Bungalow 2

“You can't go into religious orders either. And I don't imagine you want to be alone for the rest of your life.” He smiled gently at her. “It would be a terrible waste. You'll have to get brave again one of these days.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” She stared at the water again and didn't answer.

“I can't think of a good answer in either case.”

“That means you're not ready,” he said practically, and she nodded. It was weird discussing her dating life with him, or lack of one.

“That would be a major understatement, that I'm not ready. I was feeling like a candidate for the Special Olympics for a while.” Peter had knocked her squarely on her ass. She had been feeling winded ever since, none of which was surprising. “Dating doesn't look like all that much fun anyway. Just a lot of people getting dressed up and dicking each other around. I didn't even like dating when I was in college. People were always breaking promises, canceling dates, or standing me up. I hated it until I met Peter.” And in the end he had turned out to be the promise-breaker of all time, and along with his promises, he broke her heart.

“It's nice going out with the right person from time to time,” he encouraged her. He didn't want constant companionship either. Just the company of intelligent women once in a while, and occasionally extremely glamorous ones. He loved showing them off, as sort of accessories for him. Tanya thought of him more as a solitary man, after knowing him to some degree for the past year. She liked their sushi and Chinese takeout dinners best of all, where they discussed problems with the script and various aspects of their work.

“Look at people like Jean Amber and Ned Bright. They got all excited on the set, had a hot romance, and then wound up in a big fight in the press in July. How much fun is that?” Douglas laughed at her assessment of it. Admittedly, they had made a mess, but they were both famous for it, and they were hot young stars.

“I don't suggest you date boys that age,” he laughed at her, “or actors of any age. They're all slightly nuts. And incredibly self-centered. And well known for sloppy behavior. I was thinking of someone more respectable, of a more reasonable age.”

“Are men ever reasonable?” she said sadly. “I thought Peter was, and look what he did. How reasonable was that?”

“People go crazy sometimes. It probably destabilized him when you came to work down here. Not that that's an excuse.”

“She lived next door, and she helped him with the kids while I was gone. He wound up thinking they had more in common because she was there and I wasn't. He was afraid I would want all this as a permanent way of life. He was convinced I would come back here to do another film. And the stupid thing is that I did, but only because he dumped me for someone else, and now I have nothing else to do, so I came back.”

“I thought it was because you were so impressed by the picture we wanted to make,” he chided her gently, and she looked embarrassed as they both laughed.

“Well, that too. But I wouldn't have done another picture if I were still married. I wanted to go home.”

“I know you did. I think he did you a big favor, Tanya. I hope you'll see it as that one day. You don't belong there. You belong here. You're much too sophisticated to be stuck up there in the wilds of Marin.”

“It was nice when the kids were growing up,” she said wistfully. “I have to admit that now I'd be a little bored there. But it's a great place to be married and raise kids.”

“Since you're doing neither these days, I think you're much better off here. It's a far more interesting life for you. And we're going to get you an Oscar one of these days.”

“From your mouth to God's ears,” she laughed. It was an expression she had learned from Max. He had called her that week and invited her to lunch. “Winning an Oscar would really be fun,” she said, and he laughed.

“Now that's a vast understatement. It's fantastic. Major ego food to be recognized by your peers and acknowledged as the best in your field. You deserve one for Mantra, but the competition may be too stiff this year. If so, I think Gone ought to do it for you. I'm counting on it.”

“Thank you, Douglas,” she said quietly, “for the opportunities you've given me. I really appreciate it. I'm glad I came back to work on another picture with you.” They both knew this one was going to be special, even more than the previous one.

“I can hardly wait to start shooting. And I'm glad you're on this one, too. I think it's going to be an extraordinary movie, in great part thanks to your script.” He had been very impressed by what she'd done so far. The director had been extremely excited about it, too. Tanya had learned a lot in the past year, and honed her screenwriting skills to a remarkable degree. “We make a very good team,” he said, glancing admiringly at her. “In fact,” he said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him, “I've been thinking that we might make a very good team in other ways as well.” For a moment, she had no idea what he meant, but his gaze never wavered from hers as they sat next to his pool. She was in his private world, behind the walls he used to keep everyone out. “Tanya, you're an amazing woman. I think we have a lot to bring each other. I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime, for more than just a sushi dinner. I go to some events I believe you might enjoy. Would you do me the honor of going with me sometime?” She was startled by what he was asking her. He was inquiring in a very proper way if she would consider dating him. She sat staring at him, somewhat stunned, and had no idea what to say. “I promise, I'll take very good care of you.”

“I…I don't know what to say … I'd never thought about you that way. It might be fun sometime,” she said cautiously. But she was also worried about getting into an awkward situation with him, if they got involved personally as well as professionally. She didn't want to get in a mess like Jean Amber and Ned Bright, who had become a scandal in the tabloids. She couldn't imagine Douglas behaving that way. She had never thought about herself as an option for him, especially since she had been married during the time they worked together. “I think I'd enjoy it very much,” she said quietly, still shocked that he'd asked her, and then with a gentle pat on her arm, he got up and went to his music room. He sat down at the piano and started to play. He played Chopin this time, and Debussy. She lay by the pool with her eyes closed, listening to the music drifting out to her. He played beautifully, and as she pondered everything he'd said to her, she smiled and drifted slowly off to sleep. He found her there, fast asleep when he finally finished, and stood looking at her for a long time. This was exactly what he'd had in mind the first time he met her. It had taken longer than he thought, but the time had finally come.

It was late afternoon, when he woke her gently, chatted with her for a few minutes, and took her back to the hotel. He promised to call her in a few days.

Chapter 15

The first time Douglas took Tanya to dinner turned out to be a much more elaborate evening than she had expected, but a surprisingly enjoyable one. She wore the black cocktail dress she had brought with her the year before, with black satin sandals, diamond earrings, a little fur jacket, and a small black satin clutch. She wore her long blond hair in a bun. She looked sleek and elegant as she got into his new Bentley next to him, and he seemed pleased as soon as he saw her. She appeared very sophisticated, and she was impressed to see him in black tie. He was more dashing than ever, and they made a very understated glamorous pair. They went to the party of a very well-known actor, who was part of the old guard of Hollywood, an elder statesman who was known for the fabulous parties he gave. The house was as beautiful as Douglas's, though the art was not quite as spectacular. The guests were every important name in the movie business. Tanya met people she'd only heard of, and Douglas saw that she was introduced to everyone and raved about her scripts for Mantra and now Gone. He made her feel comfortable and was attentive to her from the moment they walked in.

The dinner was excellent, and she danced with him on a Lucite dance floor over the pool, to the strains of a band brought in from New York for the occasion. It was a fabulous evening. They stayed until after midnight and had a drink at the Polo Lounge when they got back. She was looking relaxed and happy, as she told him she'd had a wonderful time. He said he had, too.

“It's usually an interesting crowd at his parties,” Douglas commented. “Not just the showy types but the smart ones. I always find people there I like to talk to.” Tanya nodded, she had had several interesting conversations herself. Douglas had made a point of including her in every group he met. He had been a thoughtful, considerate date, and she had had a lovely evening. She had been surprised at how at ease she was with him. After their drink he thanked her for joining him. He said she had made it a much more enjoyable evening, and she could see that he meant it. “We'll do it again soon,” he promised with a warm smile, and then kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Tanya. Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow.” They had preproduction meetings scheduled in his offices the next day. She felt a bit like Cinderella. She'd be back to scrubbing the castle floors again tomorrow, but tonight had been a delightful interlude for her, and for him as well.

He walked her to the door of her bungalow and left her there, and then walked away, looking pensive and smiling to himself. The evening had been even better than he'd hoped, for both of them. He drove away in his Bentley as Tanya slowly got undressed, thinking about him. He was a complex, complicated man. She always had a feeling that there was so much more of him hidden behind his walls. It was a strong temptation to try and get behind them, or to look for the key. What she liked best about him was his mind, but he was a handsome man as well. It had never even occurred to her to be attracted to him, but she was surprised to find she was. She had liked dancing with him, talking to him, and discussing the evening with him afterward. He made her laugh as well, as she did for him. In all, the evening had been a success. She slipped into bed after brushing her teeth, thinking about how lucky she was to have been out with him. She didn't think of him that way, but she knew it was a major coup in Hollywood to be on the arm of Douglas Wayne.

He was extremely circumspect the next morning at their meeting. Adele presented her notes on the script, and they discussed them. Douglas deferred to Tanya several times, and he agreed with her in most instances. When he didn't, he was careful to explain why. He was more respectful of her than usual, and particularly thoughtful. He saw to it that her brand of tea was served to her repeatedly, and joined her at lunch afterward with the others. She had the feeling that he was courting her, very quietly and subtly, and in a way that was comfortable for her. It was an odd feeling, but a very pleasant sensation. He walked her out to her car afterward and suggested dinner again the next day. She agreed. And as she drove away, she found herself thinking of him, wondering where this was going. Nowhere probably, but going out with him seemed like a nice thing, particularly in light of the last six months, which had been nightmarish for her.

Her second official date with Douglas was far more relaxed than the first one. He took her to a cozy Italian restaurant, where they sat and talked for hours. He told her about his childhood in Missouri. His father had been a banker, his mother from a very social family. They had died when he was young and left him some money. He had used it to come to California, and tried to be an actor. It had taken him very little time to figure out that for the most part, the money and the excitement were in the production end. He had invested his savings, and had made a little more money. And from then on he had invested and produced until he had an enormous fortune. It was a fascinating story, and he shared it with her with ease.

He had won his first Oscar at twenty-seven, was a legend in Hollywood by the time he was thirty, and was even more so now. By now he was an institution, not just a legend. There were legions of stories about him, and everyone admired his Midas touch. He was the object of envy, jealousy, respect, and admiration. He drove a hard bargain, had integrity, yet never took no for an answer. He readily admitted to her that he liked getting his way, and was a terrible spoiled brat when someone denied him something. They were all good insights into him, and she was intrigued by what he shared with her. He was allowing her to see what he wanted her to see, but she could sense that his walls were still up, and maybe always would be. She had no reason to try to scale them or take them down. It was an interesting challenge to try to discover who he was. Visibly, he was an extremely intelligent, somewhat distant, cautious man with real financial brilliance. He knew a great deal about art, loved music, and said he believed in families, for other people. He didn't hesitate to admit that children made him uncomfortable. He appeared to have a great many quirks and eccentricities and opinions. And at the same time Tanya could sense that he was vulnerable, kind at times, and he was surprisingly unpretentious given who he was. The somewhat sardonic, cold, unnerving side of him she had seen in the beginning, seemed to have softened considerably as they spent time together and she got to know him.

They went home even later this time, as he wended through the traffic in the Bentley. There was something very old-fashioned about him, but she found that appealing. He was fifty-five years old, and hadn't been married in twenty-five years. They were all interesting bits of information he was giving her, and she shared equally with him. She also referred to her children frequently, but he didn't ask her much about them. He said often, apologetically, that children were not his thing.

