"That's the worst Richard Gere I ever heard, and yes, you do, you can go home."
The word drove a spike into Cam's gut. Home. Did he even have a home anymore? He hadn't spoken to Rebecca in over a week, hadn't heard his little boy's cooing in just as long, not since that last phone call when Rebecca made it clear he wasn't welcome anymore. "She told me never to come back."
"Jesus, Cam, she's still your wife. Cobalt is still your kid. You have to go back and make things right."
"You have a kid named Cobalt?" The bartender was off the phone, leaning on the bar not far away.
"Yeah," replied Cam, "and you have a crappy ice machine and foamy beer. What of it?"
"The machine is on the fritz, the water don't run for some reason. I checked it this morning. I'll check the beer in a minute. If you want to have an attitude about it, you can leave. I'm not that hard up for your seventy-five cent tips."
"He's sorry," Joe said. "His wife kicked him out of his house."
"I can see why."
"It ain't my house." Cam downed the rest of the beer in one big gulp. "It belongs to Rebecca and Scott. I'm not even on the title."
"It's still a place to live," Joe said. "Because you know what? I love you, but you can't stay with me. I'm sorry."
"You love me?"
"Not like that. Not unless you buy me dinner first."
They both chuckled. The bartender seemed unamused by it all. He'd obviously spent too many mornings serving drunk surfers to ever crack a smile again.
The music died out and the place went silent once again. Outside, seagulls squawked as they dived for the water. There were so many gulls Cam figured something large and dead must be floating near the edge of the water. Could be a seal from the La Jolla rookery. Which might mean a shark was in the area. That was all they needed. It was bad enough the waves were dead, they didn't need Jaws out there as well.
Finally, he put a ten on the bar and turned to Joe. "Okay, let me get my stuff. I'll go back and try to talk to Becky. But if she don't let me move back in, and I die in an alley somewhere-"
"People don't die in alleys in San Diego."
"People also don't choose Sammy Hagar over David Lee Roth but stranger things have happened."
"If you die in an alley you can come back as a ghost and haunt me."
"That's quite a consolation prize. Thanks for nothing."
Together, Cam and Joe ambled out of the bar and grabbed their surfboards, which they'd left standing against the wall near the door. As they headed to the car, Cam could have sworn he heard the bartender say, "Cobalt?"
CHAPTER 2.
The baby had been crying way too long, and even though Rebecca loved her little boy in that selfless way only a mother can, she was about two seconds away from laying him in his crib and driving to Alaska for a moment of quiet. "Please, Cobe," she said, bouncing him in her arms as she went to the stove to see if his formula was ready, "just give me some kind of sign. Are you sick? Is it gas?"
As much as the crying was driving her mad, it was driving her even madder that she couldn't figure out why her baby was in discomfort. He hadn't cried like this since his last diaper rash, which was some three months ago. A call to the doctor resolved nothing, other than being told that crying was normal for babies, and if he wasn't hot, or spitting up, or having diarrhea, chances were he was just hungry. Either that, or sometimes the dry air can give him a headache. Keep him hydrated, the doctor had said.
Through the kitchen window, she saw Scott working on the flower garden in the front yard. How he found the strength to work half his week in the desert and then spend his one day off in more dirt planting flowers was beyond her. But then, perhaps it just gave him an excuse to get out of the house and not have to deal with his nephew's crying. Couldn't blame him for that, really.
She took the bottle from the pot on the stove, and, still holding Cobalt, dripped some on her arm. It felt right. "Here, Cobe, drink this."
Cobalt's eyes, blue as the ocean-and the source of his name-went wide as she plunged the bottle's rubber nipple into his mouth. Apparently hunger was not the source of his problem; he was still more intent on crying th an eating. "Shit." Rebecca put the bottle down on the counter and moved on to plan two, which involved impressions of Yosemite Sam.
"Listen here, ya ornery varmint, I'ma givin ya till five to shut up or I'ma start shootin'. One. Two."
Ding.
Why was Scott ringing the doorbell, she wondered. He wasn't, he was still visible through the window, his arms covered in dirt, his eyes now focused on the front door where someone was waiting. Which, considering it was Tuesday at noon and the regular world was at work, could only be one person. "Jesus. Not now."
She opened the door, found Cam on the doorstep.
She shut the door in his face.
"Whoa, Becky, wait." The door bounced off his foot, which he'd wedged in the jamb, and swung back open.
"Don't you come in here," she told him, bouncing Cobalt once more.
He looked back over his shoulder at Scott, judging that he was far enough away to speak openly. As if it mattered. She could see the spot on his neck where the hickey had been.
Not a hickey from her, which would be fine and amusing, but a hickey from some slut he'd met at work. Even now she could visualize him in the parking lot after locking up the bar. Could see some ugly bitch sucking on his neck. Their hands groping one another. It made the hairs on her arm stand up. If she ever found out who the whore was she'd kill her.
Seeing he was a safe distance from Scott, he turned back to her. "C'mon Becky, let's talk. Please?"
"I got nothing to say to you, Cam. Maybe your girlfriend will talk to you. Or fuck you. Or whatever else you do with her."
"She's not my girlfriend. It was a one-time thing. I don't even know her name."
"Oh, great, that makes it so much better! Goodbye."
"Wait!" Cam stepped into the house.
Through the door, Rebecca saw Scott start toward the house. She shook her head no and he got the message. He bent down and concentrated on his flower bulbs. She scowled at Cam. "I said not to come in."
"Sorry. Look, I just...I miss you. I miss Cobe. Can I hold him?"
As much as she was pissed at Cam for cheating on her, she couldn't deny him the right to hold his child. And right now, she could use a break from the baby's crying. It went against her better judgment, but she nodded and handed Cobalt over to him.
