Hideaway

by Roberts, Nora

  She knew what it meant to be disposable to a parent, and felt her heart break even as her blood boiled. “Listen to me. Anyone who could do that, feel that, isn’t worth one more tear.”

  “Then why are you crying, too?”

  “They’re angry ones. Tits up, Darlie. Goddamn it, haul those tits up and take that offer. Take that offer right damn now and run with it. Because he doesn’t deserve you, and he sure as fuck doesn’t deserve that beautiful little boy.”

  “I thought he loved me,” she murmured. “Maybe he did, for a little while. I thought I’d found someone to share my life with, to build one with. Now it’s just another bad Hollywood story.”

  “You’ll ride that part out. It’s what we do, isn’t it? Have you called a lawyer?”

  “On the way here.” Breathing out, Darlie mopped her face. “Because you’re right about taking his offer and running with it. I want to get that written in blood—his—then he can have whatever the hell he wants. The only thing that matters is Luke.”

  “That’s right. What we’re going to do is get you and Luke something to eat, then we’ll go down and get you settled at my place. You can count on me and Consuela to fight over the baby. Add my grandfather into that when he gets back. He’s in New York for a few more days.”

  “I’m going to owe you for the rest of my life.”

  “Friends don’t owe friends. Wait until I take you two over to see the ranch.”

  “And the supersexy rancher. Oh, Cate, we’re going to be so in the way of that.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ll like him, and his family. And Luke is going to go crazy over the animals. I know he likes dogs—you said dog was his first word. Dillon has two sweet ones.”

  “We were—I was going to get him a puppy. I’d started looking at puppies.”

  “Well, he can have a trial run with Dillon’s Stark and Natasha. Right now, we’re going to have some lunch. And some wine with that.”

  “Oh hell, I didn’t pack a high chair, or a crib.”

  “I guarantee you we have them in the house, and whatever else you need. The Sullivans are always having babies.”

  By midafternoon, she had Darlie settled, with the baby in the bedroom—facing the hillside—adjoining the seaside room by a Jack and Jill bath.

  She had one of the high chairs in her kitchen, a bag of toys in her living area, and both mother and baby taking a much-needed nap upstairs.

  She called Dillon.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Somebody’s in a good mood.”

  “Having a real good day.”

  “I’m having a busy one. My friend—my closest friend’s here.”

  “Yeah? That’s Darlie Maddigan, right?”

  “It is. You pay attention. She needed a friend. Her marriage just went into the sewer so she came here with her baby. I’ll give you details on that if she tells me I can.”

  “Got it.”

  “So, I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Can I help?”

  “I actually think you can. When she’s feeling steadier, I’d like to bring them over. He’s about fourteen months old, loves animals.”

  “We’ve got a few of those.”

  “Dogs are the big love now. And I think your ladies will add something for Darlie. Just that female spirit.”

  “You know you can bring them, anytime.”

  “He’s energetic,” she warned.

  “Bet we can wear him out. I’ll miss you tonight.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  She would, she realized. She’d gotten used to seeing him almost every day, of sleeping with him almost every night.

  Turning to the glass wall, she looked out. She wasn’t ready to look past today, or maybe tomorrow on that part of her life. But she began to see that maybe, just maybe, it could roll like the sea. It could roll into forever.

  Sparks worked out the timing and chose movie night. Well, movie on the communal TV night. And The Great Escape won the vote. Again.

  He didn’t give a shit.

  What he cared about? A good group of inmates and guards in one place.

  It wouldn’t be easy doing what he had to do.

  The cops had given him the idea, and the more he’d played with it, the more he saw it as perfect.

  He’d already whined to Jessica about the police harassment, enlisted her—so fucking easy—to roll that over and add it to his pitch for parole. Maybe push that to early release.

  Her client might be in physical danger. Police were investigating just that possibility. Not safe in prison, and blah yadda yadda.

  Tonight would seal that one.

  He’d figured to wait until the movie ended, and everyone filed out, then realized he might lose his courage.

