by Robyn Carr
Leslie was shaking her head. “He doesn’t seem like that kind of guy…”
“But he is, that’s the fact. He’s never going to be a regular guy who does ordinary work—he’s always going to be that guy that everyone wants, the guy with one foot out the door. And surrounded by a lot of irresistible women, I’m sure.”
Leslie straightened and leaned toward Katie. “Your feelings are hurt,” she said. “I don’t blame you, but I think you’re dreaming up roadblocks instead of bridges.”
“He told me he didn’t know when he’d see me again. And that I was the best time he’d ever had.”
“Well, that was dumb of him. I think he missed his cue to say he loved you.”
“Because that’s not in the script, Les.”
“I don’t usually do this, but… Call him, Katie. Call him and ask him how he is—tell him you miss him.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because right now my heart hurts. If I call him and he doesn’t answer or return the call, my heart will be in tiny pieces.” She shook her head. “I’m so naive—I didn’t think after just a few weeks, I’d be in this kind of shape.” Then with glistening eyes she said, “Please don’t tell Conner. Dylan didn’t do anything wrong—it’s not his fault I let myself fall in love. He told me he was only staying a little while, waiting to hear about a potential job in L.A.—I knew that from the start. Honestly, I sent him away. He’s not the kind of man to put down roots.”
“He had roots in Montana… I’m just saying, maybe he didn’t really want to be sent away.”
“If he didn’t, I’ll hear from him,” Katie said. “But I haven’t yet. Not even a call to say he arrived safely.”
Katie didn’t like how much she thought about her time with Dylan, but she was determined to move forward. On Wednesday after summer program, she took the boys to McDonald’s. She told herself it was just a treat for them, not a walk into the past for her. But when they wanted to go to the bathroom and she said she’d take them, Andy said, “If Dylan was here, we could go in the boys’!” And she almost burst into tears.
Man, she’d really been living in a fantasy land. She had briefly thought both their lives were about to change based on a chance meeting. What a little girl she’d been!
One thing she could hold close to her heart—he had been very good to her. Generous, tender, funny and considerate. He didn’t act like the kind of guy who was using someone for sex, not that she had any experience with that. And when she could stop feeling sorry for herself long enough to be honest with herself, she had to admit, he never misled her. Never. She was determined to be a grown-up about this. It was brief, it was awesome, it was over.
And after that trip to McDonald’s, the boys stopped asking when he would call or come back.
The following weekend brought the Fourth of July and a town picnic, an event she hoped would help take her mind off Dylan. She met even more neighbors, got to know quite a few of the young mothers who took their kids to the summer program and relaxed in the shade of a big tree while her kids ran around with their new friends. But she couldn’t help wondering how Dylan was spending the holiday.
A couple of days later she drove to the grocery store while the boys were in school. She loaded up on basics—milk, cereal, bread and eggs. Standing in the magazine aisle, she glanced at the gossip rags. And there, looking back at her, was Dylan Childress, those bedroom eyes and sexy smile grasping at her. On one paper there was a headline that read Guess Who’s Back in Town? The next had a picture of him laughing, holding a drink, his arm about the shoulders of an older man described as his producer. Apparently there would be a movie after all. And the third front page picture was Dylan pressing his lips into the neck of a beautiful blonde, an actress who had briefly played his girlfriend in the old sitcom, Rough Housing, when they were both about fourteen. The caption was Old Flames Reunited?
Well. He’d moved on. She had been having trouble up to that very moment, but the sight of those pictures provided a terrific kick in the ass.
She left her grocery cart standing abandoned in the aisle and bought all three papers. So…he managed to slip back into his former lifestyle with ease. He’d gone to Hollywood to make a movie, to party, to hook up.
No wonder he hadn’t called. He’d been quite busy.
Eleven
After reading a script and having a few meetings with Jay and Sean about potential costars, Dylan put the contract negotiations in the capable hands of his grandmother’s current agent, Lee Drake. From this point on his conversations with Jay or Sean would not involve details of the terms of the contract.
They did have conversations about the script, about rewrites and wholesale changes to the story, other actors being considered. Although the agents were still talking, Dylan was aware of a ridiculous amount of money for his role as a badass biker dude who ends up being the good guy. “That’s my favorite part,” he told Adele. “I’ve been trying to end up the good guy for a long time now.”
“I don’t think you see yourself clearly,” she replied. “Not in terms of the script, but in life.”
It should not have surprised him that he continued to show missed calls on his phone log from Cherise, Bryce and Blaine after a week of ignoring them. He was nearly to the point of returning at least one of those calls if only to make the point that he was not taking their calls. But that choice was taken away from him while he was standing at the Starbucks counter waiting for his coffee.
