Torn (34 page)

Faye and Grace were ecstatic to see Tyler with their mother. They welcomed him back to Montana with gusto generally only used for special members of the family. As he held and squeezed each little girl in turn, his eyes found Chelsea’s, and she was surprised to see that they shimmered with suspicious moisture. Their presence gave credence to what Chelsea had always suspected; that Hollywood’s “Sexiest Man” was truly a “family man” at heart.

Tyler then took the entire family out to dinner and over Chinese, surprised them all by telling them that he would be buying a house in Montana, and would love it if Chelsea and the girls went with him on the hunt. He didn’t miss the look that Maria, Jake’s mother, gave to her husband, Michael, which told him that both of them saw how Chelsea flushed with joy. Faye and Grace immediately filled the brief moment of awkwardness with a million questions about his future house and, as he struggled to keep up with them, his gaze locked with Chelsea’s.

The look of love on her face seared him to the marrow of his bones, and his eyes darkened, telling Chelsea what he wanted to do with her once they were alone. Her lips parted in a tiny sigh and his body responded to the sound.

Forgetting Jake’s parents, forgetting the girls, Tyler’s point of focus narrowed to include only the woman he loved, and his hand clasped hers under the table.

Maria Morgan’s green eyes narrowed a fraction. “I see.” She looked from the actor to her daughter-in-law and, whatever she saw in Chelsea’s face as the younger woman continued to stare at Tyler made her stiffen. She replaced the napkin alongside her plate. “I see.”

She pushed her chair back and stood. “It’s getting late, and you… two… have a hard drive ahead in this snow. Perhaps you should leave before the Pass closes. Michael…”

Maria turned to her husband who was in the middle of his second bowl of chocolate ice cream. He looked up in surprise. “What? Is it time to go already?”

“Chelsea and her… friend… need to get a head start on the storm that’s blowing in.”

“Oh, right,” Michael quickly ate the last remaining bites of his ice cream, wiped his mouth on the napkin, and stood. “Thank you for dinner, Tyler.”

The air around Jake’s mother turned frigid and this time Tyler winced in sympathy for the other man. Clearly, Jake’s mom knew something was up with her daughter-in-law and the actor, and was reacting defensively on her son’s behalf.

Michael, on the other hand, was oblivious to the undercurrent of hostility his wife radiated; he’d enjoyed dinner, and had enjoyed Tyler’s company. Idly, Tyler wondered how he’d feel about him once his wife enlightened him.

Maria gave her grandchildren hugs and kisses, but the warmth was missing from her eyes when she did the same with her daughter-in-law. “Call me when you get in, and let the phone ring once so I know you made it home safe. You’re transporting precious cargo, you know.”

Chelsea smiled. “I know. And I will.” She waddled over to her father-in-law and gave him a strong hug and kissed his weather-roughened cheek. “Thank you for looking after the girls and the dogs for us.”

Michael laughed, returning the loving sentiment. “Any time.”

The Morgans left and Chelsea buttoned up Faye while Tyler bundled up Grace and paid the check, leaving a generous tip. Faye ran out to the car to give the dogs their snack of leftovers, while her mother and Tyler, who carried Grace, moved in a more leisurely pace across the small parking lot.

A small cluster of fans, who’d respectfully kept their distance while the family dined, hesitantly approached him with paper –– take-out menus from the restaurant –– and pens. One even had a camera. Chelsea buckled her daughters into their car seats as Tyler posed for pictures and charmed his fans by gossiping with them about his new movie. Finally she started the engine in the Suburban and Tyler graciously extradited himself from the rapidly growing crowd and hurried into the vehicle.

After he carefully drove around the retreating fans and joined the Eastbound traffic, Chelsea turned on the radio. Tyler barely noticed, his mind was on navigating through the snow-packed and icy streets.

“Thank god. Miles Davis. I’m telling you, Tyler, next to NPR, KGLT is the only station in Montana worth listening to. If only they’d have
Howard Stern
on in the mornings… I keep meaning to look into satellite radio…”

If anything could take Tyler’s attention from the semi in the passing lane beside them as he entered the interstate, it would be that. “
You
listen to
Howard Stern
?”

