Here Without You

‘And then, let’s add the existence of a son with one of those rumoured other women. What will happen to her once that secret comes to light? What will people say? Of course I don’t want that for her. Why in the world would I?’

I’m shredded by the recognition of how right she is. Even if her daughter is the only person I’ve ever met who didn’t ultimately judge me by my reputation, but by what she saw in me – and God knows how she managed that. I have only one truth to stand on.

‘I. Love. Her.’

‘If that’s true,’ she answers evenly, ‘you’ll want what’s best for her. Not for yourself.’

Brooke’s words about Graham slam into me and I fall to my knees in the middle of the trailer. I feel like my heart is imploding. Every scrap of anger or righteous indignation evaporates. Every argument turns to ash. Because, of course, she’s right. If I love Dori, I’ll want what’s best for her. And only Dori can know what that is.

Brooke: I saw the judge this morning. The case is being accelerated. We’re getting an overnight. First, here, tomorrow night. (If you come to Austin, Kathryn says you can stay here. A hotel would blow our cover.) If that goes well, each of us will get him in LA for a few days. His caseworker will travel with him.

Me: DAMMIT. I can’t get away right now. I am LITERALLY in the middle of the desert. They had to set up a special tower just so we could all get cell service. If I could leave this set, I’d be in CA. Call me in a couple of hours? I’ve got a scene to shoot.

Brooke: K

Two hours later on the dot, my phone rings. Brooke.

‘Hey. So he’s going to stay at Kathryn’s with you overnight? Will the fact that I’m not there be a problem?’

‘No,’ she answers. ‘I explained that I’m not working right now, but you are, and that if we get him, we intend to trade off projects. That one of us will always be with him.’ Brooke always did think fast on her feet. ‘Reid?’ A new hesitation creeps into her voice. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘About River? Yeah. I’m sure.’ I don’t have to ask if she is.

She releases an audible breath at my answer – as though she’s still expecting me to back out any minute. It’s so difficult for her to count on anyone. To trust when someone says they’ll be there for her. With our history, it’s a damned miracle for her to have confidence in anything I promise. I can’t blame her for asking.

‘Wendy is having surgery two weeks from Monday, so that’s when the overnights in LA will take place. One of the little boys she’s been keeping will be moving to a new foster home, and the other is moving towards a family reunification that might be too early. She couldn’t say much about either one, but it sounded like she was freaking out over both of them. I think we’ve suddenly become the best-case scenario.’

That seems like a wrong sort of thing to feel fortunate about, but I’m a dick, so I’ll take it. ‘Yay for other people f**king up?’

She laughs shortly. ‘I guess. Will you be back in LA by then?’

‘Yeah. We’re wrapping up here in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Probably fourteen, fifteen days left, and we’ll be doing the studio sections next, at Universal. I should be back in town right before he arrives.’

‘And you’ll have the home study and parenting course stuff by then?’ she presses.

I roll my eyes, but tell myself she’s just making sure of essential details. No need to snap back. I set my jaw. ‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ She takes a deep breath and launches into part two of this call. ‘I think it’s time to call Rowena.’ I curse and start to object – again – but she barrels on. ‘I know you have a preconceived perception of her after last spring – but, Reid, she’s our best shot at maintaining any control over how this news breaks. The public will want photos of our child. You know they will.’

She’s right – River is going to be top photo-stalker material. The only way to neutralize that is to provide the pics ourselves. With a jolt of comprehension, I realize I’ve got to trust her. And this Rowena person. Ugh. My opposition dissolves unsaid.

‘What did you mean before, when you said you’d be in California now if you could?’ she asks, undoubtedly to change the subject before I can build a case against her sycophantic paparazza.

‘Dori. She stopped talking to me about a week ago.’

‘A week? What happened?’

‘I have no idea. That’s a major component of the “stopped talking to me” bit.’

‘Don’t be an asshat. Did you two have a fight? Did you do something stupid like screw some girl who took photos of your naked backside and leaked it online?’

I would take exception if that exact thing hadn’t transpired a couple of years ago.

‘No fight. No girls. The photos of you and me in Austin are all over, of course, though she hasn’t said a thing about them. But she knows about River. I guess she just decided she couldn’t deal.’

‘That sucks. She should know not to pay attention to the crap online … although it’s occasionally true. If she can’t handle it, though, maybe you’re better off without her.’

I couldn’t have asked for a better time to film a withdrawn, brooding character. My Darcy role was a bit brooding, but he was mostly sarcastic and arrogant.

With the amount of time I spend alone – either in my trailer or walking at a barely visible distance from the huddle of trailers and sets, I think my co-stars have decided I’m one of those method actors who insists on remaining in character on and off-screen. I’ve caught insinuations that indicate as much, but I’ve no need to artificially immerse myself in the moody temperament of my current character.