He kissed her on the cheek again after another very pleasant evening. She felt respected by him, and had a sense that he would not intrude on her in any way. He kept his distance, had welldefined, obvious boundaries, and expected others to do the same. He made it clear that he disliked people crawling all over him. He had an equal distaste for unctuous waiters, snotty restaurant owners, and maé®tre d's. Douglas liked good service, but didn't like to be intruded on by anyone, for any reason. He gave Tanya that message again and again. Douglas preferred to advance toward people, at his own speed, rather than be crowded, invaded, or pursued. It was fine with her. She was perfectly content to let him set the pace. She had no desire to trap him, crowd him, or hunt him down. She was perfectly comfortable with things as they were, and she expected nothing from him. The relationship they shared currently seemed perfect to her. Despite the pleasant evenings she had spent with him, they were only friends.

Douglas invited her to several more very enjoyable events, one at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the other for the opening of a play that was touring from New York. It was very controversial and the people who attended the benefit opening were an eclectic and interesting crowd. They slipped out for dinner afterward by themselves. He took her to L'Orangerie for a late-night supper, and avoided the familiar crowd at Spago, where he would have been standing up and greeting people all night. He wanted to focus on Tanya, and their conversations, not on all the people who would be seeing them and wondering who she was. He ordered the caviar in eggshells for her. After that they both had lobster, and soufflé for dessert. It was the perfect meal, a lovely evening, and he was proving to be a thoroughly enjoyable dinner companion and date. All the uneasiness she'd felt about him when they first met, his sharp comments to her, his probing cynical view about her life and marriage, had absolutely nothing to do with the man she was spending time with now. Douglas was understanding, kind, interesting, interested, and devoted himself to seeing that she had a good time. He found unusual things for them to do, which he thought would be of particular interest to her. He was respectful, charming, gracious, poised, and she had a constant sense that he was protecting her now, even in meetings or on the set. He made everything easy for her.

Their Sunday afternoons at his pool were becoming a ritual. She did the crossword puzzle while he played the piano, or she lay in the sun and slept. It was a perfect counterpoint to their busy weeks once the filming began. They started a week late, in early October, and given the content of the film and the rigorous performance demands, the atmosphere on the set was very tense. Both she and Douglas often needed to get out at night and relax. Sometimes he came over and they ordered food from room service, or ate at the Polo Lounge, although it was less peaceful then than in her bungalow. But it was also nice to see people and get out.

They seemed to have many of the same interests, the same need for people or not, depending on their mood. And they appeared to have similar paces and needs and rhythms. Tanya was amazed at how well they got along. She would never have guessed that being with him could be so much fun, although she had to admit to herself late at night, alone in her bungalow, that she still missed Peter terribly at times. It would have been strange if she didn't. You didn't wash away twenty years overnight. Maybe he had, but it still felt weird to her not to call him at the end of her day, or to say goodnight. Once or twice, in a moment of agonizing loneliness and missing him, she nearly had. She missed the comfortable and familiar aspects of their relationship, although Douglas was keeping her happy and busy, and kept her mind off how much her life had changed, and how fast. It was hard adjusting to the idea that Peter was gone, for good. She wondered how he was getting along with Alice, if they were happy, or felt they had made a mistake. It was hard to believe that seizing one's happiness, while betraying spouses and friends and breaking hearts, would win them happiness in the end. But maybe it had. The children were careful, when she spoke to them, not to mention Peter and Alice to her, and she was grateful for that. Hearing about them was painful, and she suspected that it would always be to some extent. The divorce was going to be final in two months. She hated knowing that, and tried not to think about it. Douglas provided good distraction from the sorrows in her life.

He asked her about her divorce one Sunday afternoon, at his pool. They had just finished a lunch he had made for her, of endive salad and cracked crab, while Tanya commented on how spoiled she was. This was a far cry from her life in Marin. But everything was now, from dinners at Spago, and the people who recognized her when she went out, to her comfortable life in Bungalow 2 at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Everything about her life had changed, and Douglas was responsible for most of it, if not all.

“When will your divorce be final, Tanya?” he asked casually, sipping a glass of excellent white wine. His wine cellars were extraordinary, and he had introduced Tanya to many wines and vintages she had heard and read about but never tried. He was also an aficionado of Cuban cigars. Tanya loved the smell of them when he smoked them, which he always did outside. He was extremely considerate and polite, and she was surprised by the question about her divorce. Now that she was seeing more of him, and he wasn't trying to provoke her as he had in the beginning, he rarely asked her personal things. He stayed off painful subjects, and kept their exchanges fairly superficial. It was obvious to Tanya that he enjoyed her company, but intimacy was something he shunned.

“At the end of December,” she said quietly. She didn't like being reminded of it. It brought to mind a painful time, which was not yet over and might not be for a long time. She couldn't imagine that a day would come when thinking of Peter, and his leaving her for Alice, didn't hurt. It still did. A lot. But Douglas helped, mostly by distracting her. And he was very kind to her. She was grateful for the good times they shared. It added another dimension to the working relationship they had.

“Did you settle all your property?” he asked with interest. The business side of everything intrigued him most. Emotional issues were of less consequence to him. That was her bailiwick, not his.

“There wasn't much to settle. A small stock portfolio we divided equally, and our house. We both own it, but he agreed to let me and the children live in it, for now. Eventually, we'll probably have to sell it. And it won't make sense to keep it once the kids are out of college. Now we can all go back for holidays and summers. And I guess I'll be living there between pictures, if I keep doing this.” She smiled at him. “If not, I'll go back to Marin and write. Fortunately Peter's not anxious for the money, he said he can wait to sell. Peter makes a healthy living as an attorney, but kids are expensive, and so are three tuitions in college, so sooner or later, we'll get rid of the house.” The kids' college tuitions were a hefty bite. And the money she had made from the two movies she'd written in the past year, she had invested with a stockbroker in San Francisco, and it was her own. Peter had made no claim to that money, and had wanted nothing from her, although they were married under community property, had had nothing when they married, and had no prenup. He hadn't been greedy or financially demanding, he just wanted out, as soon as possible, so he could be with Alice. She had no idea if they were planning to get married, or if so, when. “What made you ask?” Tanya said out loud, wondering why he had inquired about their divorce.

“Just curious,” he said, looking relaxed, as he sipped his wine and lit a cigar. Tanya loved the pungent smell of the smoke. It was a Romeo y Julieta from Havana, which someone brought in for him. “Divorce always seems like such a mess to me. People beating each other up over money. Like beggars in the street over a can of pennies, scrambling for each one, and trying to cut the couch and the piano in half. It seems to turn the most civilized people into hooligans.” He had had a few runins of that kind himself, from women who wanted to extort money from him, or set him up for palimony. His two divorces had been easy and clean when he was young. Since then he had never been tempted to try again. “Would you marry again, Tanya?” he asked with interest, as she hesitated, thinking about it. They talked about every imaginable subject as they lay next to his pool on Sunday afternoons, and sometimes they didn't talk at all, or swam in the pool together, doing synchonized laps. She had never been as comfortable with anyone except Peter. Much to her own surprise, she was getting used to Douglas. It was the Sunday afternoons of just being there together that brought them closest. She wasn't in love with him, but she thoroughly enjoyed his company and the time they shared.

“I don't know,” she said honestly, in answer to his question. “I doubt it. I don't know why I would. I don't want more children. I know people have them later than this, but I feel too old to start again, and I'm happy with the kids I have. I can't imagine finding someone again whom I'd be that serious about. I think for me it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I was with Peter half my life. I don't think I have the heart to start over, and risk getting disappointed or hurt again.” Her eyes were sad as she said it, as he blew careful smoke rings in the air, listening and thinking about what she was saying.

“If your expectations were different, you might not get disappointed, Tanya,” he said sensibly. “You believed in the fairy tale, so when the glass slipper broke, all was lost. Some people marry more practically than that, or they're more realistic about the arrangement they make. It leaves less opportunity for heartbreak and disappointment. Personally, if I ever married again, I'd prefer to do that. Romance and passion are much less my style, and I think they're a guarantee of disaster. The only person I could imagine marrying would be a beloved friend, someone I get along with supremely well, who offers companionship and understanding, and a sense of humor about life. The rest seems untrustworthy to me.” What he said made sense but wasn't romantic. She could see why he thought that way. She couldn't imagine Douglas falling head over heels in love, but she could see him forming a partnership with a woman he loved and respected, or even one he liked. Douglas wasn't ruled by his emotions, but by his head. Although it was hard to imagine him in partnership with any woman. He seemed perfectly content living alone.

“Can you see yourself marrying again, Douglas?” she asked, curious about him. He seemed the consummately happy bachelor. He didn't appear to need companionship a lot of the time. And when he wanted it, he knew how to organize it and find it. He enjoyed Tanya's company immensely, but she had no sense that he was wooing her or in love with her. He enjoyed the time he spent with her, and his own life as well. It worked perfectly for both of them for now. He didn't press her, didn't make her uncomfortable, didn't want sexual favors from her. They were business associates who, by a stroke of good fortune, and some effort on his part and goodwill on hers, had become friends. It was perfect for Tanya at this point in her life. A man hotly pursuing her would have frightened her, and Douglas knew that. He could easily sense that she wasn't over Peter yet, and might not be for a while, even a long time. She had genuinely loved the man, no matter how unworthy he had proven himself to be in the end.

Douglas answered her question with caution and careful thought. He had asked himself the same question several times, always with the same answer. Like Tanya, he saw no real reason to marry again. Now and then it had momentary appeal, but never for long. He considered himself at low risk for marriage. “I don't know,” he said to her, watching his smoke rings dissolve in the air. “I think you're right. There's no real reason to at our age. Although you're considerably younger than I am. Twelve years, if I'm not mistaken. At my age, there's a different perspective. I find myself thinking at times that I'll be alone one day. I don't think I want to end my life alone. Nor do I want the burden of some demanding young woman on my hands now, pestering me to pay for a face-lift and implants, a new sports car, diamonds, and furs. I'd be perfectly willing to give all that to her, but I don't want some high-maintenance annoying woman around for the next thirty years as an insurance policy for my old age. What if I get hit by a bus when I'm sixty? Then I'll have put up with all that nonsense for nothing.” He smiled at Tanya, puffing on his cigar again and exhaling languidly. “Actually, I don't think I'm old enough to get married yet. I ought to wait until I'm seventy-five or eighty, and falling apart. Though I might not find a good one then. It's actually quite a challenging dilemma at any age. I don't lose a lot of sleep over it, but I've never found the perfect solution to the problem, nor the person I'd want to spend my life with in the meantime, so I stay as I am. I imagine though in your case, Tanya, you must be very afraid to get hurt again. With good reason. You got a rotten deal on the last one.” He had felt very sorry for her about it, although she seemed to be doing well, and he hoped he was helping her. He liked her, and enjoyed her company immensely, more than he had ever expected to when they first met, although he liked her even then. He liked getting to know her better. She never disappointed him. “What would you want in marriage if you did get married again?” he asked her, looking pensive. It was a funny conversation, for two people who really didn't want to get married, to each other, or anyone else.

She hesitated before she answered. “I'd want what I had before, or thought I did. Someone I can love and trust, whose company I enjoy, with the same interests, or similar ones. Someone I respect and admire, and who feels the same about me. Basically, a best friend with a wedding ring,” she said quietly, looking at him with sad eyes. It had reminded her of all she lost. Her best friend as well as her husband. It had been a major loss for her, and in truth she hadn't lost him, she'd been robbed.

