How could I have ever thought her plain? I must have been blind.
As she reaches the screen door, I say, ‘You can’t scare me off with that butt-ugly T-shirt, you know.’
She clicks the lock on the door and admits me, glancing down at herself. ‘It works on most people. I could stand on the porch like a scarecrow and no one would come near.’
‘Except me.’ I pull her close and wrap my arms around her. ‘You know, if I keep you close enough, I can’t actually see it. Plus, it’s actually very soft, even if it is the most revolting T-shirt ever made.’
Her mouth quirks. ‘It does sort of look like it was tie-dyed in poop.’
I laugh. ‘Yeah, it does.’
I’d like to sweep her up, take her to her bedroom and strip it off. That’s not an option at the moment. One, her parents are home. And two, we need to talk.
As if she’s reading my mind, she shifts her eyes away from mine. Lucky for me, her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and those exposed, pink-tipped ears tell me she can read my mind. Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she reveals her anxious mental state.
Time to be serious, as much as I’d like to help her avoid it.
I take her hand and lead her to the sofa. The ceiling fan whirrs overhead, and Esther’s dog bed is still in the corner, though her collection of toys has been packed away. Rose bushes provide bursts of colour across the tiny back yard, and the aroma wafts through the open windows, as potent as a hothouse. As luxurious as my parents’ house is, I love it here. I love her watery-coloured bedroom and those fish swimming across her ceiling. I think River would love it too.
Her hand lays palm up in mine. Skimming the contours of her fingers, I concentrate on calming her. Her eyes are still downcast, watching my finger trace slowly over her skin. I know from that kiss yesterday that she wants me, but she’s always been capable of pushing those desires aside. If we don’t go deeper than that – if she won’t let me all the way in, apart from her physical response, I won’t be able to keep her.
‘I want to apologize for not trusting you,’ I say, and she frowns as her eyes snap to mine. This is not what she expected me to confess. Good. ‘I was afraid of what you’d think of me if, or when, you found out about River. But you’ve been the one person to continually see anything worthwhile in me, to help me see it – and I should have trusted in that.’
I recall the words she said when she found out about him: You’re doing the right thing, and I’m proud of you for it. Her eyes go glassy, and I cup her face in my hands as the realization hits. Fucking hell, how did I not see this? ‘You have faith in me – but not me with you.’
And that does it. She shuts her eyes and I know I’m right.
‘You love your parents, but you think they don’t know you. You may still believe in God, but not that he cares about you. You’re disconnecting, trying to protect yourself. But, baby, it’s not going to work. I’m here to tell you – it’s not going to work.’
All of a sudden, she’s crying, and I’m praying this conversation isn’t going to push her further from me.
I stand and pull a small, square box from my pocket. Go to my knees in front of her, so we’re eye to eye. ‘Dori, I have faith in us. I don’t know how else to prove to you that I want you forever.’ I open the box and set it in her open palm, and she gasps. ‘My grandmother willed this ring to me, to give to the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. When she died almost six years ago, I had no idea what my future held – or that someone like you would be part of it. That River would be part of it. I don’t know where I’ll be in another six years, but I know I want you there with me. With us.’
She stares down at the enormous sapphire stone, surrounded by slivers of diamonds and set into a platinum band. I don’t tell her that this ring also belonged to my great-grandmother. My maternal great-grandfather was one of those dudes who pulled his money from the stock market months before the crash, keeping his family beyond solvent at a time when many of his peers lost everything. Their son presented this ring to my grandmother, and it skipped a generation and came to me.
I close the box and shut her fingers around it. ‘Take this. When you’re ready, I want to put it on your finger. I want you to meet my son. I want you to let me bring you into my world – because I need you there. The media crap is just PR. Piece of cake for you, trust me. There are a hundred people ready to help us nail it. Let me help you rebuild your faith, because that’s who you are, and I love who you are.
‘Remember last fall, when you needed to be reckless, and I told you to use me? Well, now, it’s time to be fearless. I can’t promise that you won’t be hurt again, because life can suck. And, sometimes, it hurts like hell. I’m asking you to have faith in one thing, for now: the fact that when we’re alone, I’m just Reid, and you’re just Dori, and we’re going to love each other for the rest of our lives.’
She’s staring at me, the velvet-covered box clutched in her hand. I lean forward and kiss her, tasting her tears or my own, I don’t know which. ‘Come to me when you’re ready to be fearless. Unless you can look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t love me.’
Lower lip trembling, she says nothing, and I kiss her again before I leave.
28
BROOKE
‘Brooke,’ Janelle answers. ‘Please tell me you’re calling to say yes to Paper Oceans.’
‘I’m calling to say yes to Paper Oceans.’
‘Oh, thank GOD!’ My agent begins to squeal with joy and I jerk my mobile away from my ear. Jee-zus.
‘Janelle – I have one condition,’ I yell towards the phone.
