One Day at a Time

by Danielle Steel

  “Thank you,” she said, as she took the turnoff to Pacific Heights, wishing they were back at Jane's house again, back at the beginning, instead of at the end. “I love you,” she whispered, but she could no longer see any way to make it work, unless she wanted to live the same crazy existence he did, and she didn't. But she couldn't bring herself to say it to him. He knew.

  “I love you too” was all Leslie said.

  She went to pick up Sallie then, before she picked up the other dogs. Jane came to the door and told her she was sorry about her wrist. Coco smiled when she saw her. She was huge.

  “You're getting bigger,” she commented, and Jane rubbed her hands over her round stomach. She was wearing tights and a sweater, and she looked prettier than ever. There was something slightly softer about her face.

  “Three more months,” Jane said, looking apprehensive. “It's hard to believe.” They were commuting to L.A. by then, doing post-production on their film. Liz had said they'd be finished by Thanksgiving, which was a good thing. It would give Jane two months to take it easy and get ready for motherhood. “Are you and Leslie coming to Mom's for Thanksgiving?” she asked offhandedly, and Coco shook her head.

  “I am, but he'll be in New York with his daughter.” Coco didn't want to get into it with her and quickly changed the subject. “How was Gabriel, by the way?” She remembered that Jane had met him in L.A. and she hadn't talked to her since. Jane laughed at the question.

  “Young. Jesus, is he young. And Mom looks like she feels sixteen. It's a little unnerving, to say the least. He's a decent guy, I guess. I don't know what he's doing with a woman her age. It can't last, but at least she's having fun.” Coco was shocked to see that Jane had relaxed about it. She had expected her to be on a mission of destruction, and instead she didn't seem to care. “Whatever works. I guess we all have our crazy moments, and the right to make decisions about our own lives, whatever everyone else thinks. How was Italy, by the way?” Coco almost shuddered at the question, but she had steeled herself for it.

  “It was great,” she said with a broad smile and prayed her all-seeing sister didn't see through it. “Except for my wrist.”

  “That was shit luck, but at least it was your left wrist.” Jane didn't say a word about Leslie, and as Sallie followed her to the van a few minutes later, Coco wondered if Jane had relaxed about him too. The whole time they were talking, she'd been rubbing her belly, the way pregnant women did. Coco was wondering if something had changed. They were going back to L.A. until Thanksgiving, and Coco hoped that by then she wouldn't feel as though her own life had come to an end. She had lived through it when Ian died, and survived it. She could go through it again now, after Leslie, and knew she'd survive this too.

  She went to pick up the big dogs, and the ones in Cow Hollow after. She followed her usual route, and did everything she had to do. She went through the motions, and went back to Bolinas every afternoon, but she felt as though everything inside her had died. Leslie didn't call her for the next three weeks, and she didn't call him. He didn't want to push her, and she was trying to get over him and the best way to do it, she knew, was not to talk to him at all. She didn't want to hear his voice and fall in love with him all over again, and she knew she would. And then the same thing would happen again. She couldn't. It was too scary.

  Coco didn't talk to anyone until she left for L.A. on Thanksgiving, three weeks after Venice. She left Sallie with Erin, and she was only planning to go down for two days. Liz had invited her to stay at their rented house. And Gabriel was going to join them for Thanksgiving dinner. It was the first time she was going to meet him, although she had caught a glimpse of him that night at the Bel-Air when she saw her mother with him.

  Liz picked her up at the airport in L.A., and drove her back to the house where Jane was waiting. It was the night before Thanksgiving, and the three of them were going to have a quiet dinner. Liz didn't ask her about Leslie, and Coco didn't mention him. Coco was wondering if he had made it to New York for Thanksgiving with Chloe and her mother. He hadn't called her, and she had no idea if he had left Venice. She thought it was best to just leave things the way they were, to drift away. The die had been cast on their last night in Venice, and her decision had been made. He knew it from her silence, and she knew from his that he understood. They still loved each other, but there was no doubt in her mind now. It could never be.

