The Chesapeake Diaries Series (40 page)

The video began abruptly—“What, no music?”—and while the lighting could have been better, there was no question who was the filling in the middle of that fleshy sandwich. As difficult as it was to watch, she forced herself to sit through it, commenting to herself from time to time (“Emilio, Emilio, didn’t anyone ever tell you to always keep your best side to the camera? And, babe, that is decidedly
not
your best side.”).

When the phone rang before it was over, Dallas turned off her computer and answered the call.

“Hey, Dallas, it’s Norma.”

“Thanks for getting back to me right away.” Dallas leaned back in her chair and exhaled. Just hearing her attorney’s always cool and even voice relaxed her.

“I just got in and I was going to call you as soon as I kicked off my shoes.” Norma Bradshaw was not only Dallas’s lawyer, she was also her friend.

“So you heard …”

“Is there anyone in this town who has not? So sorry, Dallas. We knew he was a colossal shithead, but this latest stunt even beats his own personal best.” Before Dallas could respond, Norma said, “So we’re going to want to see if we can move the divorce along a little faster. We’ll file a motion to revise those custody arrangements we’d previously agreed to.”

“You read my mind.”

“I’ll file first thing in the morning. If nothing else, I think we should ask for sole custody for a period of at least six months, given the circumstances, which of
course we’ll spell out for the judge in very specific terms.”

“Would it help to know that that little forty-two-minute production was filmed in his house? The same one Cody and I moved out of just eleven months ago because he refused to leave?”

“Really?” Norma made a “huh” sound. “Are you positive?”

“I picked out that furniture,” Dallas replied. “Along with the carpets and the tile in the bath and the towels that were dropped around the hot tub.”

“That was really stupid on his part. Now you can say you don’t want Emilio to have unsupervised custody because you don’t know who will be in the house or what they’ll be doing. Or who might be filming it.” Norma paused. “How are you doing?”

“On the one hand, I feel devastated. Humiliated. Nauseated. On the other, I feel like calling every reporter who chastised me for being so mean and unforgiving to poor Emilio when our separation was announced and yelling,
‘See? I told you he was a jerk!’
 ”

“Anyone you want me to call for you?”

“No. I’m not making any statements to anyone. This is strictly a no-comment situation if ever there was one.”

“You know you can always refer people to me.”

“I’ll have Elena start doing that tomorrow. Thanks.”

“How did Cody react?”

“He hasn’t. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Of course not. Why would I tell him about something like that?”

“Do you really think you can keep him from finding out? Isn’t he in camp this summer?”

“He just turned six. He’s only in kindergarten.” Dallas frowned. “How many of the kids at his camp do you think caught Emilio’s act?”

“They could hear their parents talking, they could see the story on TV. It made the news, Dallas.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.” Dallas bit a fingernail. “At least, I hope it won’t be. But if he hears about it, I’ll have to tell him … something.”

“Well, good luck with that. In the meantime, if you think of anything else I can do for you, you know how to reach me.” Norma’s calls always ended the same way, with the same closing sentence. She never bothered to wait until Dallas said good-bye. She just hung up, leaving Dallas to wonder just what she would tell Cody if he should hear something.

She didn’t have long to wait to find out. When she arrived at camp the following afternoon, the Cody who got into the car was a very different child from the one she’d dropped off earlier that morning.

“How was camp, buddy?” she asked when he got into the car.

He looked out the window and muttered something.

“What did you say?” She turned in her seat to face him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, how
was
camp? Did you have your riding lesson today?”

He shook his head but did not look at her.

Uh-oh
, she thought as she drove from the curb.
This doesn’t bode well …

“So what did you do today?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Why not, baby?”

“Because I don’t and I’m not a baby,” he yelled. He still hadn’t looked at her.

Oh, God
. Her hands began to shake and she clutched the wheel in an effort to make them stop.

She did not try to engage him in conversation the rest of the way home, and once they arrived, she drove in through the service entrance at the back of the property to avoid the crowd that was still stalking the front gate.

“Those cars out there, they’re all there because …” Cody said accusingly. “Because …”

It was then that Dallas realized he was crying. She stopped the car and turned off the ignition, then got out and opened his door. She unbuckled his seat belt but he made no move toward her.

