Underwater

Chapter 4

Yes, I grew up in a family that never worried about money. Mom had started making a name for herself a few years before I was born, which brought me into a world that gave me a kind, easy, financially stable upbringing. Of course, Aunt Del had and still does wrangle with money woes due to her impulsive decisons, free spirit, and commitment to never holding a steady job. But Dad was a Marine and Mom was no Valentino, not even a Kate Spade, kind of a smaller label. So it's not like we had so much money we didn't even know what to do with it. That's why I wasn't prepared for the Conrads.
The house was a huge, Tuscan home with smooth tan paint and vines curving around in all the places to make it look picturesque. It was perched on the end of the cliff that overlooked Moonlight Beach, positioned on the slope that faded into sand. You could hike straight down to the beach. I say hike because the walk is more of a climb up or down due to the steepness of the pathway. Bexley puts her Lexus in park in a huge circular driveway that is packed full of cars. Are they having a party? Oh god, I look like a bum!
"I didn't know there was company! I would've dressed nicer!" I exclaim anxiously, running my hands through my hair. This sends Bexley into an absolute fit of laughter, she's actually crying from how hard she's laughing.
:Um?" I ask quietly. She looks up like she just remembered I'm there and then waves me off.
"What's so funny?" I hurry after her as she heads in the direction of the house without explanation.
Entering the Conrad home for the first time was like being thrown into a different universe. Though the style of the architecture was Tuscan, the house was decorated in full on beach. It was painted soft whites and blues with nautical decor everywhere. Every room had at least one sandy surfboard perched on the wall. It was neat, but absolutely messy. Pictures were everywhere: lining the walls, up the staircase, on every table and bookshelf, covering the fridge. It hits me so hard and so suddenly I'm taken aback. It's the most comfortable house I've ever been in. It feels full of love and joy.
"You're not saying much" Bexley points out.
"This is the most amazing house I've ever been in" I smile wide.
"Really?" She says, smirking.
"It's so full of, I don't know... life. I haven't felt that in a long time" I answer, walking out of the entry hall to the living room, taking it all in.
"Thirsty? Hungry? 'Cause we're going down to the beach before Mr. and Mrs. come home with dinner" Bexley offers, pulling a water bottle out of a white, wood fridge. She hands me one too and then leads me out a sliding glass door onto a tuscan style porch. There's surfboards, volleyballs, and boogieboards in piles on it and my mouth drops. I've never seen so many surfboards in my entire life.
"I'm guessing someone surfs" I try, still in shock. Bexley raises her eyebrows and mutters, "Someone."
We shuffle our way down the steep, sandy path carved out of some beachgrass to get to the beach. I was just here the other day. How did I not notice the gorgeous house on the hill with the private pathway to the beach?
"I chose swim, and Major did too. He loves watching me do it, and he's got solid passion for it. So he broke the streak" Bexley explains.
"The streak? What kind of streak?" I'm confused, still looking to her for answers. She just keeps walking though, past both yellow flags which separate the surfers and the swimmers until we're finally to the mass of surfers I saw a few days earlier.
"They're the surfers" she points to the group. There's at least eight of them, that sounds impossible.
"They're all your brothers?!" I exclaim, clearly baffled.
"Well no, Just the pretty ones. The black dude is Calloway. He's the best, he's sponsored by Quiksilver. He's going to be a sophomore at UH this year, but since he's pro his academic schedule is kind of wonky as you can imagine. But he's the second oldest. Adopted oviously" she explains him to me and I nod in understanding. He's the one I saw the other day, no wonder I thought he was the best. "Oh, and the oldest is Rush. He's the one with the cheesy, swept back golden hair. He's at grad school at USD for business. He wants to be an entreprenuer, like Mom. But obviously not the fashion design part" she chuckles, flipping her hair again. "Of course, there's Benton" she rolls her eyes. "Who?" I ask, scanning all the other surfers besides Calloway and Rush. "My twin. The textbook surfer dude" She waves her hand in his direction and I immediately know who she's talking about. He looks alarmingly similar to Bexley: the straight, white smile, the super tan skin, the tall, lean but muscular build. But his hair was curly, and golden, however, laced with enough platinum highlights to look like the matching male counterpart of his twin. "Yeah, I know," she chuckles, seeing my face, "It's actually really annoying, he's super nice and polite, with his little dry sense of humor. He's impossible to not like. Don't tell the others but I love him the most." "And then there's Grayson and Bisbee. Gray is fifteen and Bis is eleven, they're getting really good. Win competitions all the time, just like Cal, Rush, and Bent did" she explains about the last two. They both resemble Rush and Benton, tan and good looking in different shades of towhead. Grayson's is platinum, just like Bexley's, but Bisbee's is the ashiest out of all of them. Of course, they all have variations of gorgeous blue eyes. Great.