“Dylan?”
Even though it had been many years, he recognized his stepsister’s voice. He turned and said, “Hello, Blaine. What a coincidence, running into you here.”
She shook her head and her pretty blond hair swished over her shoulders. “It’s not a coincidence. I’ve been looking for you.”
He figured as much. She must have followed him. But from where? He hadn’t been going to Jay’s office since that first day. They’d met in restaurants, lobbies, Jay’s or Sean’s homes, various venues not advertised or even recorded in appointment books or on BlackBerries.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked.
She was a beautiful woman and he remembered when he was just a boy that he had a terrific crush on her. She was his third stepfather’s daughter and spent lots of time at his home. Thank God she’d never given him the time of day; he’d been far too young to know how complicated she was. Now, at about forty, she was still stunning, difficult to comprehend given the problems she’d had since her teen years—prescription drug issues, some alcohol abuse, a few stints in rehab. He’d lost track of her marriages, or maybe he’d ignored them.
“Let’s get this over with. Can I buy you a coffee?” he offered.
“Skinny latte,” she answered.
When he handed her the latte, she tilted her head and said, “Patio?”
“After you.”
She led the way outside and sitting on the far side of the patio at a table, under the protection of an umbrella, was Bryce. Of course.
Bryce, only thirty-two, wasn’t holding up nearly as well. He looked bloated and bleary-eyed and Dylan was having trouble even remembering what his issues were. And in a flash of pity he recalled that Bryce had been only twelve when Adele took Dylan away. Blaine had been twenty and had already had many acting jobs, including a brief guest appearance on Dylan’s sitcom. But ages aside, these two and a few others from his family had been left to the dysfunction of Cherise and her ex-husbands, not to mention the instability of their peer group. They probably had no idea what a functional family looked like.
Dylan had a moment of feeling like the most emotionally stable member of the family and that was a first. He usually felt impossibly screwed up.
Bryce stood from the table and, with hands in his pockets, gave a solemn nod, eyes at half mast. And Dylan remembered—depression was his half brother’s shtick. Medication might account for his dazed appearance. “Sit down, Bryce. Take a load off,” he said, gesturi
ng with his cup. “All right, you two. What’s this about?”
“We heard you were back for a movie,” Blaine said. “Good luck with that. We have an idea.”
“First of all—how’d you know I was here? And how’d you get my number?”
“Someone saw your name and number on an appointment book and copied it. It happens all the time, you know that.”
He shook his head in wry amusement. “I’ve been away a long time. Why don’t we cut to the chase here—save us all some time. What are you looking for?”
“Like I said, an idea,” she repeated. Bryce merely nodded. “A reality show—a reunion of the Childress family. We could bring the family together, the ones who are available, and get some of our relationship issues resolved. Big Brother meets Kate Plus 8. Brothers and sisters reuniting.”
It took great effort to keep his mouth from dropping open. “Get outta here!” he said, astonished.
“Mom would produce.”
Dylan leaned toward Blaine. “First of all, Cherise isn’t your mom, second, I’m the only Childress besides Adele and third, if you think I’d even consider trying to resolve our relationship issues at all, much less on camera, your last link to reality has slipped.” He leaned back. “Besides, I already ran into Cherise. She wanted me to get her a part in a movie, which by the way hasn’t been signed yet.”
Bryce and Blaine exchanged surprised looks. “You saw her?” Blaine asked.
“I did. I told her the same thing I’m telling you—this isn’t going to happen. If by some miracle you managed to convince anyone on this movie to put either of you on the roster, that would be my cue to move on. And no—I would never air our dirty laundry in public. God, what a thought.”
“Dylan, she didn’t say she’d talked to you,” Blaine said.
“She said you’re not in touch,” Dylan pointed out.
“It was her idea,” Bryce said.
Dylan looked at Bryce. “Oh, you do speak?” he asked.
And Bryce nodded. “Mom came up with this. I didn’t like it too much, but—”
“It would be therapeutic,” Blaine said. “Honesty and accountability and amends. It could help people. We could get a really good therapist on the show.”
Dylan was surprised he didn’t run screaming from Starbucks. He was almost sympathetic. Obviously Cherise was going to try to stack the deck by getting herself a part in Dylan’s film first, then push for the reality show. What a circus.
“Listen, you two. Don’t let people capitalize on your problems like this. Work on your own stuff. In private. Get healthy and strong. Get on solid ground. Have that therapist make a house call or two. You don’t have to show the world how vulnerable you are.”
“Will you think about it?” Blaine asked.
