California Girls(110)

“Good. Now we should probably go supervise what’s going on.”

Zennie and her mom went out into the garage. They spent the next ninety minutes getting the estate sale set up, and the first shoppers arrived at seven forty-five.

Two cranky-looking old guys blew through wanting to look at jewelry. When they found out that it was all costume, they left.

“As if I would sell my good things like this,” Mary Jo fumed. “How ridiculous. I took every valuable piece of jewelry to the bank last week to store in my safe-deposit box. I’m not an idiot.”

“Mom, you should probably go inside,” Finola told her. “That way you can make sure no one goes where they shouldn’t or takes anything.”

The big pieces of furniture were in the house, along with the displays of Hollywood memorabilia.

“Good idea. People are vultures. All of them.”

When she’d left, Ali grinned. “So she wants to sell her stuff, but she resents anyone who wants to buy it?”

“Don’t look for logic,” Zennie told her. “She means well, though.”

“She does.”

That was the last chance they got to talk for a while. More customers arrived and began looking through things. The furniture went quickly. By the time Clark arrived with doughnuts, the dining room table and hutch were being loaded into the back of a small box truck and two women were arguing over the living room furniture.

Zennie found herself oddly happy to see the curly-haired man in glasses and even as she told herself it was more about the doughnuts than him, she knew she was lying. This Clark who didn’t ask for much and was just a friend was way more to her liking than the one who wanted to date her. Although if truth be told, she wouldn’t object to the occasional kiss or two, which was really strange considering how she hadn’t been upset when they’d broken up before.

But there was no time to think about that. They barely had time to finish their doughnuts and for her to explain to her sisters that while she and Clark weren’t back together, they were friends, before more people arrived, wanting to look through everything.

The clothes went quickly, as did the toys. The artwork sold fast, but the kitchen stuff just sat there. Clark stuck around, helping carry items to people’s cars. Around eleven, a sleek two-seater Mercedes convertible pulled up in front of the house and a handsome older man got out.

“I saw online you had some Hollywood memorabilia,” he said to Zennie. “Can you point me in that direction?”

She stared at the guy, frantically trying to place him. “It’s inside.” She pointed to the open front door. “My mom’s in there. She can show you.”

Finola walked up to them. “You’re Parker Crane.”

That’s who he is, Zennie thought. He’d been in a lot of movies when he’d been younger and now he had a successful detective series on TV.

“I am.” Parker smiled. “I keep an eye out for sales like this. I’m always curious what fans have collected. Sometimes they have things I don’t.”

Finola opened her mouth, then closed it. “My mom’s not a fan. What I mean is you, um, you knew her. After my father died.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m not sure why this is hard to say. My mother is Mary Jo Schmitt now but you knew her as Mary Jo Corrado.”

Parker’s eyes widened and he swung his head toward the house. “Of course I remember her. She and I... Well, you girls don’t want to hear about that. I always regretted how things ended. Is she, ah, married?”

Finola grinned. “Divorced. Why don’t you go inside and talk to her?”

Parker nodded and slowly approached the house. Zennie pulled Finola into the garage and motioned for Ali to join them.

“Mom had an affair with Parker Crane?” Zennie asked. “When, and how do you know this?”

“What?” Ali yelped. “Are you serious?”

“It was before she married Dad,” Finola said. “I just found out a few weeks ago when we were going through boxes. She has a bunch of stuff he gave her. Apparently it was hot and heavy and he just walked out on her.”

“So he’s a dick,” Ali said firmly.

“It was a long time ago.” Finola glanced toward the house. “He said he had regrets and it’s been a long time. This could be interesting.”

“So we don’t hate him?” Ali asked. “Doesn’t it seem like we should hate him?”

Zennie hugged her baby sister. “Times are changing. We’re going to have to change with them.”

*

Monday morning Ali was wrestling with the fact that her mother had gone off for lunch with Parker in the middle of the sale and had not returned. Around three she’d texted that they should shut down the estate sale at four and close up the house. Oh, and anything that didn’t sell could just be donated.

The sisters had done as she’d asked. Daniel had come by with his truck. He and Clark had loaded the remaining items into the back of it, then Daniel and Ali had taken it to a donation center.

By noon on Sunday, all three sisters were texting each other to see if anyone knew where their mother was. Mary Jo had finally responded to their increasingly frantic texts with a brief, I’m at Parker’s, I’m fine. You all need to get a life. And that was that.

Ali told herself that of course she wanted her mother to be happy. It was just all so strange and a little uncomfortable to think that her mother would have sex with some guy she hadn’t seen in decades. When she’d said that to Daniel, he’d pointed out that at least she had a little ammunition the next time her mother got judgy about her life.