddy,” he explained. “We worked there last year too. It was awesome.”

“Oh.” Maddy had nothing to say to that. She sat down again and took out her BlackBerry to see if anyone had called to say they missed her.

David shrugged his shoulders and strolled back to the corner with the supplies. He rummaged around for a second and cleared his throat.

“What?” Maddy looked up from her BlackBerry. No messages. Not a single e-mail.

“Well, nothing, really. It’s just that your dad forgot to give us any soap or bleach or anything. It’s just buckets and rags and mops.”

“Oh, okay.” Maddy was happy to hear it. Maybe they could just skip cleaning.

David tilted his head to the side as he spoke. “So …

we should get some,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child.

Damn it. Thanks a lot, Napa Boy.
She sighed through her nose. “Um, maybe there’s some at the house?”

David considered this. “I have a better idea,” he said, grabbing a broom and knocking some dust off one of the windows. “Why don’t you go down to the grocery store on 17? Mitchell’s. They’ll have everything we need.” He continued sweeping the window, watching her.

She leaped from her perch on the bucket and stuck her BlackBerry in her pocket. Saved from cleaning hell!

“Okay. No problem,” she replied. “What do we need? A bottle of bleach and some Mr. Clean? I’ll be back soon!”

She was out the door and halfway up the path before he could reply. The fresh mountain air against her face and the sun reflecting off the glossy grape leaves were as enticing as the thought of escaping the vineyard—even if it was just for an hour. Sweet freedom!

When she got to the house, Maddy rushed into the front hall. “Hello?” she called. Silence. Everyone was out working. Perfect. She searched through the seed catalogs, pieces of twine, and old junk mail covering the hall table for the keys to the Lexus. All she found was a single key attached to a dirty leather fob. It looked suspiciously like … Maddy ran to the front porch. The only vehicle in the driveway was, unfortunately, the red pickup truck.
Crap. Dad must have ridden with Fred.
She eyed the key and then stared at the truck. What the hell.

She
had
to get out of here.

Maddy clattered down the wooden porch steps and wrenched open the heavy driver’s-side door. She hesitated briefly at the sight of the ripped gray cloth seat with its exposed stuffing. Then she shrugged, climbed onto the running board, and hoisted herself into the driver’s seat, where she took a deep breath and brushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead. The interior reeked of dog, mildew, and something else—something familiar and disgusting. Maddy sniffed once and again, resisting the urge to put her hand over her nose. She craned around. There, stacked in the truck bed, was the source of the disgusting odor: four big bags of fertilizer, also known as horseshit. Delightful.

Maddy faced front again and cranked the key in the ignition. She jumped as the engine roared. It was like sitting on a dragon. She threw the car into drive after a brief struggle with the sticky old gearshift and carefully turned around in the driveway. She scraped against a few branches as she pulled out.
This isn’t too bad,
she thought.

She remembered to signal and turned onto the main road, firing the truck up to thirty-five. It shuddered a little but obeyed.
Woo-hoo. Now we’re rocking
. The road unfurled before her like a ribbon and the breeze whipped in at her. Maddy sighed happily and reached her free arm out the window to feel the sun.

She had just passed a makeshift billboard reading mitchell’s grocery for all your napa valley needs!

2 mi. in splashy red letters when her BlackBerry buzzed on the seat beside her. She picked it up and glanced at the screen. It was Brian. Finally! She pressed answer.

“I am
so
glad to hear your voice!” she squealed.

“Hey, babe,” he replied. Brian sounded like he was talking from the bottom of the ocean. Keeping one eye on the road, she looked back down at the screen. Only one bar.

“Brian, the connection is terrible. I’m in the car.”

“What? I can’t hear you. Go somewhere else.”

“I can’t! I’m
driving right now
!” Great. Four words into the conversation and she was already snapping at him.

“Okay! I can hear you now! Why are you yelling at me?”

She sighed. “Sorry. I’m in the worst mood.”

“Well, I was going to ask how it’s going up there, but I guess I don’t have to.”

“It completely sucks. I have to fix up a shed. I’m supposed to be cleaning it right now, but I escaped.”

“Do you want me to drive up and rescue you?”

“Yes! But you can’t. The party is still too fresh in my parents’ minds… .” She was getting a crick in her neck from attempting to cradle the BlackBerry on her shoulder.

“I’m going to L.A. tomorrow anyway. But you know, I was thinking about your birthday next month. They’ll have forgotten about the party by then. Why don’t you get them to let you come back here for the weekend?”

“Are you kidding? I’m surprised they don’t have me in chains. I think they’re worried I might run away or something if they let me off the property.”

“Tell them you’ll stay at Kirsten’s.”

“I don’t know,” Maddy said doubtfully. “Maybe. I have to soften them up a little first.” She was vaguely aware that she was passing the grocery store, a big white building with a red sign on her right, but she kept driving.

“I really miss you.” Brian’s voice was soft.

Maddy felt tears creeping into her eyes. “I miss you too. Call me every day!”

“Well, I told you I’m going to L.A. But I’ll call you when I can. Just forget about all that work for a while.

You need to take a break and chill. You sound awful.

Why don’t you go do something fun?”

“Maybe I will.” She sniffled. “Bye.” She dropped her phone onto the passenger seat and took a deep breath.