“What you're saying doesn't sound very romantic,” he said carefully. “Actually, I like that. All that hot young romance lasts for about five minutes, and then turns into a disaster. I hate mess in my life. I like order.” She smiled, listening to him. She could see that about him. He never had a hair out of place, every inch of him was immaculate and impeccable, his house always looked as though the architect and designer had finished it that morning and they were waiting for Architectural Digest to shoot it. Some might have found his obsessive tidiness irritating, but she found it pleasant to be around, and comforting somehow. It implied that all was in good order and nothing would get out of hand. A life in good control. Tanya wasn't a person who found disorder and mess charming, and neither was Douglas. He loved meticulous surroundings, and an orderly life at all times, which he said was one of the reasons he had never wanted children.

According to him, people with children seemed to be dealing with chaos at all times. He had never found that appealing, no matter how much they said they loved them or wouldn't give up parenting for a minute. The thought of a child in rehab, crashing a car, crying all night, or getting finger paint on the couch, or even cookie dough or peanut butter, made him hyperventilate. He was definitely not a candidate for that kind of hysteria in his life, and with children there always was. He admired people who took that on, but he had never had any desire whatsoever to volunteer for that program, and he felt the same way now. He would never have married a woman, or even spent a great deal of time with one, who wanted children. He had enough headaches and responsibilities in his life without that, a bunch of unruly childlike actors among them.

“It doesn't sound like either of us is about to run out and get married, does it, Tanya?” He smiled as he put out his cigar.

“I certainly wasn't considering it,” she laughed. “I'm not even divorced yet,” although she was sad to realize she would be in ten weeks. Douglas didn't seem to have any pressing desire or need to marry again either. They were the perfect companions for each other, particularly on Sundays. In a funny way, it was a bit like being married, without the sex or the cuddly part. He never kissed her or held her, or even put an arm around her. They just relaxed side by side, contemplating life, from their perspective, and the state of the world as they saw it. They were intelligent observers, casually linked, enjoying a front-row seat on life. It was all she wanted at the moment, nothing more.

After that, Douglas played the piano, as he always did, for two hours. Tanya lay by the pool, listening to him, awake this time. The music was beautiful, and the day was warm and perfect. Life seemed easy and comfortable whenever she was with him. And for some unspoken reason, she felt safe with him, which was what Tanya needed. Peace and safety. Her life had been dangerous and frightening enough for a while. The feeling of safe haven that Douglas gave her was priceless to her and deeply appreciated for now. And the intelligent companionship she offered him, with no emotional demands put on him, was all Douglas had ever wanted.

Chapter 16

The shooting of the movie Gone went well all through November. There was a compelling but steady pace established, the director kept the tension high, and the actors gave the best performances everyone on the set had seen for a long time. Douglas was thrilled, particularly with Tanya's script, which she honed and polished constantly. It was brilliant. He praised her about it lavishly, as did Adele.

The week before Thanksgiving Douglas took her to the premiere of the movie they'd made before, Mantra. She wanted her kids to come, but all three of them had midterms and couldn't attend. Jean Amber and Ned Bright were there, not speaking to each other, despite their hot romance of the year before, which illustrated everything Douglas had said pejoratively about Hollywood quicksilver love affairs, which vanished almost as soon as they began. Tanya wasn't a fan of those affairs either. They seemed exhausting and pointless and way too short-lived.

The premiere itself was very glamorous, and there was a party afterward at the Regent Beverly Wilshire. It was one of those movie events where everyone on the planet was there. Tanya had bought a beautiful black satin evening gown, and she looked stunning as she walked in on Douglas's arm. Photographers snapped their picture, and he looked very proud. Max was there looking rumpled in a rented tux, and solitary without Harry. He and Tanya enjoyed a warm conversation, and he said he was hearing great things about the movie she was working on now. Douglas was hoping for an Oscar for Mantra, but was almost sure of one for Gone.

“Maybe you'll get one too, Tanya,” Max said with a warm smile, as Douglas appeared, having posed for photographs with both stars.

“Jesus, those two are going to kill each other one of these days.” Ned and Jean had spat insults at each other through clenched teeth, firing rockets past Douglas, while smiling broadly for the photographers who couldn't hear what they were saying.

“Ahhh, young love, it'll do you in every time,” Max said wisely with a broad grin.

“How's Harry?” Tanya inquired, and Max looked pleased.

“His tux was at the cleaner so he couldn't make it. It's his bowling night tonight anyway.” The dog was his alter ego, and truly his best friend. Anyone who asked about him, and liked him, was Max's friend for life.

“Tell him I said hi, and that I miss him.” Tanya smiled.

“Going home for Thanksgiving?” he asked her, and she nodded. She hadn't seen any of her children in weeks, even Molly. She'd been too busy working on the film, even on Saturday nights. And she was usually with Douglas on Sundays now. Their Sundays had become a weekly event, which neither of them wanted to sacrifice. Molly was busy with her friends anyway. Tanya was looking forward to catching up with all of them in Marin, although she was sharing them with Peter and Alice this time. She had Thanksgiving, and he had them on Friday night at Alice's new house, where they were living. The kids wanted to be with their friends on Saturday. She was planning to fly up with Molly on Wednesday night. Megan and Jason were driving up from Santa Barbara together. It was going to be good to be together again, and she was excited about it, although she had scarcely mentioned it to Douglas. His eyes glazed whenever she mentioned her children.

“What about you?” Max asked Douglas, since they were old friends. “Eating small children as usual instead of turkey this year?” In spite of himself, Douglas laughed.

“You're going to give Tanya a terrible impression, if you give away all my secrets,” Douglas pretended to chide him, and Max shrugged.

“She might as well know who she's working for.” He grinned, and a few minutes later he drifted away to talk to someone else, as Tanya and Douglas chatted, and agreed how much they liked him, and what a good friend he was to all.

“I've known him since I came to Hollywood,” Douglas said. “He's never changed. He looked like that as a kid. His work gets better and better, but he's always the same down-to-earth, decent guy.”

“He was really sweet to me when my marriage was falling apart,” Tanya acknowledged, and a little while later she and Douglas made their way back to the red carpet, and glided gracefully out the door. Douglas said they had done their job. He drove her back to the hotel in the Bentley, and neither of them was in the mood for the Polo Lounge. She asked him if he wanted a drink in the bungalow. It felt like her own house now. He teased her about it sometimes, and said she'd better buy it, because it was obvious she was never going to give it up. She had moved the furniture around to suit her better. She had her own duvet in the second bedroom for her children, and she had photographs of them in silver frames everywhere, and pots of white orchids she had bought at the flower market. It looked cozier than ever now.

“That would be nice,” he said in answer to her invitation, and after handing his car keys to the doorman, he followed her down the path to her bungalow. She had a bottle of the wine he liked in the fridge in the kitchen. Neither of them was paying close attention to it, or attributing deep meaning to it, but they were seeing a lot of each other these days, both on the set and at night. They had casual dinners once or twice a week, at least one of them takeout in her room, and he took her to some party or event about twice a week. And they talked on the phone every night, usually about the script. And then there were sacred Sundays at his pool. In fact, they were together almost all the time.

She poured him a glass of wine, and he sat down easily in one of the room's comfortable chairs and stretched his legs out, admiring her.

“You look beautiful tonight, Tanya,” he said simply, and she smiled.

“Thank you, Douglas. You look very handsome.” She was always proud to be out on his arm, and flattered that he took her with him. She still felt a little like a country bumpkin, particularly among the sea of women who had had plastic surgery, collagen, and Botox, and whose breasts were invariably hanging out, with figures worthy of a chorus line in Las Vegas, in clothes she couldn't imagine wearing. She had a quiet, elegant, natural Grace Kelly look compared to all that, which he much preferred. He had seen enough of the other in his years in Hollywood to have a vast indifference to it. Implants, bleached hair, and nose jobs no longer turned him on.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” she asked him. She knew he no longer had family, and was suddenly worried about him. She didn't like the thought of him being alone over the holidays. But she could easily imagine that inviting him to Marin with her children would have been his worst nightmare. And probably theirs as well.

“I'm spending it with friends in Palm Springs. Not exciting, but peaceful. That's really all I need.” They had both been so busy on the picture, they were exhausted, as was the cast, but neither Douglas nor Tanya looked it that night. She looked radiant, and he was obviously in good spirits, and enjoying being with her.

“I was thinking about asking you to Marin, but I figured that to you that would be a fate worse than death.” She smiled, and he laughed.

“Indeed it would. Although I'm sure they're very nice kids.” Then he mentioned something to her that he'd been thinking about for a while. He wasn't sure how she'd feel about it, or what her plans were for her kids. “Do you suppose you and the children would like to come on my boat sometime? It'll be in the Caribbean over Christmas, and you could all meet me in St. Bart's. How do you think they'd like that?” He looked as though he meant it, and she stared at him with wide eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“I think so. Unless you tell me they all get seasick and hate boats, or you do. We have stabilizers, so it's a pretty steady ride, and we don't have to go far. If they prefer, we can come into port at night.”

“Douglas, that's an incredible offer.” She looked stunned. She had been thinking of taking them to Tahoe to go skiing. Spending time on his yacht in St. Bart's was an incredible gift to her, and to them. “Thank you. Do you mean it?” she asked with a look of awe.

“Of course I do. I'd love to have you on the boat. And I think they'd enjoy it, too.” From everything she'd heard about it, she knew her children would think they had died and gone to Heaven. She didn't know what Peter's plans for them were, but she was sure they could work something out. “I'm going down a few days before Christmas, and you'll probably want to be together over the holiday. I can send the plane for you whenever you want.” Douglas never flew commercial, he had his own jet. Being anywhere near him, or spending time with him, was a lesson in living well.

“I would absolutely love it,” she said honestly. “Let me talk to the kids over Thanksgiving and see what their plans are. I don't know what arrangements they've made with their father.”

“There's no rush,” he said quietly, setting his glass down on the table. “I'm not inviting anyone else. I figure we'll all be so exhausted by then, I'd just go down, make script notes, and relax.”

“That sounds fabulous to me.” She beamed at him, grateful to him for offering her children an extraordinary opportunity. Douglas might eat small children for Thanksgiving, as Max suggested, but he had been nothing but kind to her, and now to her kids as well.

They chatted for a few minutes, and he got up to leave. She walked him to the door of the bungalow living room, and thanked him again for his incredibly generous invitation to the boat. He turned and smiled down at her. She looked tiny next to him, but he knew her well enough now to know that her spirit was ten feet tall.

“I'd like to have you on board with me,” he said honestly. “The boat is a wonderful part of my life. I hope you enjoy it, Tanya. We could take some wonderful trips on it together.” She was mildly surprised by what he'd said. Their friendship had deepened and expanded over the past several months, particularly since she'd come back to do Gone, but traveling together was another dimension. She was surprised and touched by his invitation, and his wanting to share his yacht with them.

“I'd love that,” she said softly, feeling unexpectedly shy with him. He was so good to her, she had no way to reciprocate or even thank him, and as her eyes met his, he bent toward her slowly, and kissed her gently on the mouth. He had never done that before. She didn't know what to say, and before she could, he kissed her again, harder this time, pulling her into his arms gently, and exploring her mouth with his tongue. She had never expected him to do that, and felt breathless and startled in his arms, but she had no desire to pull away, and found herself kissing him back, with unexpected passion. Everything that was happening between them left her feeling stunned and a little overwhelmed. She had never thought of Douglas in a sexual way before, or as a potential man in her life.

When he finally stopped kissing her, she looked at him with wide eyes that searched his for the meaning of what he'd just done.