  Jane was sprawled on the couch when she and Liz got back from the airport, and she waved when Coco walked in. She looked like a beach ball with arms and legs and a head, and Coco smiled as she walked over to give her a hug.

  “Holy shit, you're huge!” Her belly looked as though it had doubled in size in three weeks.

  “If that's a compliment, thank you.” Jane grinned at her. “If not, screw you. You should try wearing this.” Coco almost winced as she said it. She had put the idea of marriage and babies behind her, and hearing her say it made her think of Leslie instantly. “I don't even want to think about how big this kid is going to be in two months. It scares the shit out of me.”

  They talked and laughed over dinner. Liz and Jane had finished their film, and were moving back to San Francisco for good the following week. They were halfway through dinner and a good bottle of wine when Jane suddenly turned to her and asked how Leslie was. She suddenly realized that Coco hadn't mentioned him all evening.

  “Fine, I guess,” Coco said, trying to brace herself for what would come next. She gave a quick glance at Liz, who obviously hadn't said anything, and Coco was grateful for that. She had needed the last three weeks to compose herself before telling Jane.

  “Is everything all right with you two?” Jane asked, frowning.

  “Actually, no, it's not,” Coco said quietly. “It's over. You were right. We had a couple of minor brushes with the paparazzi, and on my last night in Venice, they ambushed us. And as you predicted,” she said stoically, “I folded like a house of cards. They scared the hell out of me. I wound up with seven stitches and a broken wrist, and I figured that was enough for me. I can't live like that. So here I am, alone again. Just me.” There was a long silence after she made her brief speech, and she was waiting for a barrage of “I told you so”s, and instead Jane leaned over and touched the cast on her wrist. By then, the stitches had been taken out, and the wound on her hand had healed. There was only a small scar to show for it, which was nothing compared to the condition of her heart. She felt as though it had been shattered.

  “The paparazzi broke your wrist?” Jane said in disbelief. She looked both sympathetic and stunned.

  “Not intentionally. I was getting out of a gondola at the dock at the Gritti, and one of them grabbed my ankle and tried to yank me back, so I fell back into the boat headfirst, and when I tried to break my fall, I cut my hand and broke my wrist. They ambushed us leaving a restaurant before that and smashed my back into a wall. We finally made it to the gondola, they jumped in with us, and nearly overturned the boat. There were about thirty of them and they followed us in three motoscafi, and then tried to keep us from getting out of the boat. It was pretty nasty.”

  “Are you kidding?” Jane said in astonishment. “What I meant was that they would follow you around and invade your privacy, and you're such a private person, I knew you would hate that. I never meant that they were going to beat the crap out of you, smash you into walls, try to knock you out of boats, cut you up, and break bones. Where was Leslie in all that?” She wanted to know if Leslie had left her to the wolves, and if so, she was going to call him and rip his head off.

  “He was with me. He did what he could, but there was nothing much either of us could do. We were in a back alley in Venice, and we couldn't even get to the boat at first. There were about thirty of them, and only two of us. It was pretty rough stuff.”

  “Christ, I'd have folded like a house of cards over that too. Did you end it after that?”

  “More or less. He knows how I feel. That's not how I want to live,” she said, trying to so
und matter-of-fact about it, but there was a catch in her voice that her sister understood, and so did Liz. She was still in love with him, but she had made a decision, and she was determined to stick to it, no matter how hard it was. She thought staying with him and living like that would be worse. But losing him was awful. Leaving Leslie was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

  “No one would want to live like that. He must have felt terrible about it.” Jane looked horrified by everything she had just heard, and the look in Coco's eyes broke her heart, as Jane leaned over to give her a hug.

  “He did. He was wonderful to me after. After I fell back in the boat, he just grabbed me, picked me up, and ran through them. I had to leave through the service entrance, in a black wig, with four bodyguards the next day.”

  “Christ, that's awful. I've heard of a few attacks like that over the years, but not many. Mostly they just push and shove and get in your face. I'm surprised he didn't kill one of them.”