  Now or never, he decided.

  He knew where to aim—personal trainer—and jabbed the shank into his side, toward the back, just above the waist.

  He stumbled a couple of steps—motherfucker hurt—got an elbow, a shove. He managed to keep his grip on the shank, as if trying to yank it out. Went to his knees.

  Blood, he thought. A lot of blood. His blood.

  Seeing it, inmates scrambled back; guards pushed forward.

  And there went movie night.

  A baby changed things. A lot of things, Cate realized. It changed her friend. She witnessed for herself how completely Darlie focused on Luke’s needs, his wants, his happiness.

  The cuddles, the playtime, the feedings.

  “You’re a good mom, Darlie.”

  “I want to be. I try to be.”

  “You’re a good mom. You’ve got a happy kid, healthy, charming. And he’s easy with people because you let him be.”

  With Luke’s hand in hers, Darlie matched Luke’s toddling, then charging gait as they walked to Cate’s car.

  He wore a floppy navy sun hat, red Nikes, navy shorts, and a T-shirt that proclaimed him wild thing.

  “I stayed home with him for the first couple of months, even with the nanny. Then I took them both to the set for a while, so I could nurse and see him. Then Dawson was between projects, so I pumped because I thought he and Luke should have a chance to just be together without me hovering. That didn’t work out so well.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “I’m not.” When she shook her head, her long blond ponytail swayed. “Not even a little now. I weaned him just a couple months ago because it felt like he was ready. He’s all about the sippy cup, and he’s walking. Are you sure you want to haul us over there? We can stay here.”

  “We won’t go if you’re not ready.”

  “It’s not that.”

  When they reached the car, Cate helped with the baby, the diaper bag, the car seat.

  “I know we’ve sucked up time you’d have spent with Dillon. I don’t want us to horn in on your afternoon with him.”

  “You need to strap him in the car seat. I’m not sure I’d do it right. He’s a rancher, Darlie. And until I saw it all myself, I really had no idea how much work that means. Every day. He’ll take some time today, but you’ll see for yourself how much work there is. And his mother, grandmother? Those women are tireless. I don’t know how they do it all. We’re giving them a treat. This baby is a treat.”

  “He is for me.” She secured him in the car seat with his beloved Dog. “Honestly, I think he’s saving my sanity right now, if not my life.”

  She slid into the passenger seat, waited until Cate got behind the wheel. “I talked to my lawyer just before we left.”

  “And?”

  “Dawson signed the custody papers. Just like that, Cate. Like it was nothing. My lawyer said his lawyer wasn’t happy, but Dawson didn’t care. So I file the standard irreconcilable differences, and that’s the end of that. Except for the media storm.”

  “They can’t bother you when they don’t know where you are.” She drove to the first gate, paused, then eased through when it opened. “And you know what? The m
ore you take the high road, the harder they’ll be on him and his cheating slut of a nanny.”

  With eyes no longer red-rimmed and weepy, Darlie looked over with a smile. “I’ve thought of that.”

  “Of course you did. How else could we be friends? Traffic’s going to suck, but it’s not far.”

  “Cate, these past couple days. You saved my sanity, too.”

  “You sure as hell saved mine, more than once, back in the day.”

  “I haven’t said much to you about her. Charlotte Dupont. Because I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear it, or if it would just upset you. I’ve got a different take on that since I’ve been here.”

  “Different how?”

  “We’ve kept in touch. Even managed a few face-to-face times, but mostly it’s texts, emails, video chats. Spending even a couple days? You’ve got your tits up, pal. You’re more comfortable with yourself, and happier. I’m going to say you looked good in New York whenever I got to see you. And I worried some about you coming back here. But I shouldn’t have. You look even better here. Hell, you’ve got an amazing place, that rocking studio, you’re having sex with a rancher. Why wouldn’t you look even better?”

  “I love it here.”

  “It shows. So . . . do you want to hear about Charlotte Dupont?”