“I've been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispered. “I didn't want to frighten you, or do it too soon. I'm in love with you, Tanya,” he told her, and she nearly gasped as the force of what he was saying hit her like a wave. She had no idea what she felt for him in that vein. This was all new to her, but she knew she liked him very much, and felt more comfortable with him than she ever had with anyone else, except Peter. She respected and admired him, liked him. But she didn't know if she could love him, or already did. She was totally unsure what she felt.

She didn't know what to say, as he put a finger to her lips. “Don't say anything yet. You don't need to. Get used to the idea first. We'll figure it out in time.” He kissed her again, and she melted into his arms. It was hard to believe this was happening to her. She didn't know if this was a Hollywood romance or a real one for him, and she knew even less what it was for her. He had taken her totally by surprise.

“Goodnight,” he said then, and before she could answer him or comment, he had slipped through the door of the bungalow, and left, as Tanya stood staring after him, and could hear the rapid beating of her heart. She couldn't decide if what she felt was fear, desire, or love.

Chapter 17

Molly and Tanya met at LAX on Wednesday afternoon. Tanya had barely left the set in time and had been running, so as not to miss the flight. She had felt scattered on the set all day, and only glimpsed Douglas for a few minutes. He looked at her with a slow smile, as he stood surrounded by a group of people, and with a shy look, she had smiled back. Suddenly everything had changed between them, and she hadn't talked to him since the night before. She had thought about him for hours all night, trying to sort out what she felt in her head. He was a dazzling man, and she liked him, but she had never thought of him as a potential man for her. He still wasn't yet. But his saying he was in love with her turned her whole world upside down, in a very pleasant way. It was exciting and scary all at once.

Molly was waiting for her at Starbucks in the terminal, as promised, and they ran to catch the plane. They just made it, and were the last ones on. Tanya's cell phone rang just as she sat down on the plane. They hadn't made the announcement to turn cell phones off yet, so she answered it and was surprised to hear Douglas's voice.

“I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk today,” he said in the smooth, familiar voice that had new meaning. “I didn't want you to forget what I said last night, or to think it was the wine. I love you, Tanya. I have for a long time. Since last year in fact, but I knew you wouldn't be open to it. I didn't think this time would ever come for us. I think now it has.”

“I…I don't know what to say … I'm stunned …” And more than a little frightened. She didn't know if she was in love with him, but she felt very close to him. The thought of being involved with him had never crossed her mind. She'd had no idea whatsoever that he cared for her, and had never thought of him in that light.

“Don't be afraid, Tanya,” he said calmly, and she was aware of feeling safe with him again. “I think this could be the kind of marriage we both want. A powerful alliance between two interesting people who care about each other. Best friends with wedding rings, as you put it, when we talked about it a while back, in more general terms. That's what I want. I'd never wanted to marry again until I met you.” He was coming on fast and strong. “Give yourself time to get used to the idea.”

“I think I have to do that,” she said cautiously, feeling anxious again. She felt awkward talking to him, with her daughter in the next seat. She didn't want Molly to know what was going on. She needed time to get used to the idea herself first, before she said anything to them. She wasn't over Peter yet. But she felt drawn to Douglas more powerfully than she would have thought possible. And although it frightened her more than a little, she liked what he said. It did much to soothe her wounds of the past year.

“I'll call you over the weekend,” he promised. “Don't forget to ask the kids about the boat.”

“I won't … and Douglas … thank you for everything …I mean that …I just need a little time …” She said as they made the announcement to turn cell phones off. They were getting ready to pull away from the gate.

“I know you do. You can have all the time you need,” he said, sounding calm and in control.

“Thank you,” she said softly, wondering what incredible stroke of fate had dropped him into her lap. Maybe it would prove to be the greatest blessing of her life. She didn't know yet, but she suddenly hoped it would be. It would turn a tragic ending into a happy one after all. How perfect would that be? She said goodbye to Douglas and turned off her phone as Molly watched her.

“Who was that?” Molly asked with interest. She had been watching her mother's face.

“My boss,” Tanya laughed. “Douglas Wayne. He was calling about the script.”

“You looked weird. Do you like him a lot? Like a guy, I mean?” Out of the mouths of babes, Tanya thought, but didn't tell her what had happened, or what he'd said.

“Don't be silly. We're just friends.” She leaned her head against the seat then and closed her eyes. She held Molly's hand on the flight, and fell asleep thinking of Douglas and the amazing things he had said. It was all like a dream.

They took a cab to Marin from the airport in San Francisco, and the house looked tired and dusty to Tanya when she walked in and turned on the lights. No one had been in it since September, and to her it had the look of a house no one loved anymore. It seemed sad to her. She fluffed up the cushions, turned all the lights on, and made a run to Safeway while Molly called her friends. By the time she got back, Jason and Megan had arrived, and there was chaos in the kitchen. Half a dozen of their friends had already shown up, and everyone was talking about boyfriends, girlfriends, parties, school. The noise was deafening, the music was on, and Tanya beamed. These were the scenes she loved and missed so terribly now in L.A. She was glad they had come home, instead of having Thanksgiving in L.A. at the hotel, which would have been a huge mistake. The kids had wanted Thanksgiving and Christmas here, at their home, and so did she.

She made hamburgers and pizza for them, a big tossed salad, and french fries in the microwave. By midnight, the friends had left, the kitchen was clean, her children were upstairs, and she had set the table for Thanksgiving. It was nice being home again, and sad to think how much their lives had changed. The children were all away at college, nearly grown up, and off to their own lives. Peter was living with Alice. Their divorce was almost final, and she was living in a hotel in L.A. Being in Ross again was like a time warp somehow, but one that was dear to her, and that she knew she would always love. Sadly, she was aware that she still loved Peter, too. She realized that she wasn't over him yet, and wondered if she ever would be. Here in Ross, where they had shared their lives, missing him was more acute.

She got up, as she did every year, at five A.M. to start the turkey. It had been hard sleeping in her bed alone. The Thanksgiving before was when she had first suspected Peter's affair with Alice, even before it had begun, and now the tides had swept them all away, to other shores. She stuffed the turkey and put it in the oven, as she thought of Douglas and wondered if he would enjoy it here. It seemed unlikely that he would. This was too down home for him, but he offered other pleasures and blessings. She could hardly wait to ask the children about going on his boat after Christmas. She hoped they'd say yes. She would love to do that with him and have all her children with her. It seemed like an amazing adventure for all of them to share.

Once the turkey was in the oven, she lay on her bed and dreamed. Trying to forget Peter, she made herself think of what her life might be like with Douglas, in the spectacular house in L.A., listening to him play the piano and sharing his life with him. It was a very exciting prospect, even though unfamiliar to her. But it meant a lot that she felt safe and was so comfortable with him. It wasn't romance or passion, but it was friendship, and hopefully in time love. She was open to the idea, although it was still confusing and very new. His sharing his feelings with her had come as a huge surprise to her. She let her mind drift, examining the possibilities of what life could be like with him.

As they always did, the children dressed for the Thanksgiving meal. Both girls wore dresses, as did Tanya, and Jason wore a suit.

They took their places at the table, and Tanya said the blessing as she always did, for the food, for the gifts of the previous year and the one to come, for bringing their family together, and for the love that they shared. As she said it, her voice caught and her eyes filled with tears. All she could think of were the wrenching changes that their family had been through that year, and the divorce that wasn't even final yet. As she started to cry, Molly reached out and touched her hand, and Tanya finished the prayer with a loving smile at all three of them. In truth, they had much to be thankful for. They had each other, which was still the greatest gift of all.

Jason carved the turkey, in his father's place this year, and did a fine job of it. The meal was delicious, with the exception of the sweet potatoes, which Tanya had slightly burned.

“I'm out of practice,” she apologized to her children. “I haven't cooked since last summer.” It was hard to believe she'd been living in a hotel for that long.

“Alice makes puree of chestnuts, and stuffing with bourbon in it,” Megan announced, and it sounded like a reproach to her mother. Tanya made no comment, and Jason gave his sister an evil look. They were going to Peter's house the following morning, and all of the children were well aware that diplomatic relations between the two houses were somewhat strained. They tried not to mention either parent to the other, or Alice to their mother. It was still too soon, and awkward for them, too. Megan had stayed very close to Alice, all through the turmoil of the divorce. Molly had distanced herself from her, distressed over the affair that had broken up their parents' marriage. And Jason tried to stay out of it, and hoped that eventually the shitstorm would calm down. He had no desire to take sides with either camp, and wanted to visit peacefully in both.

“I have an invitation to share with you guys,” Tanya said in the middle of dinner, to try and divert the conversation from Alice's menu choices and cooking skills, which were painful for her to hear about. Megan was still resentful of Tanya's life in L.A., and had told her months before that whatever her father and Alice had done, the divorce was entirely her fault. It had been hard to hear, but was clearly what she felt, and brought up Tanya's own worst guilt and fears about having left for L.A. “We've been invited to the Caribbean on a very fancy yacht during Christmas vacation,” Tanya announced grandly, as all eyes turned to her.

“Whose? Some movie star?” Megan asked hopefully.

“The producer I work with. Douglas Wayne. In St. Bart's. He'll fly us down on his plane.”

“How did that happen? Are you dating him or something?” Megan asked, instantly suspicious of her mother and the lavish invitation.

“I haven't been. We're just friends, but I think it could lead in that direction at some point.” She didn't want to tell them he was talking marriage and had said he loved her. It was too soon, for her, and almost surely for them, too. She wanted them to get to know him first before she handed them a fait accompli. And she needed time to adjust, too. “We could go down right after Christmas, and spend New Year's on the boat,” she said cautiously.

“What about Dad?” Megan was quick to defend her father's interests, and time.

“I was going to Squaw with friends,” Jason said vaguely, considering the invitation, not sure which would be best. He made his decision quickly. “Actually, I think I'd like to come.” He had always loved boats, and a yacht in the Caribbean was too sweet to resist.

“I'll stay with Dad,” Megan was quick to add, just to be contrary, even if it “cut off her face to spite her nose,” as her brother liked to say when she blew up the bridge, which she did at times, to make a point.

“You can always change your mind later,” her mother told her gently, and then turned to her other twin. “Molly? What do you think?”

“I'll go with you.” She smiled softly. “It sounds cool to me. Can we bring friends?” Tanya gulped.

“I think it might be rude to ask. Maybe another time, if he asks, but not the first time.” They were due to spend Christmas Eve with their father, Christmas Day with her, and she suggested they go to St. Bart's on the twenty-sixth, and come back on New Year's Day, since they had to be back in school on the second. It gave them five days on the boat, which might be enough for Douglas, and it was a wonderful treat for them. Everybody looked pleased, even Megan for not going.

In the end, they had a nice meal and a good Thanksgiving. The kids went to their father's the next day, and the house seemed empty after they left, and better again on Saturday when they returned. They said not a word about Peter, which was a relief to Tanya. Douglas called on Friday, and she told him what the kids had decided about the boat.

“We'll be on hiatus till the eighth,” he reminded her. “Why don't I send your kids back on the plane, and you and I stay on the boat for a few more days, till the seventh? It would give us some time alone.” He made it sound as though they already had a relationship, and she was wondering if they would by then. As always, he had everything organized and planned. He needed to control his world.

