Here Without You

The girl turns on her heel and shoots back to the table, where all six heads are conferring.

‘Fudge,’ I say.

By Wednesday evening, there’s an indistinct photo of Reid and Brooke Cameron outside a courthouse in downtown Austin on Tuesday morning. That’s when the speculation starts in earnest. The photos of them in the airport and on the plane – each reading something, not touching and not speaking to each other – all of a sudden look like a lovers’ spat.

That girl in San Francisco must be the cause of it, one site speculates. Brooke must have gone home to Texas, upset, and he followed her. But what are they doing at a courthouse?

Everyone has an opinion, and of course, neither of them can be reached for comment.

Reid: Why aren’t you answering my texts or calls?

REID

Every time I get a text, I think maybe it’s from Dori, but it’s not.

This morning, Mom texted photos of the renovations in my old room. She and Dad set up home study appointments, and we’ve all filled out questionnaires that are every bit as intrusive as Brooke warned me they’d be. Mom is somehow happy about River, which floors me but doesn’t seem to stun Dad, who says he knew it would go one of two ways.

He told her, she cried, and then she called to tell me she was proud of me.

She’s only said that to me once before – the day I beat up a kid at school who’d lifted a girl’s skirt in front of everyone in the playground and thought it was funny – until I busted his lip open. We both got suspended, though our exclusive private school had a zero tolerance for violence policy. Funny how zero tolerance turns into we’re-tolerating-it-just-this-once when affluent parents throw money at the problem.

That was ten years ago.

I just got a text from Emma, who I’ve only talked to twice since the Vancouver film festival last fall; getting a text from her is out of the blue.

Emma: Dad called to tell me I’d got a call from a caseworker in Texas, and I assumed it was about Brooke, but it was about YOU?

Me: Wow, that was fast.

Emma: ???

Me: We’re asking for joint custody.

Emma: Hold on. I must be hallucinating. I read that you two have been … seeing each other, which I thought could not be for real. But YOU and BROOKE – joint custody? Can you talk???

Me: Sure, I’ve got a few minutes.

‘I see you’ve been reading the gossip sites,’ I answer in place of hello, grabbing a bottle of water from the craft services trailer and moving away from the current scene being shot. I’m in full costume and make-up – including a couple of authentic-looking blades, one tucked into a holster on my belt and another in my boot, but I’ve got fifteen or twenty minutes until I’m up.

‘Reid, you know I’m not allowed to read those. Emily reads them. I’m shown links or given summarized news on a need-to-know basis only.’

‘Still? I guess now she’s protecting you from the legions of Graham-stalkers, eh?’ She growls and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Well, you can tell Emily that hearsay concerning Brooke’s and my rekindled relationship is baseless. I’m with Dori. Not that she’s talking to me.’

‘And the joint custody thing you just so casually mentioned?’

‘Yeah, that’s a thing. Not a thing that’s out yet – but it will be. Soon.’

She sighs. ‘Reid – you know that once that’s out, it’s going to underscore the perception that you and Brooke are together, and the media will push that angle full throttle. I don’t know your girlfriend, but if it was me, I’d be really bothered. You need to talk to her.’

‘I know that – but she’s not answering my calls or texts. Her parents hate me. I don’t actually know any of her friends. I’m going to try to make a quick trip to Berkeley on Saturday, but right now I’m stuck on location in the middle of a f**king canyon in f**king Utah …’ I release a snarl of complete frustration and stop just short of running my hand through my perfectly styled set hair. ‘And why am I talking to you about this?’

‘Because I’m nosy?’

I laugh and heave a sigh.

‘I know I’m not a regular girl compared to Dori – especially since I’ll be banking on my previous film career to help me land Broadway auditions. But I do know how it feels to watch my movie-star boyfriend be publicly salivated over by thousands of girls, to have him constantly rumoured to be hooking up with other people. It’s hard to take sometimes, even if I know it’s total rubbish. And I trust Graham more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.’

Her words are like a physical blow. ‘You think Dori doesn’t trust me?’

‘I didn’t say that. Maybe she’s feeling insecure? No one wants to admit to that. Insecurity makes you feel weak and powerless, and that’s no way to have a healthy relationship. I would know. I was never more miserable.’

‘But she’s not the insecure type. She’s like … the opposite of insecure. It definitely feels like she doesn’t trust me. But why should she? I f**ked up, not telling her about River. Just like I didn’t tell you.’

She sighs. ‘You know, I’ve told you before – what happened between you and Brooke, before me, wasn’t my business. I’d have got over the shock of that if it hadn’t been for, you know, the parade of girls right after.’

I shut my eyes. ‘Ugh, Emma …’

‘Never mind that – I’m long past it. Here’s the thing. Graham and I share past stuff – we talk about relevant personal history. But only stuff that impacts on our relationship. Neither of us needs to know or confess every single thing that happened before we met. Once you decided to become involved with River – that’s when it was time to tell her. And it sounds like you did. Eventually. Now she’s just got to work it out in her own head. Maybe she needs time. Maybe she doesn’t want to be in a stepmother position at her age. And if that’s the case … you’re going to have to make a choice between her and River.’