He took a bolstering drink and then reached for her hand. “We’ve been over this, Muriel. If you feel strongly about doing the film, I’m behind you. If you have worries, I don’t want one of them to be me.”
She smiled a small smile. “I have to leave tomorrow to begin rehearsing.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked, shocked. “My God! Should you be packing?”
She shook her head. “No need. I just have to get together my cosmetics. I can take the dogs with me—I had them put it in my contract that I’ll have help with pet care. They’ll send someone to stay in the guesthouse and take care of the horses. And—”
“Why don’t you need clothes?” he asked.
“I have a place in Los Angeles. A small but very nice condo. I left behind a full closet—those clothes wouldn’t work for me here and the clothes I wear around here won’t work for me there. I figured in a year or so I’d empty the place out and either rent or sell it, but now it’ll come in handy. I’ve let a couple of friends use the place for visiting relatives, so it hasn’t gone to waste.”
“You never even mentioned it,” he said, and for a moment he was grateful for that. If he’d thought all along that she still had another home, he might not have been so optimistic about their chances.
“Really, I didn’t think I’d ever use it unless I was in L.A. visiting or something…”
“Muriel, are the dogs going to be a problem while you’re making this movie?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll have some long hours, but the studio will make sure there’s someone assigned to walking them, feeding them, all that. I just won’t get to run Luce or train Buff like I’d planned to.”
“Let me keep them for you. Let me take care of the horses.”
“Walt, I can’t ask you to—”
“You didn’t ask, Muriel. Really, it’s selfish. I don’t want to think of someone else living in that bunkhouse or the dogs pooping on concrete somewhere when I can run them along the river. Besides a little babysitting, what do I have to do? Shelby’s gone, Vanni and Paul have their own place, I take care of horses every day anyway…”
“It’s a lot of bother, Walt.”
“I offered. No strings,” he added. “I didn’t offer so that you’d feel obligated to me in any way. I mean, who knows? Jack Whatshisname might turn out to be just what you’ve always dreamt of.”
“You jealous of him already?” she asked.
“You’re goddamn right,” he said, leaning back in his chair, drawing those fierce eyebrows together. “He’s going to spend the next six months with you and I’m not.”
“Well, he doesn’t stand a chance,” she said softly.
He thought, this must be how Peg felt when he was leaving for a long remote tour, as though there was a chance he wouldn’t come back to her. “I’ve been down this road,” he told Muriel. “Separations for work. It’s not easy, but it’s highly survivable. Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“That would be nice. It’s just to Garberville.”
“Picking up a charter?” he asked.
She shook her head. “They’re sending a jet.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I haven’t been down that road,” he said, shaking his head. “You want meat loaf? Or do you want to go upstairs, let me peel your clothes off and tell you goodbye properly?”
She grinned at him. “Let’s think about meat loaf for breakfast.”
“Good idea,” he said, standing. He reached for her hand. “Come on, honey. This is my last chance to pamper you before your Oscar. What time does your flight leave?”
“When I get there.”
The next morning, Walt drove her to the Garberville airport where there was a Lear waiting. The pilot and cabin steward, nicely uniformed, were waiting at the bottom of the airstairs and they fussed over her very impressively. She had only one small bag and traveled in her jeans and boots, leather jacket and cowboy hat. She kept them waiting while she gave Walt a long, deep kiss goodbye. “If there’s a break in the filming, I’ll be up for a visit. And I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Muriel, stop being reluctant and sad. You want this and I want it for you. You’re good, that’s why you’re getting this chance. Knock ’em dead. And if Jack Whatshisname makes a play for you, tell him to fuck off. You have a boyfriend already.”