“You're awfully good to us, Douglas,” she said, sounding grateful. “This is going to be a fabulous treat for my children. Are you sure you're okay with it?” She knew how he felt about kids.

“They're not four years old,” he said blithely. “I'll be fine. I'll enjoy getting to know them, and spending time with you.” He sounded more relaxed about her children than he had until that point, and Tanya couldn't help wondering if he had really thought about what being around teenagers would be like. He was totally unaccustomed to kids, and claimed he had an aversion to them. She hoped that hers would be an easy adjustment for him.

“I'm going to enjoy spending time with you, too,” she said warmly. It all seemed too good to be true.

“When are you coming home from Marin?” he asked with interest.

“Molly and I are on a four o'clock plane on Sunday. The others are driving down in the morning. I should be back at the hotel by six.”

“Why don't I bring over dinner? Maybe I can figure out something more fun than takeout Chinese. Some curry or Thai food. What do you think?”

“Hot dogs would be fine with me.” She was excited now to see him. Exciting things were starting to happen in her life. He had kissed her, said he loved her, mentioned marriage, and they were going on his boat with him. A lot had happened in only a few days. Her head was spinning, and she felt as though she was trembling on the brink.

“I'll come over around seven. See you then … and Tanya?”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” he said softly, and hung up, as she looked around her room, amazed. How life had changed.

Chapter 18

When Douglas showed up at Bungalow 2 on Sunday night, he was wearing a black cashmere sweater and jeans. He looked relaxed and happy, and had brought several kinds of Indian curry, which smelled delicious when they unpacked them together in the kitchen. Tanya served them on the plates that she had stolen from room service. He kissed her as soon as he walked in, and told her about his weekend. She told him about Marin and the kids, how sad it felt to be there, how empty the house looked when she walked in, like a fallen leaf from a forgotten summer, brittle and dry and faded. It had depressed her to be there, but she loved being with her kids, and it was still home for all of them. And officially for her, too. She admitted to him that she felt homeless now. She no longer knew where she belonged or lived. The bungalow she lived in had become home to her, and she had no painful memories here. It was clean. Peter had only visited her there for two days. The rest of the time it had been entirely hers.

Douglas sat on the couch next to her after dinner, and put an arm around her as they talked. He was far warmer with her than he had ever been before, and it felt like an odd combination between new romance and old friend. There was a lot about it she liked, and it was wonderfully comfortable for her. He was entirely familiar to her, even though they'd never been romantically involved before.

They sat and talked for a long time with his arm around her, and eventually they started to kiss again. His passion for her mounted quickly, and she was surprised to find herself responding to him with equal fire. She had thought all those feelings had died in her when Peter left, and now she was finding they were very much alive. She was slowly discovering that she was powerfully attracted to Douglas. There was something very sensual and male about him that took her breath away now that it was unleashed.

A little while later, they walked into the bedroom, with her bed perfectly turned down. He turned off the lights, and she pulled the bed open, as they both undressed, smiling at each other in the half light. This didn't have the feel of a new love affair, because they knew each other so well. It had more the sense of two people, already comfortable with each other, adding a new facet to what they already shared. She was amazed to find that she was totally at ease with him, and starving for his love and passion. The sex between them was extraordinary, and they made love again before he left at two A.M. It had been an incredible evening, and the relationship that had just begun between them no longer frightened her as it had at first. The sex they shared was powerful and steamy. Douglas was an expert, attentive lover, whose whole focus was on pleasing her. There was something very cerebral about their relationship. She had the feeling that Douglas was always planning and thinking. But everything he planned was to make her happy and pleasure her.

“If I'd known it would be like this,” he said gently, as he kissed her before he left, “I'd have done this a long time ago. I'm sorry I waited.” She laughed and kissed his neck. But they both knew any sooner would have been wrong. He had been smart to wait. The timing was just right. She was ready for him now, ready to try, and start. And even now, it was a challenge not to think of Peter and the years they'd shared. It seemed so odd to Tanya to be in bed with someone else. But by the end of the night, a deeper bond had formed with Douglas. They had crossed the bridge into a whole new world.

He kissed her passionately again before he left, and called her when he got home to tell her he loved her and missed her already. She kept reminding herself of how lucky she was. But for the tiniest of instants, as she lay alone in her bed again, she found herself missing Peter and had tears in her eyes. The sex had been wonderful with Douglas, and he was a thoughtful caring lover of considerable skill, but for sudden, brief, flashing moments, she missed the familiar feel and smell of Peter. It was hard to let go of twenty years. And yet that night a new chapter in her life had begun. She felt swept away by the tides of what she and Douglas had started that night.

They saw each other often after that. He came over almost every night. They made love, read script notes together, discussed the film, ordered room service, and went out to dinner several times. Tanya was happy and comfortable with him, and they were working like demons on the set. They were trying to conduct their affair discreetly, but once in a while their eyes met, and blind people could have seen what was going on. Things were equalizing slowly and Tanya was falling in love with him. He said constantly what a lucky man he was. The part of her life he did not know yet was her children. And it worried her that he looked nervous whenever one of them called. At least they'd have the time on the boat together, and Tanya knew the rest would take time. The boat would be a great start. But for Douglas and Tanya, as a couple, all was going extremely well. Douglas had restored her faith in life, and her severely bruised self-esteem.

The month on the set was insane. She didn't get home to Marin till the twenty-third of December, the same day the kids arrived. So she never had time to open, clean, or air the house. A cleaning service was doing it once a week, but it didn't look the same.

Douglas flew to St. Bart's the same day she went back to Marin. It was a busy night as the kids arrived, their friends showed up, and the next day the house was deadly quiet on Christmas Eve when they went to Peter and Alice. It was hard sharing them. She went to midnight mass alone, and was sad when she got home. It was too late by then to call Douglas on the boat. She sat alone in the living room for a long time, thinking of when her children had been little, and the happy times they'd shared. She had a moment of wanting to call Peter and wish him a merry Christmas, and then knew that she couldn't. It was too late for that, or too soon. They were in the noman's-land of everything being too fresh, and the wounds not having yet healed.

It was a relief the next day when the kids came home. They exchanged presents, had lunch, and finished packing for St. Bart's that night. Molly and Jason were excited, and Megan went back to Peter's after dinner, as the others were leaving early the next morning.

“Sure you don't want to change your mind?” her mother asked her, and Megan shook her head. Cutting off her face to spite her nose, till the end. She had no problem being close to Alice, but still blamed her mother for the divorce.

The three Caribbean travelers left for the airport at six A.M. They were there just before seven, and Douglas's jet took off at eight. They headed for Miami, and landed just after one P.M., four P.M. local time. They refueled and took off again an hour later, after Tanya and the children wandered around the airport for half an hour, to stretch their legs. They reached St. Bart's at eight, Miami time, nine P.M. in St. Bart's, after a harrowing landing, which was standard fare for St. Bart's. There were three of Douglas's crew members waiting in the airport for them. They had been traveling for eleven hours by then. They could never have made the connections in one day, were it not for Douglas's plane. The kids looked impressed when they saw the trim nautical uniforms with the yacht's name. Rêve. It meant “dream” in French. And Tanya felt as though she were living one. She didn't even know what a two-hundred-foot yacht looked like, although she'd seen photographs of his at his house. It was seventy meters and looked nearly like a cruise ship to them when they saw her. None of them had ever seen a boat that big. Rêve was the largest yacht in the port, which was lively and brightly lit. There were little shops all along the quay, and Douglas was standing on deck, waving to them, as they got out of the cab with their bags. He was wearing white jeans, a T-shirt, bare feet, and a deep tan. He beamed the minute he saw them, and Tanya's heart gave a leap. It seemed like a good sign. The children were looking up at the yacht in awe. Tanya would have, too, except her gaze was concentrated on him. They were clearly excited to see each other. This was going to be a fun vacation. She was finally beginning to feel as though she belonged to him. The bonds between them had begun to form and take hold.

The crew members waiting on deck welcomed Tanya and the children to the boat. A stewardess took Molly and Jason to their cabins, which were on a deck below. They disappeared, as Tanya walked up the staircase to the next deck to see him. He instantly put his arms around her and kissed her, and she leaned happily against him. She was becoming deeply attached to him. Her feelings for him had begun to take root, and she was happy to see him, particularly in this exotic, romantic setting, and there was no better place for him to get to know her kids.

“You must be dead after the trip,” he said sympathetically, and then poured her a drink and handed it to her. It was a margarita, which seemed just right in the balmy night. The weather was perfect. She had no idea where the kids were, but they were being served club sandwiches in the dining room, unable to believe the luxury of the boat. There was a crew of fifteen, all visibly anxious to make Tanya and her children feel at home.

“I'm hardly tired,” Tanya commented as she took a sip of the drink and licked the salt gingerly with her tongue. “Your plane is so comfortable and you spoiled us so much, we all feel like we died and went to Heaven. The boat is gorgeous,” she complimented him, and he looked pleased. He had been thinking of her for days and couldn't wait for her to arrive. He was thrilled she was there, although she sensed an invisible tension about him as he smiled at her, as if he wanted to be at ease with her, but something was worrying him. She hoped it wasn't the presence of her children on the boat, and then told herself she was being paranoid. He had been warm and welcoming the moment they arrived. And he was so proud of his boat and of sharing her with Tanya.

“She's pretty, isn't she? I've had her for about ten years and I keep wanting to build a bigger one, but I can't seem to part with this one.” By boat standards, ten years was old. She looked brand-new to Tanya and, like everything else he owned, was in exquisite condition. Douglas liked owning the best of everything, whatever it was. Rêve was no exception.

Tanya sat on the deck and chatted with him in the balmy tropical breeze, and he seemed to relax as they did. A stewardess had handed her a cashmere shawl, and she was eating sushi made from local fish, when Molly and Jason joined them on deck, looking dazed. It was the first time they had met Douglas. They were extremely polite and too awestruck to do much more than say hello. The moment they appeared, Tanya sensed his tension rise again. He looked almost imperceptibly stressed as he glanced at them and then went on talking to Tanya, paying no attention to them, as though he weren't ready to face them yet, so he ignored them instead. He had absolutely no idea what to say to young people their age, and Tanya could see fear in his eyes. They were too tired to notice, and Tanya hoped it would get better after a few days, when they knew each other better. Her kids were easygoing and friendly, and she was proud of them. Douglas looked terrified.

They eventually all went to their cabins around midnight. Molly and Jason sneaked out of their rooms to talk to the crew in the galley. They were delighted to have young people on board. And in the owner's cabin, as Tanya discovered it was called, she took a shower. When she emerged, Douglas was waiting for her with champagne and strawberries. And as soon as they slipped into his bed, he began making love to her. They shared passionate moments in his cabin until daybreak, when they finally fell asleep. She had never gone to check on her kids, but she was sure they were fine and well protected on the boat. She was certain they were having a ball.

When Tanya awoke, Douglas was already up, and she found him sitting on deck in his bathing trunks, looking strained. He smiled as soon as he saw her. She had been woken up by the boat steaming out of port, on the way to find anchor where they could go swimming and take out the Jet Skis. Molly and Jason were sitting with him in silence, and all three of them looked uncomfortable. The kids looked bored, and she could see panic in Douglas's eyes. Her children began giving her pointed looks the moment she sat down with them. She went down to the cabin to put on a bikini shortly afterward, and both of her children appeared moments later to tell her they thought Douglas was weird.

