Jack drove up the driveway to an iron gate and stopped. “The other cars are in back,” he explained. He swung open his door. “Let’s go through the house.”
They all climbed out.
Brenda felt as if she’d escaped from a refrigerator. The heat felt wonderful. She took a deep breath. Smelling smoke on the wind, she looked all around. The air seemed a little hazy.
Jack and Fran were already heading across the front lawn. Quentin walked a few strides behind them, while Baxter waited beside Brenda.
“Worried about the fires?” Baxter asked.
“A little.”
“I think they’re pretty far away. You know, you can smell the things for miles.”
“Yeah.”
“And there aren’t any cops or firemen around. Or helicopters. If nothing else, there’d be news choppers all over the sky if this area was threatened.”
“That’s for sure.” She started walking after the others, Baxter by her side but walking in the grass. “I just wish we’d stayed at the car wash. This was a lousy idea.”
“Fifty bucks is a lot,” Baxter said.
“I’m not so sure about this guy.”
“He seems okay.”
“Fran likes him. That’s the thing. She hasn’t had very good luck with guys.”
“I know how that goes.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t mean with guys.”
“I know.” She smiled and watched him blush.
They caught up with the others on the front stoop. Jack was just opening the door. “Come on in,” he said.
Everyone followed him into the house.
The air was warm and pleasant. It carried a smoky odor that frightened Brenda for a moment. Then she recognized the scent as balsam. Somebody had apparently been burning incense.
Jack shut the door.
The others stood mute in the foyer, looking around.
“You don’t have to worry about my parents,” Jack said. “They’re gone. Nobody’s here but us, so we can just like relax and have a good time.”
“Sounds cool to me,” Quentin said.
“It’s a gorgeous house,” Fran said.
“Thanks.”
“How about showing us around?”
“We’d better get to the cars,” Brenda said.
Fran gave her a peeved look. “I think we could spare two minutes.”
“I’m game,” Quentin said.
Jack shook his head. “I don’t know. The place is a real mess.”
From where Brenda stood, she could see that he wasn’t kidding; straight ahead, what looked like several days’ worth of newspapers were scattered over the carpet in the middle of the den.
“Why don’t I show you the kitchen?” Jack suggested.
They followed him to the right.
“It’s sort of a mess, too, but we can get some drinks.”
“We’d better get started on the cars,” Brenda said. “Maybe when we’re done with them…”
“I could use a drink,” Quentin said.
“Yeah,” said Fran. She gave Brenda another look. “Me, too.”
Turning to Brenda, Baxter said, “I’m not thirsty. If you want, we could go ahead and get started on the cars. They could come out when they’re ready.”
“I’d have to open the garage,” Jack said.
“Okay,” Brenda said. “Why don’t you do that, and we’ll…”
“What’s the big hurry?” Fran asked.
They entered the kitchen.
“We shouldn’t even be here,” Brenda said.
“Nobody’ll know the difference.”
“I know the difference. We were supposed to stay at the car wash, not go traipsing off somewhere.”
“That’s a good one coming from you.”
Jack opened the refrigerator. “We’ve got Pepsi, Diet Coke, and beer.”
“Beer?” Quentin asked.
“Coors, Corona, and Bud Lite.”
“No beer,” Brenda said.
Fran smiled at Jack. “I think I’d like one. How about a Bud Lite?”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Brenda muttered.
“I’ll have a Corona,” said Quentin.
“Me, too,” said Jack. He reached into the refrigerator, handed a can of Bud to Fran, then took out two bottles of Corona. The glass of the bottles was clear. The beer inside was pale yellow and looked to Brenda a lot like urine.
“How about you, Baxter?”
“No thanks. I don’t drink.”
“Go ahead,” Quentin told him. “Have a brew. Live a little. I know you want one. You’re just scared of going against Brenda.”
Baxter’s face went crimson. “I am not. But we’re not here to have a party. Besides which, you’re all under age.”
“Big fuckin’ deal,” Quentin said. “Gonna be a pussy all your life?”
At the counter, Jack pried off the Corona tops with a bottle opener. Then he handed a bottle to Quentin.
“Gracias,” Quentin said.
Smiling at Brenda, Jack said, “I guess you don’t want a beer.” He had a funny look in his eyes.
Bastard, she thought.
“No thank you,” she said.
“Pepsi? Diet Coke?”
“No thanks.”
Fran popped open her can. Some beer fuzzed out of the top. She sucked it off. Then she said, “Why don’t you just have something, Brenda?”