“You’re going to love him, though. Nick is a sweetheart,” she told me, smiling as she gazed down the highway. “He’s mature, responsible, and he’s probably dying to introduce you to all his pals. Every time I’ve been there and he’s around, he’s stayed in his room studying or reading a book. You might even have the same tastes.”
“Yeah, right. I’m sure he’s crazy about Jane Austen.” I rolled my eyes. “How old is he again?” I knew, of course; all my mother had talked about for months was him and Will. It was ironic that for some reason Nick had never managed to find a hole in his schedule to introduce himself to me. Moving in with a new family before I’d even met all the members of it just kind of summed up how crazy this all was.
“He’s a little older than you, but you’re more mature than most girls your age. You’ll get along great.”
Now she was kissing up to me. Mature. I still wasn’t sure whether that word defined me, and I doubted a guy who was nearly twenty-two would really feel like showing me the city or letting me meet his friends. If I even wanted to, which was a whole different question.
* * *
“We’re here,” my mother announced.
I looked at the tall palm trees and the streets between the monumental mansions. Each house took up at least half a block. Some were English or Victorian style; lots of others were modern with glass walls and huge yards. I started to get scared as we continued up the road and the houses got bigger and bigger.
At last we reached a set of immense gates, ten feet high, and when my mother pulled a small device out of the glove box and pushed the button, they started to open. She put the car back in gear, and we went down a hill surrounded by gardens and tall pines that smelled pleasantly of summer and sea.
“The house isn’t as high up as the others in the development, which means we have the best views of the beach,” she remarked with a big smile. I looked over at her, and it was as if I didn’t even know her. Did she not realize what was surrounding us? Could she not see that it was all just too much?
I didn’t have time to formulate the other questions I had aloud because we reached the house and the only thing I could think to say was “Oh my God!”
It was white with a sand-colored roof way up high. It had three stories at least, but it was hard to tell with all those balconies, windows, and everything else. In front of us was an impressive porch with the lights on—it was after seven—and that gave the place a fairy-tale aspect. The sun would go down soon, and the sky was filled with colors that marked a sharp contrast to the immaculate appearance of the place.
My mother turned off her motor after pulling around the fountain and parking in front of the steps that led to the main entrance. My first impression on getting out was that we’d come to the most luxurious hotel in all of California. But it wasn’t a hotel, it was a house—a home, supposedly, or at least that’s what my mother wanted me to believe.
William Leister appeared in the doorway just as I shut the door behind me. Behind him were three men in penguin suits.
My mother’s new husband wasn’t dressed as he had been on the few occasions when I’d agreed to be in the same room with him. Instead of a suit or a name-brand vest, he was wearing white shorts, a lightblue polo shirt, and sandals. His dark hair was tousled instead of combed back. I had to admit, I got what my mother saw in him—he was very handsome. He was tall, a good deal taller than my mother, and had maintained himself well. His face was harmonious, though the signs of age were evident on it—the crow’s feet, the lines across his forehead—and a few gray hairs among the black gave him an alluring, mature air.
My mother ran over to him like a schoolgirl and hugged him. I took my time, walking around to the trunk to get my things.
Gloved hands appeared from nowhere, and I leapt back.
“I will take your things, Miss,” one of the men in the penguin suits said.
“I can do it on my own, thanks,” I responded, feeling very uncomfortable.
The man looked at me as if I were out of my mind.
“Let Martin help you, Noah,” I heard William Leister say behind my back.
Grudgingly, I released my suitcase.
“I’m so happy to see you,” my mother’s husband continued, smiling affectionately. Next to him, my mother motioned for me to behave, smile, do something.
“I can’t say the same,” I responded, stretching out a hand for him to shake. I knew what I’d just done was terrible manners, but in that moment, I felt like telling the truth.
I wanted to make completely clear what my position was concerning this change in our lives.
William didn’t seem offended. He held my hand longer than necessary, and I felt strange.
“I know this is a very abrupt change in your life, Noah, but I want you to feel at home, to enjoy what I have to offer you, and especially for you to accept me as part of your family…eventually.” He added this last part when he noticed my incredulity. From his side, my mother’s blue eyes shot arrows at me.
All I could do was nod and step back so he’d let go of my hand. I didn’t feel comfortable with those shows of intimacy, especially from someone I hardly knew. My mother had gotten married—great for her. That didn’t make that man anyone to me—not a father, not a stepfather, not anything like that. I already had a dad, and he’d been enough for one lifetime.
“How about I show you around the house?” he proposed with a big smile, as far as possible from my coldness and bad mood.
“Come on, Noah,” my mother said, taking my arm and giving me no choice but to walk beside her.
All the lights were on inside, so I didn’t miss a single detail of this mansion that would have been too big for a family of twenty, let alone four. The ceilings were high, with exposed wood beams and big windows opening to the outside. A huge stairway in the middle of an immense room split in two on the upper floor. My mother and her husband took me all through the mansion, from the living room and the kitchen with its oversize island—which I knew my mother would be crazy about—to the gym, the heated pool, party rooms, and a big library that made an impression on me.
“Your mother told me you love to read and write,” William said, awakening me from my stupor.
“Same as tons of other people,” I replied bitterly. I didn’t like him being so friendly with me. I didn’t like him talking to me at all, to tell the truth.
“Noah,” my mother said, and looked me dead in the eyes. I knew she was having a tough time, but she’d deal. I was going to have a whole bad year, and there was nothing I could do about it.
William didn’t seem to notice our silent exchange and went on smiling as if nothing was happening.
I was frustrated and uncomfortable. This was too much—too different, too extravagant. I didn’t know if I could ever get used to living in a place like this.
All at once, I needed to be alone; I needed time to assimilate everything.
“I’m tired. Can I see my room?” I asked in a less strident tone.
“Of course. On the left wing of the second floor is where you and Nicholas have your rooms. You can have anyone you want over, Nick won’t mind. Plus you two will be sharing the game room from now on.”
The game room? Seriously? I smiled as best I could to keep from thinking about how from now on I was going to have to live with William’s son. All I knew about him was what my mother had told me—that he was twenty-one, was studying at the University of California, and was an appalling prep. I mean, I made up that last part, but it had to be true.
As we climbed the stairs, all I could think about was how from now on, I’d have two men I didn’t know under the same roof. It had been six years since a man—my father—was in my house. I’d gotten used to just women, just the two of us. My life had never been a bed of roses, especially during my first eleven years of life. The problems with my father had scarred me as well as my mother.