Jason complained instantly. “Mom, I tried to talk to him a few times, and he didn't even answer. He just kept reading his paper.”

“I think he's scared,” Tanya said quietly. “Give him a chance. He's never around kids, and I think they make him nervous.” Tanya looked worried, too.

“I asked him about the boat,” Molly added, “and he told me children should be seen and not heard. And then told Annie the stewardess to take us to the galley and feed us, and not let us mess up the dining room. For chrissake, Mom, he thinks we're six years old.”

“Not with that body, sweetheart,” she said to her daughter, who was dazzling in a bikini top and a thong. She looked gorgeous. “Give him some time. He was nice to have us down here. You guys have only just met. This is hard for him, too.” Tanya wanted so much for it to work, for all of them.

“I think he wants you here, not us. Maybe we should go back,” Molly said, feeling awkward and looking hurt.

“Don't be silly. We're all here to have a good time. We will. You can use the Jet Skis after breakfast.” But when they did, Douglas got upset. He said he didn't want her children to get hurt, and then he made matters worse by saying he didn't want them to sue him if they did, or break the equipment. He finally agreed to let them use the Jet Skis with a crew member driving and them holding on, on the back, although she had assured him that Jason used the same one every summer in Tahoe. But Douglas was a nervous wreck, as he watched Jason show off.

“I've been sued by guests several times,” he explained, looking tense. “Besides, you'd never forgive me if one of your kids got hurt, or worse.” He was alternately either overprotective or curt. He seemed unable to find the right balance in his attitude with them. He was either terrified for their safety or annoyed that they were around. It was obvious to Tanya by then that it had been a mistake to bring them on the trip. Douglas seemed unable to adjust to their presence, or welcome them.

At lunchtime he sent the children to the galley to eat with the crew. He asked them not to use the hot tub unless they had showered and had no sunblock on their skin. And he told Jason absolutely not to use his gym. He said the equipment was delicate, and calibrated just for him. They were allowed to swim in the ocean with a crew member watching but not to lie on the sunbeds, because they had sunblock on, which Tanya insisted on in the bright sun. And they ate dinner at six with the crew. Douglas invited her to go out to dinner in St. Bart's, and he couldn't have been more gracious to her, but he was still tense whenever her kids were near.

“Douglas, they're fine,” she tried to reassure him, but he looked miserable till they got off the Jet Skis and came back on board. He allowed Molly and Jason to do absolutely nothing except eat, sleep, and stay with the crew. He was stressed beyond belief whenever they were around. Fifteen crew members had been assigned to do all in their power to entertain them and keep them away from Tanya and him, and he obviously wanted her to himself. She finally realized that he was jealous of them. Molly and Jason were miserable by the second day and clamoring to go home. She didn't want to be rude and tried getting Douglas to mellow up a bit, explaining that her “children” were really adults and were not used to being treated like little kids. She did everything she could to be a bridge between both camps, to no avail. He wanted to be alone with her, and they hated him.

That night after dinner two of the crew members took Molly and Jason to several bars and a disco club to cheer them up. The two kids came home happy as clams at four A.M., staggering and blind drunk. They had a ball and walked right into Douglas and Tanya's cabin to tell them what a great time they'd had. As they stood there, Molly threw up, and Tanya rushed to clean it up, while Douglas sat up in bed and gagged, with a look of horror.

“Hi, Doug,” Jason greeted him, swaying on his feet, “great ship. We had a blast tonight.”

Douglas was speechless at the sight of them, as Tanya frantically tried to clean the bedroom carpet and made it worse. The smell was awful in the enclosed space. Douglas finally got up and left, and she put her errant children to bed. Douglas spent the night on deck, and an entire crew cleaned his cabin carpet the next day.

“That was an unpleasant little escapade last night, wasn't it?” Douglas commented to her over breakfast. “Do you think children that age should be allowed to drink?” he asked, with obvious disapproval.

“I'm so sorry. They're kids, you know how that is.” She assumed he had once been one himself, even if he had none of his own.

“No, I don't know how that is. Do they do that a lot? Drink to excess, I mean.”

“Sometimes. They're college kids. Molly isn't used to it, which is why she got sick, I think. Jason usually holds his liquor better.”

“Have you thought of putting them in rehab?” he asked, and she realized with horror that he was serious. It was obvious to all by then that he had had no idea what he was doing when he invited them on the trip. Even though his intentions had been good, young people were a terrifying foreign breed to him.

“Of course not,” she answered calmly. “They're fine. They don't need rehab. They only do it once in a while, on vacations. And I think they're as uncomfortable as you are.” It was the first time either of them had acknowledged how ill at ease they all were, particularly their host. They had all wanted it to work, but clearly it wasn't.

“I'm sorry, Tanya. I guess I wasn't up to this. I thought I was.” He looked stiff and stressed, nervous, and disappointed in himself, and Tanya felt sorry for him.

“It was nice of you to try,” she said sadly, and he nodded. He didn't know what else to say.

The kids were a mess when they got up. They were both hung over, and Molly threw up again, this time in her own cabin, and wiped out another carpet, much to her mother and the crew's dismay. They managed to keep it from Douglas this time. Molly felt particularly guilty, as she was aware of the tension between Douglas and her mother, and knew that they were causing it. He looked like he hated having them on the boat. She couldn't figure out why he had asked them, except to please their mother. Their mother was a nervous wreck, trying to keep them happy and out of his hair. It had become abundantly obvious by then that he had only invited them as a courtesy to her. He clearly had no intention of getting to know them, and had no idea how to relate to them.

Douglas took her out to dinner again that night, and did not invite her children. He just couldn't cope with them. He didn't know how to speak to them, or what to say, and by then he was too unnerved to try. He felt completely unable to bond with them. Tanya didn't even mention it at dinner, after the fiasco of the night before. The kids were getting on famously with the crew at least, and hanging out with them, but she had barely seen her kids. And it was no vacation for her, worrying about the growing awkwardness and animosity between Douglas and her children. This had not been her plan or his.

The topper came on New Year's Eve, when the kids went ashore with several crew members, all of whom got drunk along with them, and the entire group got brought back by the police, who turned them over to the captain rather than put them in jail. Tanya put her kids to bed, apologizing to Douglas again.

“It is New Year's Eve, after all.” She and Douglas had been drinking champagne on the deck and kissing when the police van arrived with everyone singing loudly. Douglas was clearly not amused, at his crew members either.

“Your kids are corrupting my crew,” he complained, although his crew had been far more inebriated than her kids. “I think they all got drunk together,” she said calmly. She didn't like it either, but the trip was such a disaster by then that there was nothing she could do or say to salvage it. He hadn't had a single meal with them and barely spoke to them, and it was obvious that he regretted inviting them. He was crazy about Tanya, but not her children, and it had been a miserable vacation for her. All she wanted was for all of them to get along. And she knew her kids had hated every minute of the trip, and so had he.

Even their departure from the boat was an unhappy one. Molly and Jason were so hung over they looked grim when they left for his plane the next morning. Douglas observed both of them with a miserable expression and said he hoped they'd have a better trip next time. He mumbled something about not being used to kids, and they thanked him politely and left. Douglas looked enormously relieved as soon as they were gone. Tanya looked heartbroken as he put an arm around her with an apologetic look.

“I'm sorry, darling,” he said, kissing her as she looked up at him sadly. “I don't know what to say to you, Tanya. I think I panicked. Having them on the boat was harder than I expected.” That much was obvious, but Tanya couldn't imagine how it would get better in the future. He was obviously terrified of children, and had an aversion to them, just as he had warned her from the first. She was so disappointed at how it had turned out, and she knew Molly and Jason were, too. Their vacation on Douglas's yacht had been a nightmare. Tanya was really sorry she'd put them through it. It was going to be nearly impossible now to convince them that Douglas was the man for her. And she had serious questions about it herself. It was essential to her that he get along with her children, which was clearly impossible for him.

“Can you ever forgive me for handling this so badly?” he asked her with a worried look.

“Of course. I just want you all to get to know each other and be friends.”

“Maybe we'll do better with that back home. I was terrified they'd get hurt while they were on the boat.”

“I understand,” Tanya said, wanting to put it behind them, but she knew she'd hear about it from her kids for a long time. The trip had been a disappointment for all concerned.

She tried to relax once the kids left, but it took her two days to stop worrying about the chasm between Douglas and her children. She knew it would take time, maybe a long time, to resolve.

And then finally they had four idyllic days on the boat alone, drifting from island to island, swimming, eating on deck, relaxing, and making love. It was the perfect vacation he had wanted. Theirs was an adult relationship, which left little or no room for her kids, and she had no idea if that would change, unless Douglas warmed up to them. There had been no sign of that while Molly and Jason were on the boat. She had apologized to them again, in several phone calls since, and they said they understood. But even Tanya wasn't sure she did. Douglas was not an easy man to understand.

The rest of the trip went smoothly, and she flew home to Los Angeles with Douglas on his plane. He slept while she worked on the script, and he took her back to the bungalow when they arrived. But she was sad. The attempt to introduce him to her children had been a disaster, even if she had had a nice time on the boat with him afterward. But their time alone wasn't enough for her to make a life with him. Her kids meant everything to her. She was seriously worried about her future with Douglas now. The potential for having a serious relationship with him had drastically diminished, given his behavior toward Jason and Molly on the boat, and his inability to adjust to them.

“I'm going to miss you tonight,” he said, kissing her before he left. He seemed oblivious to how upset she was. Unlike Tanya, he had stopped thinking about her children as soon as they left the boat.

“Me too,” she said quietly, and after he left the bungalow, she sat down on her bed and burst into tears. There was so much about Douglas she liked, but this piece was crucial to her. For whatever reason, he was impossible with her kids. There was no hiding from it. Just as he had said to her in the beginning, he had a profound aversion to children. Even hers. Or maybe especially hers. The only thing he wanted was to be alone with her. And to Tanya, she and her children were a package deal. They were a package, and a gift, which he was both unwilling and unable to accept, which changed everything for her.

Chapter 19

For the rest of January, Tanya tried to overlook what had happened on the boat. Her kids had commented on it several times, and she apologized again. She asked them to give him another chance at some point, and she'd talk to him, and try to straighten things out.

Otherwise, the relationship was perfect. He was wonderful to her. He spoiled her, he was attentive, he was thoughtful and kind. He brought her gifts, took her to dinner, was respectful of her work. The only thing that bothered her was that he had a tendency to make decisions for her. He thought she needed an air filter in her room, and had one set up without asking her. She knew he meant well, but the sound it made disturbed her while she was writing. He planned a vacation for the two of them at Easter, on the boat again. He didn't ask her, he just planned it and told her. She explained that she couldn't leave her children then, and they had plans to go to Hawaii. He told her to let them go, and she could come with him on the boat. They didn't exist for him. And when she caught a nasty sinus infection in February, he called his doctor, and got an antibiotic for her, without asking if she wanted one. He meant well, but he was controlling and high-handed, and had declared a cold war on her children. It was not a small problem for her. She felt constantly stressed now, although there were aspects of the relationship she loved, his fine mind, his culture, his profound admiration of her writing. She loved his sensitivity when he played the piano. The way they made love, well and often. He was a deeply caring lover, even more so than Peter, and the sex was fabulous between them. He played her body like a harp. But it was an entirely adult relationship, which in no way included her kids.