The squealing ceases. ‘Okay. Let’s have it.’ She sighs. ‘I’m your agent – I was born to bitch up and negotiate. Hit me.’
Ugh. Dramatic much? ‘No negotiating necessary. This one is for Stan: tell him to go ahead and kill off Kirsten Wells, because she is never coming back to that damned beach.’
She shrieks with laughter. ‘Okay, seriously? After what he said to you on set last week, he can suck my –’
‘All right, then!’ I stop her before she finishes that thought and I’m stuck with a mental image I’d prefer to bypass. ‘We’re good. So, other than the occasional PR-necessary interviews and whatever pre-planning meetings the producers might need me to do beforehand, I’m officially out of commission until June. I’ll be back and forth between LA and Austin until then.’
‘Oh. So you’re going through with the adoption?’ She sounds confused.
I grit my teeth. Janelle is a determined I will never, ever have children sort of woman. I was, too, not long ago. An aversion to parenthood was something we had in common. I can’t expect her to suddenly relate to my new priorities – though I do expect her to work around them.
‘Yes. Reid has agreed to keep him while I’m filming in Australia. He’ll be between films in June.’
‘Huh. Impressive. You two are behaving better than most of my divorced-with-kids cohorts – and they’re in their thirties and forties. Those poor kids are like the rope in their parents’ I-hate-you-now tug of wars. Thank God I don’t have to ever speak to either of my douchebag exes again.’
I know instinctively I’ll never have that sort of issue with Reid. Whatever his past or present faults, he’s stepped up in a way I never could have foreseen him doing. If he wasn’t in love with Dori, I could fall for him all over again.
But he is in love with her. And I need his friendship too much, for River’s sake, and for my own. I learned my lesson with Graham, whose friendship I’m determined to earn back. Some day. If Emma allows it.
‘Heads up, Janelle – Rowena is getting an exclusive photo op of Reid and River and me. She’s going to “catch” us doing our first custody swap. Expect the story to break by the end of the week – I’ll need you to consider who to give the print story to. It’ll be jointly done.’
‘Wow. You’re using Rowena for this?’ she says. ‘So, it will be a breaking story – photos only, instead of an official announcement. That’s ballsy. But why am I surprised? Of course you’d approach this the way you do everything else: head on.’
Can’t argue with that. ‘I’ve gotta go. River will be here any minute.’
‘Thanks for the great news!’ she squeals. ‘I’ll be in touch!’
I have got to get some earplugs.
I’ve never made so much queso in my life, and I’m from central Texas. River seems to like to dip everything he eats in a bowl of cheese, and given the fact that we’re trying to get his weight up, his paediatrician has given the green light to unlimited amounts of it. To my son, everything is better dipped in cheese – except fruit. But hand the kid a chicken nugget or a green bean or a stick of celery, and into the queso it goes.
I also did something that Kris was none too sure about: I bought a dorm-room sized fridge for his bedroom. ‘Maybe not the best precedent …’ Kris said, but I know she was thinking what I thought when I bought it: at least the food he hoards won’t spoil. And it may get him to do it more openly, which could result in his no longer feeling the need to do it at all, at some point.
He also likes to sit in his closet occasionally, with the door almost all the way closed. So we constructed a little tented-off area in the back with blankets and pillows, and a safety light, though he sometimes sits in the dark. If I can’t find him, I know that’s where he is. I sit on his bed and call to him nonchalantly, telling him it’s time for lunch, or bath, or pyjamas and a book. Eventually, he emerges, always holding Hot Dog … who is going to need a bath of his own soon. His fur is sporting all sorts of random stickiness and, unsurprisingly, cheese.
‘Hi, River,’ I’ll say, as though it’s perfectly normal for a kid to want to sit in a dark closet.
He climbs up beside me, and I smile as though it doesn’t break my heart that he needs to hide. That he still gets that scared. That he still doesn’t speak.
‘He’s had one bad dream this week,’ I tell Reid quietly, as River stands at the hiking barricade, checking out the big Hollywood sign in the distance. He holds a finger out, tracing the letters in mid-air. I’ve had him for three days, and he’s going home with Reid now. ‘He yelled, “No” and “Don’t hit Mama”. But he stayed solidly asleep.’
‘Jesus,’ Reid says, watching him. We’re both smiling, because Rowena is a small distance away, taking photos. My smile has never felt so unnatural.
‘I’ll call you if I have any problems.’ He looks down at me, and the worry in his eyes is plain. ‘You might want to keep your phone on twenty-four–seven.’
I smile up at him. ‘You’ll do just fine. But yeah, I’ll have my phone on and on me for the next four days straight.’
River’s second favourite place is the huge sandbox on my enclosed patio. Daddy sent it, along with a note: Brooke, I got Evan one of these and he loves it. I thought River might too. Evan is the starting forward on his soccer team, which I’m now assistant coaching. Rory’s interested in cars, so we’re taking a long weekend to go to the auto show in NYC. Thank you for your advice. It was spot on. Love, Daddy.