Chelsea laughed. “Every morning when I lived in New York. I can’t out here.”

While Tyler laughed, shaking his head in wonderment, Chelsea continued, “I always wanted to be a guest on his show. I used to tell myself that if I ever became famous, the only show I’d want to be interviewed on would be
Howard Stern
.”

“Not
Oprah
?”

With a snort, Chelsea shook her head. “I used to. Until that interview she did with you. All she could focus on was your looks and your love scenes in that movie you were promoting –– and I hate that movie, by the way –– and totally unimpressed me. I couldn’t believe it. She was worse than her audience! It was terrible.”

“Do you want to go on the
Howard Stern
show? ‘Cause I bet my agent could get us a spot.”

Chelsea blinked. “Are you crazy? Now that he’s on satellite, no way!”

“Really? You’d chicken out?”

“It’s not so much that, as that I wouldn’t do that to Jake. The questions Howard would ask… Jake doesn’t listen to the show, but who knows which of his friends and colleagues do? Black Creek is a small town. Don’t forget.”

“So are you sure about Oprah? She wouldn’t ask embarrassing questions.”

Tyler saw Chelsea roll her eyes from the corner of his own, and laughed softly. “Well, she wouldn’t.”

“Oh, sure. After that last interview she did with you, I wouldn’t bet on it. God, that movie was awful.” Chelsea shuddered, even as she leaned back against the leather seat, closed her eyes. Tyler grinned. It was always so funny when Chelsea behaved like a fan. His smile turned into laughter. A fan who apparently hated a lot of his movies.

“I don’t hate your movies, not all of them,” she said, and Tyler started, wondered if he’d spoken out loud. He took his eyes off the road for a second to look at Chelsea, whose eyes were still closed. “I just hate the ones that center on what you look like. It belittles your talent. Sure, you knocked me up in two seconds flat, but there’s more to you than being a stud, you know.”

Tyler’s shoulders shook, and Chelsea opened one eye to look at him. “Well, you are. You’re kind and funny, and you
get
me. And look how much Faye and Grace love you. Iya and Kemah love you too.” She opened her other eye, twisted in her seat to see if the girls were listening. Both of her daughters were too busy sawing logs to pay her the slightest mind. “I love you.”

Tyler’s heart clenched, and he too, checked on the sleeping girls using the rear view mirror before speaking. “I love you too, Chels.” He paused. “But your mother-in-law would love me served on a platter with an apple wedged between my jaws.”

To his consternation, Chelsea sighed and looked away from him, turning her gaze out her window. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Maria and I have always had an easy rapport.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “She knows me very well. She knows what I look like when I’m in love. And her sons are her Achilles’ heel. She’s angry because she loves her son, and she loves me. And she saw me looking at you…” she sighed again, and looked Tyler in the eye. “So for now, as far as Maria’s concerned, you are
persona non grata
.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t say anything.”

“I’m not. She wouldn’t. Not in front of the girls. But I’ll hear from her.” Chelsea laughed softly. “Poor Michael. He’s such a generous person. But I bet he’s hearing plenty right now.”

~*~

Without stopping to turn on a light, Tyler carried a sleeping Faye, then a sleeping Grace, into their room and tucked them both in. He stood there for a moment, watching them sleep, and he knew his face revealed his deep satisfaction, his sense of innate rightness. He could get used to this fatherhood thing. He really could. Quietly, he closed the door until it latched, then tip-toed down the hall. “Chelsea?”

The living room was empty.

“Chelsea?”

He heard Iya’s distinctive woof and followed the sound. He found Chelsea sitting on the swing-seat outside on the deck, seemingly oblivious to the cold and the snow, with Jake’s prized vintage Golden Höfner archtop guitar across her lap.

Quietly, he slid open the thick, glass door and stepped out. “Chels? Is everything okay?”

She propped the guitar up and idly plucked a chord. “When I saw this against the wall… It hit me. For the first time, it really hit me.”