And it became more and more obvious to her that it never would. He wanted her to sell the house in Marin, and move in with him in L.A. He wanted to get married that summer, and spend a two-month honeymoon on his boat in France. She asked him what he thought she would do with her children during that time. He looked blank, and suggested she send them to their father. He did not understand that she loved being with them, too, not just him. She was not trading them for him. She needed both.

They wrapped Gone at the end of February, and she stayed on for two months of postproduction, as planned. They finished the week of the Academy Awards. Their previous film, Mantra, had been nominated in five categories, including Best Film, although she hadn't been nominated for the screenplay. He told her with absolute certainty that her winning film would be Gone.

She had promised to go to the awards with him, which was exciting for her. She had bought a dress at Valentino, and he had hair and makeup artists from the set do her face and hair. She looked spectacular when they got out of the limousine. Her dress was a shimmery pale silver, and she looked like a Greek goddess on his arm. She knew her children were watching for her on TV, in their dorms, and she waved. It was a long, tiring night sitting through the awards, and disappointing for him since Mantra didn't win for Best Film. His face was stoic, but she could see the muscles working in his jaw when another film was called for the award. He looked angry for the rest of the night. Douglas didn't lose easily.

She could see now what Max had said to her from the beginning. Douglas was all about power and control. He was addicted to both. Being with him would mean that he would always be controlling her, making decisions for her, and excluding her kids. She knew she couldn't do it, no matter how good the rest was. She was thinking about it, her head bowed, as they walked along the red carpet again on the way out.

They were scheduled to attend half a dozen parties that night, but Douglas's heart wasn't in it, since they hadn't won an award. He was programmed for victory and success. Anything less than that was a narcissistic injury he couldn't tolerate. Douglas had to win, he had to have the power and control at all times, even over her. It made her sad thinking about it, because there was a lot about him she liked. But not enough. Even if the sex was great, even if he loved her and wanted to marry her, she needed a more normal life than he could ever offer her, and one that included her kids. His life just didn't, and never would. It was clear to her now. And whatever feelings she'd had for him began to die like flowers in snow.

“Depressing, isn't it?” he asked her, as they drove back to the hotel. Before, he had wanted her to go home with him. Now he didn't. With no Oscar in his hand that night, he wanted to be alone. “I hate losing,” he said through clenched teeth as they drove to the Beverly Hills Hotel, and got out. He was going to take her to her door and go home alone. He was being an incredibly bad sport.

He walked her to the door of her bungalow, and she looked at him sadly after he kissed her. She could have waited, and she felt cruel adding to tonight's woes. But she knew so clearly now what this was and what it wasn't. In a funny way, he wanted her as a trophy. The star screenwriter whom he thought would win an Oscar next year. And what if she didn't? It was all about that with him, and nothing real. To Douglas, winning was all.

“Douglas, I can't do this anymore,” she said in a small, apologetic voice. He looked so angry he almost frightened her. He was so upset they didn't win. She'd seen Max at the Oscars, and he looked disappointed, too. But he had still managed to shrug and grin and give her a warm hug. There was life beyond the movie business for him. But not for Douglas. This was all there was.

“Can't do what?” He looked at her blankly. He didn't understand what she was saying. It had looked so hopeful for a while, to both of them. Now all she wanted was to get away, and go back to Marin, where life was real. “Do what? Lose on Oscar night? Yeah, me too. Don't worry, Tanya. We'll win next year for sure.”

“I didn't mean that,” she said, looking at him sadly. “I need a relationship that includes my kids. This one never will.” Time stood still for a long minute as he stared at her.

“Are you serious? You told me they were adults.”

“They're eighteen and nineteen. I'm not ready to let go of them yet. They're going to be around a lot for a few more years, during vacations at least. I like it that way. They'll always be an important part of my life. I can't shut them out to be with you.”

“What are you saying to me then?” He looked stunned. It had never occurred to him that she would do something like this. He couldn't help wondering if she would have done it if he'd had the Oscar in his hand. Probably not, he told himself. Winning was everything, and she knew it, too. There was nothing worse than the smell of defeat around a man.

“I'm saying that I can't do this anymore,” she said clearly, in a small sad voice. She was shaking, but he didn't see it. This was hard for her. “It doesn't work for me or my kids.” He nodded then, backed away from her, swept her a small bow, turned on his heel, and walked away without another word. She stood looking after him, sad for him, and sadder for herself. She knew he really didn't understand. Maybe he had loved her, to the best of his ability. But even if he had, he would never have loved her kids. And that was too important to her to give up for an Oscar, or any man.

She let herself into her bungalow then. Her bags were packed. The movie was over. She had stayed for the Academy Awards for him. Her kids were coming home for the summer in two weeks. For the second time in a year, she was checking out of Bungalow 2 the next day. It was time to fold up the circus tent and go home.

Chapter 20

The house looked even more depressing than usual when she got back to Marin the next day. The couch looked tired, the carpet was worn. She saw that there had been a couple of leaks around the windows from one of the winter storms. The weather was beautiful, and it was warm at least. She made a list of the things she needed to replace and fix. She wanted to spruce up the house before the kids got home.

She hadn't heard a word from Douglas since the night before, and she knew she never would. What she had said to him was too big for him to deal with, and his own sense of loss over not winning the award the night before was going to paralyze him for a while. He would never have included her children in his life. Whether he admitted it to her or not, they both knew it wouldn't work. Their lives and values were too different and nothing would ever change. She had come home for good this time. She was sure he wouldn't ask her to do another movie. And she didn't want to now. She wanted to go back to her short stories, her quiet life in Marin, and being with her children whenever they came home. She had a book in mind, another anthology of short stories. She was looking forward to being home, staying home, wearing jeans and T-shirts, and rarely combing her hair. It sounded good to her. She had been gone for twenty months, in the madness of Hollywood. It was time to come home and settle down. She was through with L.A.

The children came home two weeks later. They got summer jobs, they saw their friends, they had barbecues. Tanya wrote in the early mornings, and hung out with them when they were in the mood. She and Megan made friends again. Alice had tried to come between her and her father, and Megan felt betrayed. Tanya knew Alice's betrayals well.

Peter and Alice got married that summer, in a ceremony on Mount Tam. Tanya's children were there, and she spent the day alone at Stinson Beach, looking out at the sea, thinking of the years she had spent with Peter, and their own wedding day. She felt as though a part of her had died the day he married Alice. She felt as though she finally buried what had been dead for a long time. In an odd way, it was a relief.

They went to Tahoe in August, and at the end of the summer the children went back to their colleges, and Tanya hunkered down in earnest to work on her book. She'd been at it for a week when her agent called. He said he had a fantastic offer for her, and she laughed.

“Nope,” she said, grinning, as she turned her computer off. She had absolutely no interest in whatever he had to say. She was finished with L.A. She'd done two movies, learned some things, had a romance with one of the biggest producers in L.A., and come home again. She wasn't leaving now for anyone or anything, and surely not for a movie offer. She had been there, done that. She was all through. She spelled it out to him in no uncertain terms.

“Don't be like that, Tanya. Let me at least tell you what it is first.”

“Nope. Don't care. I'm not doing movies anymore. I did one more than I said I would. I'm done. I'm sitting here working on a book.” She sounded peaceful, happy, and pleased with herself.

“Good. That's wonderful. I'm proud of you. Now put it aside for a few minutes and listen to what I have to say. Gordon Hawkins. Maxwell Ernst. Sharon Upton. Shalom Kurtz. Happy Winkler. Tippy Green. Zoe Flane. And Arnold Win. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, baby.” He had caught her attention, but she didn't know what he meant. He had rattled off the names of some of the biggest stars in Hollywood.

“So?” She sounded blasé.

“So my ass. Is that the most star-studded cast you ever heard? Those are the names of the actors in the film they want you for. Some nut down there has fallen in love with your work, and says name your price. What's more, it's a comedy. You're good at that shit. It'll be fun to write. And they're doing this one fast and dirty. This is no epic about suicide where they make the actors bleed for eighteen hours onstage. They want to spend two months doing this film. They'll start in December. Preproduction in two weeks. Another month to clean it up afterward. You're done in February, tops. And you have a hell of a good time, make a hell of a lot of money, as I do off your back, thank you very much,” he said, and she laughed. “All expenses paid, and they'll give you Bungalow 2. I told them that was part of the deal, and they said fine. Am I good to you or what?”

“Shit, Walt. I don't want to go back to L.A. I'm happy here.” Not happy maybe, but peaceful, and doing good work.

“Bullshit. You're depressed. I can hear it in your voice. Your nest is empty. Your husband's gone. Your house is too big for you. You don't have a boyfriend that I know of. You're writing depressing stories. Hell, I'm getting depressed just thinking about it. It'll be good therapy for you to write a comedy in L.A. Besides, no one does funny like you.”

“Oh come on, Walt …” She hesitated. It was such a stupid thing to do. This was her real life. That wasn't.

“Listen, I need the money. So do you.” She laughed at what he said. The only thing that tempted her was the cast, the names were in fact incredible, and comedy was fun to write. It was a short shooting schedule, but still. She hated to go back even to Bungalow 2. It was becoming her second home. But she did have friends in L.A. now, more than she did in Marin. Everyone in Ross acted as though she were from outer space. She had become an alien being as Douglas had predicted she would. No one called her to invite her to anything anymore, they were used to her being gone. They made comments about how fancy she was now, how she had outgrown Marin. Peter and Alice had corralled her entire social life. She was totally isolated now, much more so than in L.A., especially working on a film. At least then she would see people and have some fun. Walt was right about that.

“Oh shit,” Tanya said, laughing. “I can't believe you're doing this to me. I said no more films.”

“Yeah, I know. Just like I say no more blondes. I married another one last year. Now she's pregnant with twins. Some things don't change.”

“I hate you.”

“Great. I hate you, too. So go do this movie. You'll have a ball. If nothing else, it's worth it just to meet the cast. I want to visit you on the set on this one.”

“What makes you think I'll do it?”

“I reserved Bungalow 2 for you today, just in case. So?”

“Okay, okay, I'll do it … when do I get the rough notes for the script?”

“Tomorrow. I FedExed it to you today.”

“Don't tell them yes till I see it.” She was a pro at this now.

“Of course not,” he said, sounding businesslike and official. “What kind of agent do you think I am?”

“A damned pushy one. I'm telling you though, Walt, this is the last movie I'm doing. After this I'm only doing books.”

“Okay, okay. At least you'll have a good time doing this one. You'll laugh your ass off all the way back to Marin.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking around her kitchen. She couldn't believe she was about to agree to do another movie. But as she looked around and listened to the silence in the house, she knew that he was right, and there was nothing for her here anymore. The spirit and purpose of her life in Marin were long gone. Peter was with Alice, and her kids were on their own. There was nothing here for her.

She read the concept the next day, and the rough notes they'd sent her. The story was hysterical, it had her laughing out loud, sitting in her kitchen. And the cast was beyond belief. She called Walt as soon as she finished reading.

“Okay, I'll do it. Last one, though. You got that?”

“Okay, okay, Tan. Last one. Go for it! Have a ball with this!”

She turned up at the Beverly Hills Hotel two weeks later, and checked into Bungalow 2. She felt like a boomerang by now. She kept coming back to the same place. Like a bad penny that kept turning up. She rearranged the furniture the way she liked it, put out the photographs of the children, got in the tub and turned on the Jacuzzi, and then sat smiling to herself. It felt good. It was like coming home.