"That's a lot of brothers" I comment, still in shock.
"They're not so bad. They give guys a hard time for us, and they're all really amusing" she grins.
"Us?"I ask. Oh god there's more? She cracks another smile, she's totally amused by my reactions.
"Yeah, see the beach volleyball players?" she points to the courts I dragged the chairs right across a few days earlier. I nod.
"They're playing doubles at that second court over. The girl in the purple Jolyn is Paloma's best friend, not a sister though. So next to her is Paloma, and then on the other side is Greer and Waverly. Wave is Bis' twin." After she says this I can clearly see the resemblance, not just between the twins, but all of them. They're beautiful, the perfect breed of children.
"Oh, they're coming in. And don't stare Ricki" she reminds me. I open my mouth to correct her, but close it quickly.
"Are Mom and Dad home yet,Bex?" The oldest one, Rush, calls out. Bexley tosses a towel at him and shakes her head, "Not when I came down. How were the waves?"
"Sick!" Bisbee shouts enthuiastically. You can tell how enthralled he is in surfing, so young and so passionate. He has good spirit.
"Nothing like Hawaii", Calloway grumbles, hauling the surfboard onto his shoulder. He brushes past me and I quickly stumble out of the way.
"Rude, you almost killed my newest stray!" Bexley calls out after him. She rolls her eyes and flips her hair, turning back to the group of boys.
"Where'd you pick her up?" Benton asks, rubbing his jaw as he examines me. He looks a little older then seventeen, with his slight stubble and his dark blue eyes that sat next to smile lines on his face. Who even smiles that much at our age? We should have frown lines and bald spots from ripping our hair out.
"Swim. She just moved back home from Arizona" Bexley gives the briefest of backgrounds on me and Benton reaches out his hand to shake mine, smiling wide.
"Welcome back, California. Benton" He introduces casually. I take his hand and shake it firmly. Bexley's right, he's polite, but also comes off kind of phony. I give him the benefit of the doubt and the same tight, polite smile I offered Bexley this morning.
"Ricki St.James" I introduce quietly.
"That's not a name you hear often on a pretty little lady like you. The name's Rush" the oldest one shakes my hand as well. What's with these sincere introductions? A head nod or even a brush past like Calloway pulled would've sufficed.
"To be fair, Rush isn't written very often on a birth certificate" I fire back in the sweetest voice possible. This earns a chuckle from Grayson, Benton, and Rush, who leans into Bexley as he heads back whispering, "Let's keep this one." Bexley just summons her mysterious smirk in reply.
"Well I'm Grayson, and this is Bisbee. Nice to meet you" Grayson repeats the introduction previously performed by his older brothers, and waits for Bisbee to realize he must do it as well. I look to Bisbee, who I quickly realize is entranced by me. Benton hits him in th eback of the head and Bisbee snaps to reality.
"Um, hi, Bisbee. But you can call me Bis, everyone does" he grins goofily and I can't help but smile back.
"Sorry, he's a doofus. Didn't really have a chance to warn them like I warned you" Bexley whispers in my ear as we head back up to the house.
"What? Oh gosh no, they're really nice" I brush her apology off casually and she seems to sigh in relief.
"So, Mom and Dad should be home and making dinner, but sometimes Dad's schedule is weird. He's the police chief."
"Really?" I ask, absolutely floored.
"Yeah, why?"
"Oh, it's just, you guys all- and you have a-" I try to relay what I'm trying to get out without sounding like a total materialistic bitch. But to my relief Bexley just laughs in understanding, opening the door for me as we make it up the steps onto the porch.
"No, Mom is the one who makes bank. She's a fashion designer. Cora Conrad? Maybe you've heard of her?"
