The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara
Seventy-Nine
Inglenook is the last stop. It’s a majestic chateau with a breathtaking vineyard, once owned by a Finnish sea captain and later restored by Francis Ford Coppola, according to the guide. There’s something magical about this place, with its terrace that reminds me of Italian piazzas in old movies and mysterious infinity caves like you’d see on exotic islands.
It’s dark out, and the estate is lit by hundreds of fairy lights. A small party is happening on a brick platform at the edge of the property. Ethan and I sit on the lawn, both a bit tired, listening to the slow music and watching couples dancing.
“I’ve lived in California all my life, and it’s my first time seeing this place,” he says.
“You didn’t know about it?”
The music stops for a moment before the next song begins. The night is silent around us, except for a lone cricket in the tall grass.
“No, I did. I just didn’t want to come here alone.”
Lonely Ethan. I find it hard to picture. He has it all; why wouldn’t he also have someone?
“What about your ex-wife?” I ask.
“What about her?”
“I don’t know. Just wondering why you didn’t bring her here.”
“Isabella and I were wrong for each other from the start. Nothing in common.”
“Do you think you need to have something in common with the person you’re with?”
“At least your values, yes. Principles. I’m not talking about a shared passion for stamp collecting. Just the high-level stuff.”
I nod. Maybe they had opposing views regarding kids or careers. I’m not sure.
“I seem unable to pick a partner who views monogamy as a rule, not the exception.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t realize—”
He shrugs as if saying… it is what it is.
Who would’ve imagined? Ethan, cheated on? It makes me sad knowing someone caused him the pain I experienced because I know how it changes you. It diminishes you and makes you question your worth. Ethan should never question himself. He has it all, and so much to offer.
“If nothing else, we have that in common,” I say sourly.
He turns to me. “That’s the last thing I want to have in common with you.”
Ethan seems angry suddenly, and I don’t know if he’s mad at me or in general. I can’t read his reactions right now. “Enough of this,” he says. “If I’m not back in five minutes, send back-up,” he jokes and gets up.
“Where are you going?”
He puts a finger to his lips and goes in the direction of the party.
It’s been five minutes, and he’s not back. I’m on my feet, looking out in the distance, but I can’t see him anywhere. Then I suddenly hear voices coming from somewhere to the right of where I’m standing. From the darkness, a group of people approaches—two women, wearing long dresses and holding their shoes in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, two men in black suits, and Ethan.
“I got hijacked,” he says when they reach me.
I don’t know if they just met or they’ve known each other before tonight, but they all seem super comfortable with each other.
“Cleo, Rebecca, Greg, Ian, this is Maya,” says Ethan.
They all smile and shake my hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, slightly uncomfortable.
The men huddle around Ethan, close enough that I see him looking my way from time to time, far enough that I don’t hear their conversation.
“Want to sit?” asks Rebecca. “My feet are killing me.”
“Sure,” I say.
“We’re taking a break from the chaos,” she says, pointing at the terrace. “My sister’s engagement.”
“Congratulations,” I say.
“Thank you. It was such a nice surprise to see Ethan here,” says Cleo. “Small world.”
“Are you guys friends?” I ask.
“Rebecca and I work at a magazine in Monterey. Breeze. It’s OK if you haven’t heard of it,” she adds, guessing by my stare what I was about to say. “We met Ethan a few years ago when he started writing articles for Breeze.”
“Nice,” I say.
“Are you two—” asks Rebecca.
I smile awkwardly. Thank God it’s somewhat dark here. I think I’m blushing.
“No. No. We’re just… friends,” I say.
“Too bad,” says Cleo.
You tell me?
“Are you a reporter or an editor?” I ask Cleo.
“I’m a sportswriter.”
“That’s cool. What kind of sports?”
As she starts talking about some of the events she’s excited to cover this summer, I find out most of them are car-related, and I immediately think of Celine.
“Monterey Car Week is in August. This will be my second time covering it,” she says.
I ask for more details, and she gladly offers them and then some.
“It starts on Friday with the Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca and a classic car show in Downtown Monterey. Just imagine: over thirty classic race cars lining Alvarado Street. It’s incredible. On Saturday, it’s the Monterey Pre-Reunion where I get to photograph 300 race cars that will be competing before the Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion. On Tuesday, it all moves to Carmel for the Concours on the Avenue on Ocean Avenue. It all gets closed to traffic and filled with almost 200 cars on display in groups of juried classes. There’s luxury cars, muscle cars, hot rods, and sports cars.”
Celine would be so happy to be in my shoes right now and have this conversation.
“I have a friend who is a race car mechanic. Race cars and sports cars, I guess.”
“Is he based out of the Bay Area?”
“She. Her name is Celine. And yes, she is in the Bay Area,” I say.
“She? Even better. I know the organizers are always looking for good mechanics in the area, especially for Laguna Seca, but for other parts of the week as well. Is she any good?”
“She’s amazing. She’s Ethan’s sister by the way,” I say and give her the phone number.
“Ethan’s sister? Wow. I’ll call her for sure. This will score me points with the organizers. Last year Tomassini had problems with some cars, and all the good mechanics were booked.”
I have no idea who Tomassini is and, honestly, don’t care. All I care about is that Celine will finally be doing what she’s dreamed of for years if this works out. And if I get to play a small role in that, I’m happy. This is the least I can do to pay her back for everything she’s done for me since I arrived in California.