He stood slowly. “Sorry, but no. I wouldn’t even consider it. In fact, in the twenty years I’ve been away, I’ve probably gotten too private to even do a movie, but—” He just gave his head a little shake. “I have my reasons that have nothing to do with anyone in the family, so let’s retire the whole idea. Please don’t ask me again.” He locked eyes first with Blaine and then Bryce. “Seriously. Give it up. I hope you both do well, I really do. But we’re not going to work together. Not ever.”
In a way he was glad the surprise meeting with his half brother and stepsister had happened. He went directly to his hotel and checked out. He’d move in with Adele; she had more than enough room and the gated neighborhood had excellent security. When he phoned her to tell her he was coming, she was elated. He would explain why later. Then he went to the phone store and bought a new, upgraded phone. They put his memory card in the new phone and changed his number. First he called Lang to be sure his best friend and the company could reach him.
And then he called Katie, so glad to have an excuse. “Katie, how are you?”
“Dylan?”
“It’s me.”
“Well, I’m fine, but what about you? Are you all right?” she asked.
“Fine, but my cell number got out and I started getting unwelcome calls. I changed numbers and wanted to be sure you had the new one in case…in case you wanted to call.”
“I don’t want to bother you—aren’t you making a movie?” she asked.
“I’m still talking about the specifics. These things don’t usually happen fast. It’s so weird to be here—so different and yet so much the same,” he said. He wished he had explained in detail about his family, but that would take such a long time and it couldn’t be done now over the phone. She might find it all difficult to believe. “It looks like it should work out. Are you all right? Really?”
“Sure. Of course. We…ah…went to the town Fourth of July picnic. The boys went fishing one Sunday with Conner. I guess that’s all I can report.”
“What about the bear, Katie? Any problems?”
“I guess she didn’t like Jack’s horn—we haven’t seen her.”
“But do you peek outside before you go out?”
She laughed and made him want her so much. “You bet I do.”
“And the boys? Are they having fun?”
She hesitated before she answered. “If there’s one thing they know, it’s how to have fun!”
He wanted to ask her if she missed him. He was afraid of the answer, so he said instead, “I miss you.”
“Aw, that’s so nice, Dylan. I bet you’re very busy. I bet you’re running into lots of old friends.”
“A few,” he admitted, though he wanted to tell her it was more old enemies. “I’d rather be anywhere else…”
“Was it the right decision? Going to L.A. to make a movie?”
“I won’t know until everyone agrees and there’s a contract. You know why I’m doing this.”
“You must be grateful that you can,” she stressed.
“Will you tell the boys I called and said to tell them ‘hi’?”
Again there was a pause. “Listen, I know you’ll understand this, or will at least try, but they don’t know about movies and aviation companies and all that and…I don’t want them to fix their hopes on you, Dylan. They’re just little boys. They aren’t going to get it the way I do—that you don’t know when you’ll see us again. Or if…”
“Can you believe this, Katie—that I want to see you again?”
Very quietly she said, “I can, but they might not. They’re very impatient. They have trouble waiting for things like Christmas and birthdays. When you get down to it, I have trouble with that, too. Waiting. Wondering if it’ll ever come.” Then there was a moment of quiet before she said, “But you enjoy yourself—I’m sure all your fans will be so glad to have you back! Listen, I hate to cut this off, but—”
“Katie, write down this number, in case you want to tell me something.” Then he reeled it off. “Call me if you want to talk. Anytime.”
“What if I interrupt something important?” she asked.
“Then I’ll call you back. But don’t worry about that, just call if you want to.”
“All right, then. I’m glad you called. I’d better—”
“I miss you, Katie,” he said again.
In the quiet that followed, he wondered if she was thinking about what to say next. But…
“Be safe, Dylan,” she said.
When they disconnected, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. She wouldn’t say it; she was afraid to say it. He could hardly blame her. Why would she pour more emotion into a situation that had no clear resolution?
He would think about that. Where he was going. And with whom.
Katie looked at the number she’d scribbled down. She could hear his voice in her head. I miss you, Katie. She lifted the folded tabloids from the kitchen counter and opened the one with Dylan kissing some blonde’s neck.
“You’ll be fine,” she said. And then with sarcasm she thought, Be brave.
Conner couldn’t count the number of days he felt grateful for finding Leslie. Their lives had converged at probably the most challe
nging of times for both of them—he was in hiding and she was escaping from a painful divorce. Yet now, just a few months later, they were living together in this little town, at peace in their relationship, their complicated lives settled. He even had his sister and nephews close by, which gave him no small amount of comfort.
But all wasn’t cheery. Katie had grown quiet and distant. Well, he supposed that was to be expected—she’d had a fling with a guy who was just passing through and, unsurprisingly, he actually passed through. He was gone and she was left lonely. Again.