  “I’m pretty sure my family censors whatever they hear, whatever they know. So I’d like the uncensored version.”

  “Good, because that’s the way I want to tell it. She’s a joke in the industry. She gets work because her doddering, stupidly rich husband buys her work. Rumor is, and I believe it, he sometimes pays for reviews that don’t skewer her. When he doesn’t pay, they invariably do. And she’s had so much plastic surgery I’m not sure how much of her is still organic.”

  Unable to help herself, Cate barked out a laugh. “Really?”

  “Somebody—I wish it had been me—said she looks like Has-Been Barbie. Cold, but accurate. I’ve seen her a couple times, in person. Red carpet stuff or in a restaurant. I can tell you she doesn’t know when to quit going under the knife, the injections, whatever the hell she’s doing.”

  “Maybe you get the face you deserve in the end.”

  “Well then, wow. She’s got the one she deserves.” Shifting, she made faces at Luke to make him laugh. “She tried to talk to me once, at an event. Came over, with that face, diamonds dripping over her plastic boobs, tried to convince me to talk to you on her behalf. Sob story.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Forget that. I told her to fuck off. Just that: ‘Fuck off,’ and walked away. Felt good.”

  “I love you, Darlie.”

  “Love you back. Maybe I should buy a place up here. A getaway.”

  “You’ve got a place up here.”

  Reaching over, Darlie squeezed Cate’s hand. “I do, don’t I?”

  Cate turned off the highway onto the ranch road. Started the bumpy drive up.

  “Some road!”

  “It’s a ranch.”

  “Family ranch. I bet it’s sweet. I can’t wait to see how Luke reacts to ranch animals. And you helped make cheese and butter. What a riot. I’ve love to . . . This is not sweet,” Darlie managed when the near pastures, the house, the barns, the rising hills dotted with sheep and goats came into view. “This is just, well, stunning.”

  “It really is.”

  “I thought family ranch, small and sweet. This is—Look at the cows, right there. The cows get a view. Look at the cows, Luke!”

  At the moment, he continued an important conversation with Dog.

  “Oh.” Darlie gripped Cate’s arm. “Is that the rancher? Tell me that’s your rancher. On a horse, with a hat, and a body. A really good body.”

  “That’s Dillon. He was probably checking fences.”

  “He’s got dogs with him. Dogs, Luke!”

  He looked up at the magic word, and his head swiveled from side to side. His reaction was a long squeal and an impatient bounce. “Out, out, out!”

  “You bet.”

  Darlie popped out to free him when Cate parked. “Cows, baby, and horses, and sheep.”

  “Dog!”

  He tried to wiggle free when the dogs ran over.

  “They won’t hurt him,” Dillon called out. “They like kids.”

  Cautious, Darlie crouched with him, felt his joy when the dogs sniffed and licked. He shoved free, plopped right down on the lawn, gut-laughing as they wagged.

  “Dog!” He did his best to hug them to him.

  “Well, they’re in heaven now.” Dillon dismounted, wound the reins on a fence post. He walked straight to Cate, lifted her an inch off her feet, took her mouth.

  “Missed you. Sorry,” he said to Darlie.

  “Don’t be sorry. Do it again.”

  “Happy to.” When he had, he set Cate back on her feet. “I already like your friend. Dillon Cooper.” After pulling off a work glove, he offered a hand.

  “Darlie, and Luke. Dog was his first word.”

  “It’s a good one.” At ease, Dillon hunkered down. “How’s it going, big guy?”

  “Dog,” Luke responded in a tone of pure love. He spotted Dillon’s horse. Eyes widened. “Dog!” As he scrambled up.

  “Let’s try this.”

  Dillon scooped the boy up, walked him over to the horse.

  “Pet right here.” He guided Luke’s hand to the horse’s neck, stroked it along.

  Darlie looked over at Cate. Laid a hand on her heart. Rolled her eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Darlie couldn’t get used to the glass wall of Cate’s cottage. Luke loved it, evidenced by the little smeared fingerprints and mouth prints he left on a regular basis.

