Janelle Brown - This Is Where We Live: A Novel

I am indebted to those who helped me get to the finish line a second time.

Once again, I couldnt have done this without the Hive: Darcy Cosper, Colette Sandstedt, Benj Hewitt, and Greg Harrison, plus the much missed Carina Chocano. Dawn MacKeen was the best writing partner a woman could ask for, and kept me honest on those days when I just didnt feel like showing up.

Dan Crane and Brian Cleary shed light on the life of an indie rock musician in Los Angeles;Ted Walch and Brian Wogensen offered their insights into teaching at private schools; and Crystal Heatherly and Mike and Kristina Hart shared their inside knowledge of Mount Washington life and real estate.

As always, I received invaluable instruction and encouragement from the divine Susan Golomb and the brilliant Julie Grau. I am fortunate to be in your hands. Much gratitude to the whole support team at Spiegel & Grau, including Maria Braeckel, Laura Van der Veer, and Sally Marvin.

And finally, to my daughter, Auden, who allowed me no wiggle room on deadlines; and to my husband, Greg, again, because I can never thank him enough.

ALSO BY JANELLE BROWN

All We Ever Wanted Was Everything

J ANELLE B ROWN is the author of All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, a novel. A journalist who has written for The New York Times, Vogue, Wired, and Salon, she lives in Los Angeles.

SHE KNEW IT WAS COMING BEFORE SHE ACTUALLY FELT IT. SHE could sense it, this electric menace rumbling her way, the air suddenly heavy and full of static. Before she could even fix the word in her mindearthquakeit had begun: a vibration that started in the soles of her feet, as if the linoleum tiles of the kitchen floor were quivering beneath her. Her world going suddenly liquid.

Claudia stood frozen at the sink, looking out the window at the sun, which remained inexplicably fixed in the sky just above the swaying eucalyptus trees. Her stomach leaped northlodging somewhere in the general vicinity of her esophagusas the mug on the counter began to shiver and then rattled its way toward the basin. The floor rippled before her. Outside, the ancient bougainvillea showered violet petals across the splintered deck.

Earthquake! she shouted, turning in toward the house.

It grew stronger. She could hear itshed never imagined that an earthquake would be this loud but it was, the earth creaking and grumbling, answered by the agitated chattering of their dishes and artwork and knickknacks. Below her, she felt their home wrenching against its foundation. Claudia couldnt recall whether she was supposed to run for the door or climb under a table or locate the triangle of life, whatever that was; anyway, these options all struck her as pathetically impotent responses to this monstrous twisting. Instead, she widened her stance and gripped the counter, reminded of a surfing lesson shed taken a few years back. Its just like a wave, she thought. You have to ride it out.

Jeremy appeared in the dining room in his boxer shorts, holding a can of shaving cream. Half naked, the room breaking loose around himpictures falling, chairs turning in nervous circleshe looked soft and thin and painfully vulnerable despite his height, but his voice, when he spoke, was firm. Get in the doorway!

She couldnt quite process his command, distracted by the exhilaration of this upside-down sensation, as if shed climbed onto a roller-coaster ride without a safety belt. And then Jeremy was yanking her arm and drawing her into the doorway. He blocked her in with his body, pressing her up against the wooden frame. She felt his rapid heartbeat through the silk of her cocktail dress, the trembling house against her back. Together, they watched as their wineglasses marched, one by one, off a shelf to certain death on the floor.

The house jerked violently, making one last break for freedom. An enormous crash came from the living room and Claudia shriekedless from fear than wonder and anticipation, a sense that in this next moment something might change forever. She visualized the concrete support beams that cantilevered their house over the canyon buckling and collapsing, leaving them buried under a pile of rubble. We could die, she understood, for the first time.

And then, just as suddenly, the earthquake was over, a dying echo as the ground once again grew solid beneath them.

Still, they stood there in the doorway for a long moment, suspended in time, wary. In the canyon, Claudia could hear dogs barking, the plaintive wail of a fire alarm, yet everything was strangely still, as if all of Los Angeles were holding its breath. For the first time she could remember, she felt connected to the entire invisible city, ten million people united in terror for fifteen glorious seconds. I love it here, she thought, absurdly.

Then the city exhaled, and the spell broke. A car drove by outside and a helicopter passed overhead and the squeals of children rose from the park at the bottom of the hill. Claudia looked up at Jeremy, feeling his pulse slowing against her chest. The panic had subsided, replaced by an effervescent sensationperhaps the adrenaline of knowing that shed just cheated death, perhaps just the return of the giddy mood that had buoyed her since shed woken up that morning. A crystalline sort of joy washed over her, pure and blinding and sharp: for her husband, her home, her city, her life.

Hi, she said to Jeremys earlobe.

He shifted and gazed down at her, resting his forehead against hers. You OK? he asked, and ran his hands up and down her bare arms, checking for breaks or abrasions.

Im fine, she said. In fact, Im kind of turned on. Is that weird?

Jeremy kissed her nose and then her upper lip and let his torso rest against hers. Earthquakes are a known aphrodisiac, he said, his hand sliding toward the hem of her dress.

She kicked a piece of broken glass away with the toe of her sandal and tugged at the waistband of her husbands boxer shorts, fingering the damp skin trapped under the elastic. Was that the biggest earthquake youve experienced? she asked.

Nineteen eighty-nine was far worse. This one was hardly a blip in comparison.

In the eight years that Claudia had lived in Los Angeles, she had been in a few earthquakes, but only little ones that vanished almost as soon as you noticed them. She would read the newspaper predictions CALIFORNIA HAS MORE THAN 99% CHANCE OF A BIG EARTHQUAKE WITHIN 30 YEARS with morbid anticipation. Back in Wisconsin, theyd had tornadoes and blizzards, but those marched in with trumpets blaring, giving you at least a few minutes to brace yourself and barricade the windows. A California earthquake had always seemed to her a more glamorous kind of natural disaster, an abrupt and thrilling narrative shift. Shed been waiting for this moment since she moved here for film school, and now that it had finally arrived and been deemed only adequate by the native, she was disappointed.

Well, it felt big enough to me, she announced, as his fingers tugged at the skirt of her dress. She ran her hands up his bare back, riding the knobs of his spine. For a moment there I thought the house might collapse and crush us both.

Silly girl. His voice was low and phlegmy, his eyes winched shut. Water dripped on her face from his hair, still wet from his shower. We werent ever going to die.

And if we had? Isnt this the moment when were supposed to take stock and decide whether wed be satisfied with our lives had we just met an untimely death?

He wiggled a hand between her thighs. Well, would you?

She considered the question, distracted by his fingers. She let herself go limp and still Jeremys body held her upright against the doorframe: She felt secure here, as if an anchor were tethering her, keeping her from drifting off into unsafe waters. Yes, she said. Id be OK with dying today.