“Cody, what happened today?” When he didn’t respond, she asked, “Does it have something to do with your dad?”

“They said he did things … with other ladies. Justin’s big brother said his dad saw it on the computer and he heard his dad tell his mom.” Huge, fat drops ran down Cody’s face and Dallas’s heart began to break in half. “Justin’s daddy said my daddy was a very, very bad man. The big kids said he … they said he …” He began to sob.

Dallas had never felt so helpless in her life. She got into the backseat and rubbed Cody’s shoulders, then
coaxed him into her arms. How could she have been so naive as to think he wouldn’t hear something from the older kids at camp? And how could she possibly explain his father’s actions to her son?

“I’m never going back to camp, Mommy. Not ever. Nobody can make me.” He hiccuped loudly. “Not even you. I’ll run away if you try.”

“All right, sweetie.” Silently cursing Emilio for his stupidity and his carelessness, Dallas held her son tight, and let him cry it out. “It’s going to be all right …”

But even as she promised, Dallas wondered if, for Cody, anything would ever be right again.

Chapter 2

Dallas sat in the leather seat of the private jet and pulled off the dark wig that had kept her signature platinum hair under wraps. She tossed her dark glasses onto the seat across the aisle and looked to the cabin where her friend, Jessie Krane, stood conversing with the pilot and Cody. Moments later, Jessie strolled down the narrow aisle. A former child star, now in her fifties, Jessie was still one of the industry’s most recognizable faces. Dallas often said she could only hope that her career and her popularity would last as long as Jessie’s had.

“They’ll take you to BWI,” Jessie told Dallas. “From there, you’ll have to find your way home on your own.”

“I know the way.” Dallas tried to smile, but her bottom lip was trembling. “Jess, I don’t know how I can thank you enough for what you’re doing for me. Loaning me your plane—”

“I’m not going anywhere for a while, so at least the pilots are getting a day out of it. For which you’re paying their premium rates plus the fuel, I might remind you.”

“Still, not everyone would offer.”

“Everyone doesn’t know what you’re going through like I do,” Jessie said. “And everyone doesn’t love you like I do.”

“You’re a great friend,” Dallas told her.

“I’m merely repaying a very small part of what I owe.” Jessie sat on the edge of a seat facing Dallas. “Last year, when Peter left me for that trashy little bimbo and she started giving interviews right and left, talking about how my drinking caused my daughter to turn to drugs—”

“Jess, no one who knows you believed any of that. Even Courtney doesn’t blame you for her problems.”

“There were a lot of people who
don’t
know me who
did
believe it, who did blame me. And there were plenty of others who reveled in the sideshow.” Jessie swallowed hard. “You were the only one who spoke out, the only one who went on the talk shows and spoke with reporters about what a lie that was—”

“I wasn’t the only one.”

“You were the first, the most visible. The most vocal. My custody of Courtney could have been reversed. I have my daughter because of you.”

“Not because of me. Because you’re a good mother.” Dallas added, “A great mother. And a great friend.”

“I know what I know. And I know that your testimony influenced the judge. I only wish I could do more for you right now.”

“Are you kidding? You’re giving us a way out of L.A. that lets us leave anonymously. The thought of having to walk Cody through the airport and stand in those lines where anyone could say anything that he
could overhear, where reporters could harass us …” Dallas shivered. “I couldn’t face it, Jess. I couldn’t bear to have Cody walk that gauntlet. Thanks to you, we didn’t have to.”

“Sweetie, I know what it’s like to be harassed, to have my kids harassed. I know how tough these last few days have been for you.”

“Tougher for Cody. He’s too young to have to deal with this kind of nonsense.”

“I’m sure some time away will be good for him. For both of you.” Jessie looked critically at Dallas. “Any thoughts on how long you might be gone?”

Dallas shook her head. “I’m not thinking that far ahead. We’ll have to see how things go and how long it takes for this thing to die a natural death. I have no work lined up until late fall, and Cody’s school doesn’t resume until the second week in September, so we have time.”

“What will you do with yourself until then?”

“Relax. Spend time with Cody and my great-aunt.” Dallas smiled wryly. “Maybe even work on that screenplay I’ve been thinking about writing for the past three years, if we stay long enough.”