Brian was right. Buying bleach wasn’t going to improve her mood. Maddy drove past pastures of dry yellow grass with black-and-white cows lying in clumps on the hillsides, interspersed with little wooden cottages. The occasional irrigation pond sparkled blue under the cloudless sky. She snorted to herself. Who was she kidding? What was she going to do around here for fun? Go swimming with the cows?

The road widened as she approached a little town.

Maddy eyed a small group of buildings clustered next to the street, shaded by massive redwood trees. Maybe there would be a coffee shop or something—
wait!
She jammed on the brakes, pitching herself against the seat belt. Glancing in the rearview mirror for confirmation, she read an elegant yellow and black sign out loud:

“Oasis Day Spa.”

She glanced around quickly and reversed the truck right back to the entrance. She killed the engine and quickly glanced at herself in the mirror, which was held together mostly with duct tape. Mmm. Hair wild and dry, dark circles under her eyes, skin flaking and red. It was a crime for her to walk around looking like this.

Right,
she thought.
No one should have to see me in this condition.
It was only right that she stop and have a couple treatments done. She’d be doing the people of Napa a public service.

Maddy climbed down from the ridiculously high cab and did her best to brush off the assorted bits of straw, seat stuffing, and dog hair that were clinging to her dress.

She gave up and marched through the tinted glass front doors of the spa.
Ahh,
she thought as she entered.

Sanctuary
.

The lighting was soft and dim, and Maddy could hear soft harp music in the background. A fountain in the corner tinkled soothingly. The air smelled like lavender and clean towels. Maddy wanted to kiss the carpet, but instead she addressed the dark-haired young woman behind the desk. “Do you have any open appointments today?”

The girl smiled as if she knew everything Maddy had been going through. “You’re in luck. We just had an entire wedding party cancel for the afternoon. The bride had an allergic reaction to a kiwifruit and swelled up like a bullfrog,” she said cheerfully. She handed over the menu of treatments. “Can I recommend the Seaweed Stress Service? If you don’t mind my saying so, you kind of look like you could use it.”

Maddy touched the scaly skin on her cheeks and heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t mind at all. Actually, I couldn’t agree more. I’ll take the seaweed treatment and a hand and foot massage, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, Maddy found herself reclining on a cushioned table in another dimly lit room, listening to a nature sounds CD, while a girl named Tamara slathered her bare skin with a warm seaweed mixture the color and consistency of canned spinach.
Bliss
.
Utter
bliss
. Tamara pressed a cold cucumber pack over Maddy’s eyes and began kneading the bottoms of her feet. She quickly forgot all about bleach and cobwebs and annoyingly cute Napa boys as she drifted off into a delicious vision of her, Brian, a sailboat, and a freshly popped bottle of champagne… .

Maddy.” Mom’s voice came through the door of Maddy’s room.

“Wha—?” She drowsily opened her eyes. Her seaweed wrap and massage had so completely relaxed her that after leaving the spa, she’d come straight back to the house (without any Mr. Clean), sneaked upstairs, and promptly fallen asleep. There were now shadows gathering in the corners of the room. She had even managed to ignore the cricket, who was still cheeping away in his corner of the porch. The door opened.

“Mmm—what time is it? I fell asleep.”

Mom sat down on the side of the bed. “I can see that.”

She smoothed Maddy’s hair gently. Maddy closed her eyes again. Mom’s soft hand felt nice on her forehead.

“Don’t go back to sleep, honey. We forgot to tell you that we’re having guests for dinner tonight. We’re going to eat out on the lawn.”

“Okay. Who’s coming?” Maddy mumbled.

“Well, I bet you didn’t know we had a famous chef living right down the road, did you? His name is Anthony Shepard and he has a wonderful restaurant in Rutherford. And he asked if he could bring his daughter tonight. She just arrived in town for the summer also—

I think she’s about your age. And there will be us, and Fred and David, of course.”

Maddy opened her eyes. “Fred and David?”

“Well, naturally. This will give you a chance to get to know everyone better. Did you have a good time working with David today?”

Maddy turned and faced the wall. “It was okay.” If she was going to ask about her birthday, now probably wasn’t the time to tell Mom that she hated cleaning, hated being stuck in that shack, and had blown off her work for a spa day.

“Oh, good, honey. But you need to get ready, because we’re eating at nine, and it’s eight already. And I found a little something for you when I went to town for groceries this afternoon. Just look at this darling dress I found at a little boutique called Sun and Moon.” She rummaged around in a shopping bag by her feet and came out with a coral red silk strapless dress. Maddy couldn’t believe it—it was adorable. Usually Mom tried to get Maddy to wear “classic” outfits—which, translated, meant stiff collars and prim buttons.

“That’s so cute! Thanks, Mom.”

Her mom smiled. “I can’t believe you like it. This may be a first for us.” Maddy grinned back as Mom rose from the bed. “Oh, by the way, honey, when you take your shower, remember, the hot and cold faucets are reversed. You have to turn the cold all the way on first and then off,
then
turn the hot on, and then turn the cold back on. And don’t worry if the pipes scream a little.” She must have noticed the stricken look on her daughter’s face, because she gave Maddy a reassuring little pat on the knee before leaving.

After her shower in the tiny bathroom, during which Maddy just barely managed to remember the instruc-tions for hot and cold, she combed her hair in front of the vanity mirror in her room. She turned and gazed out the porch doors at the fading sunset. A crimson line burned just above the black silhouette of the mountains.