As soon as Cam held Cobalt to his chest the baby stopped crying. Great, she thought, way to mock me, God.
"Hey, Cobe, Daddy missed you, buddy." The baby smiled and gurgled, a picture-perfect moment from another time. Another time when adultery had been just a word in a Charlton Heston film during which she'd fallen asleep. Cam asked touched Cobalt's cheek. "He been crying? His face is all puffy."
"Non stop," she replied. "I don't know what's wrong."
"You give him a bottle?"
"No, I gave him thumb tacks and bleach and sat him on broken glass."
"Point taken. But hey, he ain't crying now."
That was a blessing, she thought. It might even be worth it to have Cam stay for a little bit until the baby fell asleep. Maybe Cam would fall asleep too and she could smother him with a pillow or something, get back at him for ruining her life.
Lucky for him she didn't watch enough CSI to pull it off. "Come sit so you don't drop him," she said.
Wisely, Cam decided not to rebut to the snide comment and carried the baby over to the living room couch. Baby blankets and rattles covered the cushions. On the television, Sesame Street was on, the volume turned low. Rebecca went into the kitchen, got the bottle and handed it to him, just in case Cobe would eat.
Sighing, she sat in the recliner next to Cam and felt her back ache.
"How have you been?" he asked her, lightly rocking Cobalt in his arms.
"Why do you care?"
"Because you're my wife and I love- "Don't say it, Cam. Don't you dare say that in front of your son. If you loved me, you would have come home and gotten in bed with me. Not some slut you met at the bar."
"I made a mistake, Becky. I know that now. I can't take it back but I can guarantee it don't happen again. I want to come back home to you and Cobe."
The way he spoke sounded sincere, but she couldn't trust him now. Not after what he'd done to her, how much he'd hurt and humiliated her.
"Joe kicked me out," he said, his eyes locked on the baby's.
Was he afraid to look at her, she wondered. Did he actually think she would feel sorry for him? Would he even be here if Joe had let him stay? She was so pissed she didn't even know what to say.
Cobalt stared back at his daddy with wonder, like he'd forgotten who Cam was. That was something she didn't want her baby to go through. It wasn't the baby's fault his daddy was a whore; he deserved to have his father around. She knew too well the pain that came with losing a father. And a mother.
The images of the accident flashed through her mind, sadness creeping up on her again. She looked around the house, taking in the mess from the baby and thought of how hard it would be to raise Cobalt in a small apartment in one of the cheap beach towns. The house provided so much for her and the baby. Still, she'd give up the house in a heartbeat if she could get her parents back.
"I'm sorry," she said, though it was more just something to say than an actual truth. "Maybe you could find a room somewhere."
"C'mon, Becky, this is killing me. I screwed up, I get it, just give me a chance. It was just one time. Don't you want to be a family again?"
Her answer was quick and firm. "No."
The door opened and Scott came in, his shirt dirty with soil, some grass sticking in his hair. He respectfully ignored the conversation in the living room and poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen tap. Cam didn't say anything, obviously not wanting Scott to overhear their conversation. He made cooing sounds to Cobalt. The baby's eyes were growing heavy and Rebecca was at least thankful for that.
Scott asked came back from the kitchen with a glass of cloudy water. "You mess with the faucet?"
"No," Rebecca replied.
"Coming out real slow and aerated."
Rebecca hated it when he used scientific words around her; it made her feel stupid. It was one thing for her brother to sound scholarly in front of his scientist friends, but in front of her, she wished he'd just speak in layman's terms.
"Too much oxygen," he said, seeing the annoyance in her face.
"I know." She actually did know; she had heard Scott say it before.
"Well, maybe the pipes got clogged or something. I'll check them in a few." As an afterthought, he nodded to Cameron, said, "Cam," and went back outside.
On the television, Bert and Ernie were arguing about something, and Rebecca couldn't help but notice the parallel. "Cobe's asleep. Time for you to go."
"So no deal. I can't come back."
"No."
"Then when?"
"When you take back what you did."
"How do I do that, invent a time machine?"
"You figure it out. Just leave Cobe on the couch, I'll put him in his crib in a minute."
Rising from the chair, she went to the front door and opened it, motioned for him to leave. Cam's face was long as he slowly got up from beside his sleeping baby boy and reluctantly left the place he'd called home just two weeks ago. "Where do I go?" he asked her.
He looked genuinely sad and lost, and it killed her that she could still feel so much love for him despite what he'd done. Part of her wanted to grab him, pull him inside and just turn back time to when they were happy. Tell him he could stay here, but the part of her that knew his words were lies made her want to tell him exactly where he could go.
He looked in her eyes. "I love-"
The door cut him off .
CHAPTER 3.
Since the wildfires two years ago, Scott had been planning on planting succulents around the house in the event of a repeat blaze. To be more exact, he'd been planning on helping his father plant them.
Then the accident happened last year.
Now, he could at least honor the old man's memory and do what he'd been meaning to do before the collision. More importantly, the house was half his now and he didn't want to see his childhood home go up in flames if he could help it.
Cam was still inside with his sister, and he was amazed she'd let him in for this long. The things she said she'd do to Cam if he ever came back were so evil the devil would be afraid of her. Hell hath no fury...
"Whatcha planting?"
Scott looked up and saw Cam standing over him; he hadn't heard him come out. "Some aloe, ice plant, some other things." He motioned toward the door with his head. "So, how'd it go?"
"She said I can't come back. I don't know what to do. I have nowhere to stay."
"That's a tough one." Scott stood up and brushed dirt off his clothes. "She doesn't let things go very easily. I stole one of her dolls when I was about fifteen-she was around ten-stole it for a science experiment and she still hasn't forgiven me. I melted its face off with toothpaste-"
"Toothpaste? How do you do that?"