  “He was too worried about me. I was bleeding all over the place by then.”

  “Why didn't you tell me when you got back?” Jane asked, looking distressed. She had glanced at Liz, who did not say a word.

  “I was too upset.” Coco sighed and looked at her sister honestly. “And I was afraid of what you'd say. You warned me in the beginning, and you were right.”

  “No, I wasn't,” Jane said, looking embarrassed. “I shot my mouth off, and Leslie gave me hell for it, and he was right. Liz gave me hell too. I don't know, I was just worried that you'd gotten in over your head or he was using you for a summer fling. I always think of you as a little kid. He leads such a big Hollywood life, and I couldn't imagine you being part of it. But you love each other, Coco. What happened to you in Italy is extreme. He can get bodyguards for you if he has to. I'm sure he would. You can't give up someone you love when the going gets tough.” She felt terrible now about everything she'd said before, and she hoped she hadn't influenced her to give up. Leslie had impressed her when he'd called her and read her the riot act. She had no question in her mind now that he was deeply in love with her, and she could see that Coco still was too.

  “I'm not cut out for that life,” Coco said simply. “It would drive me insane. I'd be scared to go anywhere, scared to take my kids out, if we had any. What if one of our kids got hurt by one of those lunatics? What if your baby was in danger of that every day?”

  “I'd find a way to protect him. But I wouldn't give up Liz,” she said quietly. “You love him, Coco. I know you do. That's a lot to lose.”

  “So is my life. They could have killed one of us that night. And afterward I kept thinking about all of Dad's horror stories about his clients. I never wanted to be one of them when I grew up, and I still don't.” She said it as tears rolled down her cheeks, and she brushed them away. “Leslie has no choice. He has to live that way. I can't.” The life went out of her eyes as she said it.

  “I'm sure after what happened, Leslie would see to it that it never happened again,” Jane tried to reassure her. Coco didn't answer, she just looked down at her plate and then back at her sister again and shook her head.

  “I'm too scared,” she said sadly as Jane reached out and touched her hand. Liz was proud of her when she did, and of everything she had said. She had a lot to make up for, and she had finally come through. Impending motherhood had done a lot to soften her sharp edges recently.

  “Why don't you give it some time?” Jane said quietly, still holding her hand. “When is he coming back?”

  “I don't know. I haven't talked to him in three weeks. Sometime around now, I think, if they're not running behind.”

  “You can't let those bastards run you off. You can't give them that too.” But she already had. Coco felt there was no turning back. This wasn't how she had wanted it to turn out, but after the paparazzi attack, Coco was afraid for her life if she stayed with him. Leslie knew that, which was why he hadn't been more forceful about trying to convince her otherwise. He loved her enough to let her go, if it was best for her.

  Coco helped Liz clear the dishes then, and Jane went to sit on the couch to watch TV. “What have you done to her?” Coco asked Liz in a whisper in the kitchen. “She was nice.”

  Liz laughed at what Coco said. “I think the hormones are finally kicking in. That baby may make a human being out of her yet.”

  “I'm impressed,” Coco said, as they put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, and went back to join Jane on the couch. They didn't mention the paparazzi attack again, and a little while later, they went to bed. They had to be at their mother's for lunch the next day, which was always a formal, traditional affair. And as Jane put it with a grin, this time the Boy Wonder would be there.

  They all got up late the next morning, and at one o'clock they drove to Florence's mansion in Bel-Air. Jane was wearing the only decent dress she had that still fit. It was a pale blue silk tent that looked pretty on her with her long blond hair. Coco was wearing a white wool dress she had worn in Italy, and Liz was wearing a well-tailored black pantsuit. And when she opened the door, Florence was wearing a pink Chanel suit that looked spectacular on her. And as they all stood hugging and kissing each other in the front hall, a handsome man in a gray double-breasted suit and Hermès tie approached them. Coco knew instantly who he was.

