“He’s just staying for a few days. I think he thinks our simple life out here is a cure for his exciting life.”
“Is he as hot in person?” Kiki wants to know. “Like does he look at you that way while you’re buttering toast?”
“The smolder? No.” I laugh. “That’s just for the camera. He looks at me like I’m some suburban mom who maybe needs a makeover.” Even as I say this, I know it’s not true. He looks at me with an amused curiosity most of the time. He watches me when he thinks I’m engrossed with something else. It’s been nearly a week since I was actually engrossed with something else.
Bernadette and I enter the house to the sound of the two of them singing “You’ve Got to Pick a Pocket or Two,” standing on opposite ends of the couch. Leo yells “Bravo!” and Arthur bows.
“Mom! I did the whole thing. No script!” Arthur runs over to hug me. I smile at Leo over his head.
“That’s awesome. You’re totally ready.”
Leo gets down from the couch and is all business. “Now the trick here is to stop practicing. You’ve got it and now you need to let it rest. Tonight you do whatever, eat your Tuesday food, do your homework.” His eyes widen as he reaches for a bottle of wine. “I know. Tonight let’s watch one of your mom’s happy movies!”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “They’re seriously dumb.”
“I love them,” offers Bernadette.
I appreciate the solidarity. “They are pretty dumb, but I love them too,” I say. “Let’s watch Valentine Reunion.”
“Let me guess. High-powered female executive returns to her hometown and runs into her high school boyfriend.”
“She’s a professional pastry chef. But yes.” We’re all laughing, and Leo’s handing me a glass of the most delicious wine ever.
* * *
? ? ?
Leo’s up for the sunrise before I am. He’s left a mug out for my coffee.
“Hey,” he says.
“Thanks.” I settle in next to him and take my mug. “So, this is your last Laurel Ridge sunrise.”
“No. This is day six, which includes night six, which includes the sunrise tomorrow. What time’s checkout?”
“We’re pretty relaxed about that here.” He looks at me with something that resembles gratitude, and I wonder if this time has done him any good.
“Are you glad you stayed? I mean, do you feel any better?”
“I feel pretty good. I was just thinking how much I miss being a part of a family. Like when I was growing up, we were this unit, and there was so much give-and-take. My brother, Luke, and I had to share food and space and attention. Now I barely see him, and my life’s all about me. It’s exhausting.”
“Must be nice,” I say out loud by mistake.
He gives me a nudge. “I know I sound like an asshole, but look at your life. You live for your kids, and they live for you. There’s something almost sacred about what you have. In my life, I live for my career, and all the people around me are paid to live for my career. I swear last Thanksgiving I looked around my table and realized everyone there was on my payroll.”
“Come on. You must have had some kind of normal relationship. Like with a woman who liked you and laughed at your lame jokes.”
“Sure, tons. But the thing is they all liked me before they met me, like they fell in love with something they saw in People magazine. When my mom died, I thought: I just lost the last woman in the world who knew me. Of course, I don’t bother getting to know them either.”
“I met Ben so young that I never got to have that kind of quick meaningless relationship. Though I guess I had a long meaningless relationship instead.” We both laugh at this, like Ben’s an inside joke.
“This morning I woke up worried about Arthur. It was the strangest feeling to want something so much for someone else. You’re really lucky.”
I want to tell him he’s welcome to stay, that maybe another week or two of this is just what he needs. But I know I’m on a slippery slope, because he’s brought something with him, and he’s going to take it when he leaves.
* * *
? ? ?
He leaves me alone all day, so that I have the tea house to myself from ten to two. My pencils are in position, and I haven’t built a fire because it’s warm outside. I listen to the birds through the open back windows. I sneak peeks through the front door to see if he’s coming to see me.
I write garbage, more garbage-y than usual. Icky romantic scenes with long kisses and an otherwise sensible woman pouring her heart out. There’s a marriage proposal at sunrise in the mountains, and well, I have officially lost my mind.