The moonlight reflected off of the tearstains on her cheeks as Chelsea looked up at Tyler. “It’s over, Tyler. It will never be the same again. For better or for worse…” she looked away again, out over into the pine-covered hill beyond. “It’s over.”

She plucked another chord, let the notes hang in the air, breaking the silence between them. “For a decade, it was ‘Team Morgan’. Good times, best times, sad times… but we were together. And now…” Chelsea looked down at the instrument and its cool, slick surface with her palm, stroking it like a live thing. “I always thought
she
was the Other Woman. I never dreamed it would be me.”

Tyler said nothing, just watched as she stood and brought the guitar back into the house. After she returned it to its stand, she stepped out onto the deck again. He could understand what she was going through, but couldn’t relate to it. His divorce left him feeling nothing but relief, like a weight had been lifted from his life. But then, he and his wife hadn’t loved each other in the end, nor had they shared an eternal bond like children. Chelsea was obviously upset. He eyed the guitar through the glass door. Perhaps she needed more time, to think about… things.

Epilogue

S
ix months later…

“Are you sure you don’t want to be in this movie? I promise it’d be a small part.”

Chelsea, now ex-Morgan, shook her head and smiled her thanks to the waiter who set a large, round, stainless steel platter in front of her. With quick, efficient motions, the man sliced through the pie, spinning the mouth-watering pizza with each cut. He’d barely finished before Chelsea slipped a slice onto her plate, her fingers dancing over the hot melted cheese as she grabbed the escaping strands and piled them on top of her slice. “Thanks, Julie, but I’ve done my fifteen minutes of fame thing. You guys can have it.”

Julie Bishop arched a brow as she watched her best friend’s woman fold the slice of pizza in half vertically, then lift it to her mouth. Grease ran in a tiny rivulet down the younger woman’s wrist, and when she sank her teeth into the gooey mozzarella and tomato concoction, Chelsea moaned in way that was downright sexual.

With a roll of her eyes, the film director used the serving utensils to serve a slice onto her own plate, and primly picked up her silverware and cut herself a bite-sized piece. “Oh, sure. Give a person a Golden Globe nomination for Best Supporting Actress, and all of a sudden they’re too big for the little folk.”

Chelsea laughed around her pizza. “That’s right. Twenty million for five minutes of my glorious presence on film.”

Julie followed another bite with a swallow of the house merlot. “Good lord, you’re sounding more like Ty every day.” She glanced around the restaurant over her wine glass. “Where is Ty, anyway?”

Chelsea’s brown eyes glowed softly as she nodded in the actor’s direction. “He’s signing an autograph for that little girl.”

Julie turned in her seat just as Ty looked up from the paper he was scribbling on to meet Chelsea’s gaze. The sun slipped behind his blue eyes, and they shone. Chelsea took another bite of pizza, sucked the tomato sauce that dripped onto her finger, and those famous blue eyes
gleamed
. Rolling her eyes again, Julie turned back to her plate, and caught Chelsea’s wink.

“Oh, geez, guys. Get a
room
.”

“Well, Julie, if you hadn’t been such a fabulous
letter
writer, you could have been spared.”

The older woman’s golden eyes smirked at the younger. “Yeah, that’ll teach me to play Cupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

It was Chelsea’s turn to roll her eyes as she sipped at her merlot, slid another slice of pepperoni with extra cheese onto her plate.

“Joking aside,” Julie cut herself another bite. “Thank you for coming out with my godsons. It’s made Ty much easier to work with.”

Chelsea’s laughter had the actor in question glance in their direction as he posed for a picture with the little girl’s mother. “Trust me. Flying to New York City with the boys on a private plane and getting to eat pizza at V & T’s all so I can be with Tyler is no hardship.” Her laughter faded into a smile as she tore a dough-bubble on the crust of her slice and popped the piece into her mouth. “It’s just too bad that the girls missed out this go ‘round.” She shrugged, tore off more crust. “But they’re having a blast with their dad and Laurel.”