  She appreciated the wonder it brought into the house, but it made her feel exposed, one-way glass or not. For Cate, she knew, it offered freedom.

  Just as the open windows offered freedom and sea-tinged breezes. In L.A., even behind walls and gates, Darlie would never leave windows open through the night, or doors unlocked.

  Seeing Cate’s life here, sharing it with her for a few days, made her realize Cate made the right choice, for her, when she’d taken another path.

  And now, Darlie thought, she had her own choices to make about direction. Just which path did she take now? Which path when she had Luke to think of, first, last, always?

  She’d been an actor all her life, so she knew the roads, the obstacles, the tricky turns. Could she—should she—navigate all of that as a single mother?

  So while her son punched every side of his music cube—again—and Cate closed herself in her studio to work, Darlie talked to her agent.

  And her lawyer.

  And her business manager.

  Between conversations, she distracted Luke with other toys, put him in the high chair for a midmorning snack. Cleaned up the debris from the snack, and wondered how women ever managed to have more than one child.

  Grateful to get off her feet, she stretched out on the floor to play with Luke and his building blocks, thought over her options. And watched her son.

  He could say Dada—along with Mama, Hi, Bye-bye, Mine, No, Out, Up, Cate, and, of course, Dog. Since the ranch visit, he’d added Cow and Horse. All of those clear among a lot of chattering/babbling and half words she’d learned to translate.

  But not once had he said Dada since they’d come to Big Sur.

  Did babies forget so quickly—or had he never really bonded with his father? How could Dawson not feel what she felt, this overwhelming love for the wonder they’d created together?

  “He doesn’t, and that’s that.”

  “Mama!” After pulling back her attention, Luke knocked over the short tower of blocks, and laughed like a maniac.

  “That’s right, baby. We knock it down and build it again. We just build it again. And better.”

  She pulled out her phone, redialed her agent. “Make the deal.”

  Determined, and a little terrified, she went back to building towers until the knock on the
door jolted her.

  Before she gained her feet, the door opened. Her heart flipped up, then settled again when she saw Dillon with a market bag.

  Stark and Natasha raced in, and straight to the squealing, laughing Luke.

  “Sorry. Delivery.”

  “Come in. You’ve just made my son’s day,” she added, grinning at the rolling, happy heap of boy and fur on the floor.

  “Well, they figured it was time for another visit.”

  “It’s good to see all three of you. Cate’s recording.”

  “She usually is this time of day, so I just drop her order off if she’s in there.”

  “I’ll take it. What have we got?”

  “Mostly dairy. My ladies sent some cookies for your boy. They’re smitten.”

  Luke toddled over to Dillon, lifted his arms. “Up!”

  “Want up here?” Dillon passed the bag to Darlie, picked Luke up, tossed him a couple times to make him laugh.

  Seeing a man playing so easily, so naturally with her boy made Darlie’s heart hurt a little. “You’re good with babies.”

  “It’s not hard.”

  “It is for some.” And because it made her heart hurt, she repeated the old mantra.

  Tits up.

  “You’re good with Cate, too.”

  “It’s not hard,” he repeated as he tossed Luke again, and Darlie walked over to unpack the market bag.

  “Not if you love her.”

  Since Luke wanted down, Dillon gave him back to the dogs, then stepped nimbly around the scatter of toys. “Easiest thing I ever did. I don’t suppose you’d tell me how close she is to feeling the same.”

  “I’ll say, as her friend, you check a lot of boxes for me. You should come to dinner tonight.”

  “I should?”

  “You should. She’ll figure out something to make. Me, I stir and mix. I’m a mediocre chopper and slicer, but I excel at stirring and mixing.” Puzzling on where to put the eggs, cheeses, creams, butters, milk, she glanced back at him.

  “I’ve been an actor since I was about Luke’s age. It’s what I know how to do.”

  “You’re good at it. But you know more than that. You know how to be a mom. How to be a friend. Those rank high on my scale of knowing.”