Page 17 of Malibu Rising

“Just wait,” Mick said. “We’re gonna have so much money it’s gonna be embarrassing.”

June laughed but that night, she went to bed dreaming about their future.What if they could have a king-sized bed? And a Cadillac? What if they could have three kids or even four? What if they could get married on the sand, under a huge tent?

When she confessed these ideas to him, asking if he thought any of it was possible, he always told her the same thing. “I’ll give you the world.”

He would whisper it in her ear as he took off her dress. He would pledge it to her as he put his leg between hers. “Anything you want. I’m going to make sure you get it.” He would run his hand down her back, kiss the skin behind her ears, grab her hips.

Who could blame June for how often she lay naked beside him before they were married? When he knew so well how to touch her?

When they realized June was pregnant, neither of them was surprised.

• • •

“June,” Christina said as she shook her head, standing in the kitchen of Pacific Fish, whispering her frustration. “I thought you were smarter than this, honey.”

“I’m sorry,” June said, nearly in tears. “I’m sorry.”

Christina sighed. “Well, you’re going to have to move up the wedding. That’s first. And then I guess we will get you a forgiving dress. And figure out the rest as we go.”

June dried her eyes.

“You’re not the first woman in the world to lose her head over a man,” Christina said.

June nodded.

“C’mon, now,” Christina said. “Cheer up, buttercup. It’s a beautiful thing.” She pulled June into her arms and kissed the top of her head.

Mick and June said “I do” in a tent under the stars, right there on the sands of Malibu. Family on her side. Some music executives on his.

That night, Mick and June danced cheek to cheek as the band played standards. “We’re gonna do it all right,” Mick said to her. “We’re gonna love this baby. And we’re gonna have more of them.And we’re going to have good suppers and happy breakfasts and I’ll never leave you, Junie. And you’ll never leave me. And we’ll have a happy home. I promise you that.”

June looked at him and smiled. She put her cheek back to his.

Toward the end of the evening, Mick got up in front of the crowd. He grabbed the microphone. “If you’ll indulge me,” he said, with a half smile. “I have a song I’d like to sing for you all tonight. I wrote it for my wife. It’s called ‘Warm June.’”

Sun brings the joy of a warm June

Long days and midnights bright as the moon

Nothing I can think of but a warm June

Nothing I can think of but you

June sat right in the front as he sang to her. She tried not to cry and laughed as she failed. If this was their beginning, my God, how high could they fly?

• • •

Nina was born in July 1958. Everyone pretended she was premature. Mick drove them both home from the hospital directly to a new house.

He had bought them a three-bedroom, two-story cottage, right over the water. Baby blue with white shutters on Malibu Road, the back half extending out over the sea. There was a hatch in the floor, on the side patio, that led to a set of stairs that went directly to the beach.

As if a new house wasn’t enough, there was a brand-new teal Cadillac in the driveway.

When June first walked through the house, she found herself holding her breath. A living room with windows that opened to the water, an eat-in kitchen, hardwood floors. Surely it couldn’t haveeverything, could it? Surely each one of her dreams hadn’t come true all at once?

“Look, Junie, look,” Mick said, leading her excitedly into the master bedroom. “This is where the king-sized bed will go.”

Holding tiny, delicate Nina in her arms, June followed her husband through the bedroom and soon made her way to the master bathroom. She looked at the vanity.

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