“Well, from what you’ve told me, there won’t be much else to do in that little town of yours.”

Dallas laughed. “Berry says it’s changed a lot in just the few years since I last visited, so we’ll see.”

Jessie leaned over and tilted Dallas’s face into the sunlight.

“When was the last time you slept?” she asked. “You could hide a family of four in the bags under your eyes.”

“Oh, thanks for that.”

“Merely observing.”

“Another reason to be grateful for the private plane.”

“So how long has it been since you slept?” Jess repeated.

“I’ve had a lot of details to attend to these past few days. A lot of packing to do …”

“With any luck, you’ll sleep from coast to coast.” Jessie stood. “I see the copilot has arrived. That’s all we’ve been waiting for. They’ll be taking off now.”

She leaned over and kissed Dallas on the forehead.

“You’ll let me know what else I can do for you, and you’ll call me when you’re ready to come back and I’ll send them”—she nodded in the direction of the cabin—“back for you. Easy out, easy back in.”

“You’re the best, Jess.” Dallas rose and hugged her friend.

“Don’t I know it?” Jessie smiled and called to Cody, who was lingering in the cabin doorway talking to the pilot. “Come give your aunt Jess a hug, Cody. You’ll be taking off any minute now, so you need to find a seat.”

“Aren’t you coming, too?” Cody made his way down the aisle and hugged the woman around the waist.

“Goodness, no. I have things to do.” Jessie steered him to a seat and helped him strap in.

“What kind of things?” Cody asked.

“All kinds of very important things. Meetings. Lunch. Take the dogs to the groomers. Get my nails done.” She ruffled his hair, then went to the front of the plane and tapped on the open door. “Your passengers
are ready whenever you are. I’m getting ready to leave, so come lock up after me.”

The copilot followed her to the door, where Jessie turned and blew a kiss.

“Keep in touch. Eat lots of those Chesapeake blues for me,” she added before disappearing down the steps.

“What are Chesapeake blues?” Cody asked his mother.

“Crabs that come from the Chesapeake Bay,” she told him. “They’re very famous, because they’re very delicious.”

“Will Aunt Berry have some of those?”

“I’m certain of it. Especially this time of the year. The crabs are big and especially sweet by the middle of the summer. Maybe we’ll even catch our own. Remember I told you how the river runs right past the back of Aunt Berry’s property?”

Cody nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t really remember being there, though. I only remember the pictures.”

“You were only three the last time we visited, and we didn’t stay very long that time. Maybe some things will come back to you when we get to St. Dennis.”

“How do things come back to you?” He leaned his chair back and rested his head. To Dallas, he looked so small, and so sleepy, and so uncertain.

“Well, sometimes you remember things that you don’t even realize you remember.” Dallas leaned her chair back, too, and nodded to the pilot, who appeared in the doorway to see if they were ready to take off. He disappeared back into the cabin, closing the door behind him. “Sometimes your mind will
connect one thing to something else that you know.” She thought for a moment. “Remember when we went to see the ice-skating show last winter? The skaters all skated to music. Then a few weeks ago, in the car—”

“—we heard that song and I said, ‘Hey, they were playing this song when the guy who was dressed like a pirate skated at the show!’ ” Cody sat up, excited at the memory. “You mean, like that?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Dallas smiled. “You heard the song, and you remembered the pirate skater. We say, ‘the song came back to you.’ ”

“The song came back to me,” he said softly, as if trying on the phrase for size.

The engines on, the plane began to taxi slowly to take its place in line on the runway.

“Mommy, what will we do at Aunt Berry’s besides catch crabs and eat them?” he asked a moment later.

“Well, we’ll probably go out onto the Bay in boats and maybe swim in the river.” Dallas paused, wondering if the recent efforts to clean up the New River had been successful. There had been a time, in her youth, when the water in both the Bay and the river had been too polluted for swimming. “And we’ll go to the park, and we’ll see whatever there is to see in St. Dennis since the last time we were there. Aunt Berry tells me there are lots of new shops and several new restaurants, even a new park. Oh, and she said there’s an ice-cream place down near the docks now.”