Heard of Cora Conrad? She was my mother's greatest inspiration. She sat eagerly by her computer at every fashion week to see all the Cora Conrad lines effortlessly glide down the runway in their ever changing fashion. I can clearly remember the edgy sweater theme of her Winter 2010 line that had Mom running to her sketchbook with inspiration. Cora Conrad's clothes rocked the fashion world, and blew life into my mom's creations. I fight back the strong urge to cry at this incredible connection that washes over me as Bexley closes the door behind us to reveal a middle aged couple, leaning towards their salt and pepper years, in the kitchen. The man is no doubt a cop, his hair in an easy curly mess that matched all his son's, paired with a tan business suit, navy shirt, light blue, purple, and cream striped tie, and finished off with a pair of expensive leather loafers. Beyond fashionable for a police chief, you can tell his wife definitely has a hand in his wardrobe choices. She is aging, but still stunning. Slightly graying roots blend right into her stick straight, platinum hair that hides her relaxed face and soft blue eyes. She's dressed immaculately, Mom would've been fangirling so hard right now. I take a deep breath as Bexley yells out a hello and we make or way towards them in the kitchen. They're not chopping, slicing, and frying though. They're making cookies. Confused, I watch Bexley check the oven then look up, "Stuffed Peppers? GG is gonna bite your head off."
"Greer can suck it up, I forgot to go shopping. But I have to head to LA tomorrow so-"
"You could've just asked! But of course, I'll shop for you, Mrs." Bexley groans sweetly to her mother.
"I knew you'd be such a dear, so I'm making you triple chocolate cookies" Mrs. Conrad smirks to her daughter. There's that unreadable smirk Bexley inherited so obviosuly.
"You were making them anyway, but I'll take it."
"Major! come set the table!" Mrs. Conrad calls out. The smallest Conrad comes bounding down the steps, freshly showered. I watch them fall into this easy routine that though simple, seemed like something I'd missed out on.
"Bex, honey, you didn't introduce me to your friend" Mrs. Conrad peers up from her mixer through her light eyelashes to peek at me. I cross my arms behind my back and bounce my foot.
"Oh god, sorry Rick!" Bexley chuckles, coming over and dragging me in front of her mother. "Mr., Mrs., this is Ricki St.James. I met her at swim. She's been gone for a couple of years."
"So we've heard. Hello darling, it is quite an honor to meet the girl our daughter has been trying to outrace since she put on those goggles", Mrs. Conrad chuckles. She smiles so warmly, taking my hand in both of hers. She makes me feel important. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and try to think of something to say to Mrs. Conrad.
"Well, Mrs. Conrad, I hope she's not disappointed" I grin courteously.
"Oh don't be silly, you're very sweet... much sweeter than our white hot devil" Mrs. Conrad jokes, nodding her head at Bexley. Bexley easily ignores this as she sets waters and milks in strategic orders on the right side of each placemat. Milk, milk, water, milk, water, milk, milk, milk, etc.
"Sorry to ask this of you, honey, but would you mind pulling the dishes out of that third cabinet from the oven. We'll need...thirteen, I think" she counts this off in her head. I nod again and do as she asks, setting the dishes on each placemat. The dining table is a huge piece of stone set up on metal legs that stretches across the entire room, past the sliding door, and stopping right before the arched entryway to the TV room.
"This is a really cool table" I comment to Bexley, who takes a seat next to me.
"Oh yeah, Mom and Dad had it made from some rock they saw on a hike in Brazil or something. I don't know, they're weird like that" she explains, running  a hand on the rugged stone.
"Hey, Conrads, dinner!" Mr. Conrad shouts, pulling the stuffed peppers out of the oven. I wait to hear the rhythmic thump of eight feet pound down the stairs, and smile to myself when I do.
"I thought you'd be home for dinner" my mom says into the the phone, her lips tight and pursed as she raises a glass of wine to them. "Well I made dinner!" she says, exasperated. "You need to get this under control, you are still a part of this family whether you like it or not." I moved the fork on my napkin so that it was perfectly parallel to the knife. They were both untouched. We never started a meal before the whole family was there. I looked to dad and sighed. Mom hangs up the phone and I finally pick up my fork. "Well... hes not coming, as expected. Let's just eat" She says, her voice hard and bitter, matching her expression. We ate our dinner in silence that night, each one of us occasionally stealing disappointed glances at the unoccupied place setting next to me.