  “Hello, Gabriel,” she said with a warm smile, and shook his hand. He looked nervous at first, but as they sat in Florence's living room, under an enormous portrait of her in a ballgown and jewels, done several years before, they all started to relax and have a good time.

  Liz and Gabriel talked movies. He was starting a new one soon, and he said Florence had helped him immeasurably with the screenplay. She had just finished another book. And Jane was excited about the film they had just finished. It reminded Coco of the old days, when her father was alive, and they all talked about books, movies, new clients, and old ones, and movie stars came through their house constantly, and famous authors. It was the same atmosphere she had grown up in and was familiar to her. And she surprised everyone at lunch by saying she was thinking of going back to school.

  “Law school?” her mother asked, looking stunned.

  “No, Mom.” Coco smiled at her. “Something useless, like a master's in art history. I think I might like to study restoration. I haven't figured it out yet.” The idea had really taken hold in her head ever since she'd discussed it with Leslie two months before, and what she'd seen in Venice and Florence had spurred her on. “I can't spend the rest of my life walking dogs,” she said softly, as her mother and sister smiled.

  “You always wanted to do art history,” her mother said kindly. Much to Coco's amazement, for once no one was criticizing her, and telling her what was wrong with her, and how stupid her plans were. It had started with Jane the night before. Coco wasn't sure if she had changed, or they had. They had certainly all chosen different paths. Liz and Jane were having a baby. Her mother was in love with a man nearly half her age. And Coco had just walked away from the love of her life. It struck her, as she looked at them, that they had lives and she didn't. She had chosen to stay off the track for nearly four years now. Maybe it was time to move forward again. It felt like she was ready to do that, even without Leslie in her life. She needed a fuller life of her own, with or without him. The black sheep was returning to the fold, and for once they had the grace not to say it.

  Coco sat next to Gabriel at lunch, and enjoyed an interesting conversation with him about art, politics, and literature. He wasn't the sort of man who would have appealed to her. He was a little too Hollywood, in a way that Leslie wasn't. Gabriel was slicker, and part of the scene, but he was intelligent, and attentive to her mother. Florence was absolutely thriving on his attention, and she looked radiant and young. He was taking her to the Basel art show in Miami the following week. They were going skiing in Aspen after Christmas. They had seen all the recent art shows and plays. He took her to the symphony and the ballet. They'd been to New York twice in the last six mon
ths and seen every play on Broadway. It was obvious that their mother was having a good time, and even though his age shocked them, Jane and Coco agreed on the way home that he wasn't a bad guy.

  “It's kind of like having a brother,” Coco commented, and Jane laughed. He had talked about babies with her, since he had a two-year-old. He'd been divorced for a year and said the marriage had been a huge mistake, but he was glad to have his daughter, particularly now. Clearly, he and Florence weren't going to be having children. “Do you think she'll marry him?” Coco asked with a look of wonder.

  “Stranger things have happened, particularly in this family,” Jane commented, sounding more like her old self, but with more humor. She was definitely mellowing a little, or even a lot. “But to be honest, I hope not. She doesn't need to get married at her age. Why screw up what they've got? And if it doesn't work out, she doesn't need all the mess and headache of a divorce.”

  “Maybe she does need to get married,” Coco said pensively. “But what is she going to do with a two-year-old?” Gabriel sounded like he was very attached to his daughter.

  “The same thing she did with us,” Jane chuckled. “Hire a nanny.” All three of them laughed at that, and they chatted amiably through the evening, and Coco went back to San Francisco the next day. They invited her to stay for the weekend, but she wanted to get home. She was still feeling fragile.

  Before she left, Jane took her aside and talked to her again about Leslie. “Don't give up on him yet,” she said quietly, as Coco finished packing her bag. She was back in her old sweatshirt and jeans for the flight. It made her look like a kid again, but Jane was finally realizing that she wasn't. “He loves you and he's a good man. It wasn't his fault that that happened, and he must have hated it too. The last thing he would want is for you to get hurt. It sounds like a nightmare for both of you.”