She was at the studio promptly at nine o'clock the next day, and then the fun began. There didn't seem to be a member of the cast who wasn't utterly insane. They had brought the cast in first for notes on this one. Every major comedian in the business was in it, of every race, sex, shape, and size. They were funny just talking to them. None of them could focus for more than five minutes. They tried out lines on her constantly. She couldn't even imagine trying to get them to learn the ones she wrote. She felt like she had accepted an assignment in an insane asylum, but the inmates were so damned funny and fun to be with, she didn't stop laughing all day. She hadn't had this much fun in years. All but one of the stars had come in to see her that day. The last one was flying in from Europe that night, and coming in to see her the next day. He was their main star, and he was fabulously good-looking as well as funny. She had met him once with Douglas, and he seemed very nice.

It was odd not to be seeing Douglas now that she was back in L.A. She hadn't heard from him in five months, and it would have been awkward if she'd called. So she didn't. It had ended badly and in silence.

She worked on the script that night, and found that the story came easily, the lines were fun to write. She could imagine each of them in their characters. It was going to be one of the funniest movies in years. Who cared if she won an Oscar? She was going to have a ton of fun working on the film. She already was. Two of the actors called her that night, and had her in hysterics. She laughed out loud herself at lines she wrote. She couldn't wait to try them out on them the next day. Her meeting with Gordon Hawkins, their big star, was set for ten o'clock the following morning.

She was sitting in the conference room, drinking tea, with her feet on the table, when he walked in. She'd been talking and laughing and horsing around with one of the other stars. Hawkins walked over to where she was sitting, and sat down next to her.

“I'm glad you're not killing yourself on this,” he said seeming sincere, and then took her tea, sipped it and made a face. “You need sugar in that. Look, I just got off a plane from Paris. I'm tired. I'm sick. My hair is a mess. I'm not feeling funny. They're not paying me enough to take meetings when I have jet lag, so I'm going to my hotel. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be much funnier with some sleep. I'll give you my notes then.” He stood up, took another sip of her tea, shook his head, poured it out, and walked out of the room, while she grinned.

“I take it that's our star. Where's he staying?”

“The Beverly Hills. Bungalow 6. He always stays there. It has his name on it.”

“We're neighbors,” she said to a production assistant. “I'm 2.”

“Watch out. He's hell on wheels.” There were already bets placed as to which of the other stars he'd sleep with. He got involved with his costars on every movie. And it was easy to see why. He was one of the most beautiful men Tanya had ever seen. He was forty-five years old, had jet-black hair, blue eyes, a gorgeous body, and a smile that just didn't quit.

“I think I'm safe,” Tanya said as they all talked about him. “I think the last girl I read about him going out with was twenty-two.”

“No woman is safe with Gordon. He gets engaged on every picture. He's never gotten married yet. But he gets a hell of a lot of press out of it, and gives them gorgeous rings.”

“Do they have to give them back?”

“Probably. I think he borrows them.”

“Damn. I thought maybe I could at least get a ring out of it,” Tanya said with a grin, and then looked around. “Shit, he threw out my tea.” Someone gave her another cup, and the meeting went on from there. It was a day of banter and joking, figuring out who was comfortable saying what, and then going back to her bungalow and writing. She was still working at midnight, cackling to herself, when she heard a knock on her door. She opened it with a pencil in her hair and another in her teeth. It was Gordon Hawkins. He handed her a cup of tea.

“Try this. It's a brand I always carry with me. I get it in Paris, and it won't jangle your nerves. That stuff you were drinking this morning was shit.” She grinned and took a sip as he walked in. “Why is your bungalow bigger than mine?” he asked, looking around. “I'm much more famous than you are.”

“That's true. Maybe I have a better agent,” she suggested, as he sprawled out on the couch and turned on the TV. He was obviously crazy, but she loved it. He looked like a wild Irishman with his cornflower blue eyes and jet-black hair, as he dangled his feet off the end of the couch. He set the TiVo for two of his favorite shows while she laughed at him. He had a lot of nerve, but he was funny to be around. Just watching him made her laugh. He had a great deadpan face, and a funny expression in his eyes.

“I'll come in and watch my shows with you here,” he said comfortably. “I don't have TiVo in my room. I think I have to fire my agent. Who's yours?”

“Walt Drucker.”

He nodded. “He's good. I saw a soap you wrote once. It sucked, but it made me cry anyway. I don't want to cry in this movie,” he warned her. He looked about thirty-five, and acted about fourteen.

“You won't. I promise. I was working on it when you walked in. Thanks for the tea, by the way.” She took another sip. It was good. It tasted of vanilla, and the tag was French.

“Have you had dinner?” She shook her head. “Me neither. I'm on another time zone. I think it's breakfast time for me.” He checked his watch. “Yup. Nine-thirty A.M. in Paris. I'm starving. Do you want to have breakfast with me? We can charge it to your room.” He reached for the room service menu, called them, and ordered pancakes. He suggested she have French toast or an omelette so they could share. And she found herself doing what he said. She had no idea why, but he had that kind of effect on her. He was so crazy, he made you want to play with him. But she knew he was a very good actor, too. She was excited to be working with him.

They munched their way through pancakes, French toast, and several Danish pastries, fruit salad, and orange juice for two. It was the craziest meal she'd ever had, while he discussed the comparative virtues of Burger King versus McDonald's.

“I eat at McDonald's a lot in Paris,” he explained. “They call it Mac Do there. I stay at the Ritz.”

“I haven't been to Paris in years.”

“You should go. It would do you good.” He lay back down on the couch again then, exhausted from their feast, and then he picked his head up and looked at her with interest. “Do you have a boyfriend?” She wondered if he was taking a poll or checking her out for himself.

“No.” She didn't elaborate.

“Why not?”

“I'm divorced and have three kids.”

“I'm divorced and have five kids, all with different mothers. Long relationships bore me.”

“So I hear.”

“Ah, so they warned you. What did they say? Probably that I get engaged on every picture. Sometimes I just do it for publicity. You know how that is.” She nodded, wondering just how crazy he really was. She was getting sleepy. It was nearly two, and he was going full steam ahead, wide awake, on Paris time. She was on L.A. time, and about to fall asleep. He noticed her yawning and sat up. “Are you tired?”

“Kind of,” she admitted. “We have early meetings tomorrow,” she reminded him.

“Okay.” He stood up, looking like a tall, gangly kid. He couldn't find one shoe, and then finally did. “Get some sleep.” He waved at her from the door, and then went back to his own bungalow, while she stood there and grinned. The phone rang almost immediately, It was Gordon again. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said politely. “It was delicious, and you're fun to talk to.”

“Thank you. So are you. And breakfast was good.”

“Next time we can have it in my room,” he offered, and she laughed.

“You don't have TiVo.”

“Damn. That's right. I'm calling my agent tomorrow to complain. Do me a favor, wake me tomorrow, will you? What time do you get up?”

“Seven.”

“Call me when you leave.”

“Goodnight, Gordon,” she said firmly. He could have called the operator for a wake-up call. She should have made him, but he was so damned charming and flaky, he was hard to resist. She felt as though she had adopted a little kid.

“Goodnight, Tanya. Sleep tight. See you tomorrow.” With that, she hung up. She was still smiling about him as she turned off the lights, put on her nightgown, climbed into bed, and went to sleep. She was thinking about him as she drifted off. This movie was going to be fun to do. For once, Walt was right.

Chapter 21

The set of the movie Tanya was working on was in almost constant bedlam. With a dozen comedians involved, a funny story, and a comedic script, they could hardly keep straight faces to say their lines. There were a million outtakes that were even funnier than the movie. The director was hysterical, the producer was a good guy. The cameramen were funny. And Tanya had a great time writing the script. It almost wrote itself. She loved going to work every day and telling her kids about it. Molly came to visit her once and loved it. She thought Gordon Hawkins was gorgeous, and so did everyone else. He and Tanya were fast friends by the second week of shooting. She could see him checking all the women out, trying to decide which one he wanted. Movie sets were like a supermarket for him. There were no great beauties on this movie. But there were some very nice, smart women who knew better than to get involved with him. He was coming up dry on this one, which was unheard of for him.

He was lying on Tanya's couch, watching TV one night, while she was making script changes. He had just eaten his way through two hamburgers and a milk shake. In spite of that, he was relatively thin. He was a bottomless pit. He worked it off in the gym. “Do I look older to you, Tanya?” he asked, looking worried.

“Older than what?” She was busy and not paying attention. He talked a lot. And he hung out on her couch constantly. He was bored and lonely, and he liked her.

“Older than I used to look,” he explained, changing channels for the fiftieth time in an hour. He channel-surfed constantly. Whenever she saw something she would have liked to watch, it vanished instantly. It was a lot like being married.

“I wouldn't know. I just met you. I don't know how old you used to look.”

“That's true. There are no decent women on this picture. It's very depressing. They should have hired one for me.”

“From what I've heard, you do fine on your own,” she reminded him, and he shook his head vehemently.

“That's bullshit. I always get involved with the women I work with. I can never meet women outside work.”

“You may have to make a supreme effort and try this time,” she told him, and turned her computer off. It was too distracting to work with him in the room. Besides, he was fun to talk to.

“That sucks,” he said in answer to what she'd just told him. “What about you? You're a damned fine-looking woman.”

“Thank you.” She took what he said with a grain of salt. She told him regularly that he was full of shit, which he readily admitted was true.

“Do you like me?” he asked her with a look of innocence, and she laughed at him. They were rapidly becoming friends, hopefully for longer than just this movie. She really liked him. He was a nice guy, and fun to be around, even if silly. He was harmless, and underneath the craziness was a nice person. And he seemed to love his kids, and even his ex-wives and ex-girlfriends. And more important, they loved him.

“I like you very much,” she said honestly. “Are you having some kind of insecurity crisis? Should I call your shrink?”

“No, he's in Mexico on vacation. I must pay him too much. I like you, too. Maybe you and I should go out during this picture.”

“Are you nuts? I'm twice the age of the women you go out with. Besides, I don't want to get engaged unless I can keep the ring.”

“That's annoying,” he said, looking thoughtful. “We could go out and not get engaged. That's a better deal for me.”

“Or not go out, and say we did,” she teased him, as he sat up on the couch suddenly, looking like he'd been struck by lightning.

“Christ, I think I have the hots for you, Tanya. I mean it. It just occurred to me.”

“You're probably just hungry. Call room service.”

“No, I'm serious. You turn me on. I just realized it. You're very funny. You're smart, and you're sexy as hell.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are. I think smart women are very sexy.”

“I'm not your type,” she reminded him, unimpressed by his discovery. He was just shooting off his mouth, but it was fun listening to him. She enjoyed him. And looking at him was certainly a treat.

“No, you're not my type,” he agreed. “I usually go for dumber women with bigger boobs. Am I your type?” he asked with interest.

“Not at all,” she reassured him. “I like them older and more serious. Kind of preppy. My husband was an attorney.”

“I'm definitely not your type,” he said, appearing both thunderstruck and delighted. “Do you know what that means?” he said, visibly thrilled.

“Yes, that we won't be dating,” she laughed at him. “I can figure that much out.”

“No, when people aren't each other's type, they get married. When they're each other's type, they have a hot affair and fuck it up just like they always did. It's the ones who aren't your type that you're supposed to marry. None of my wives were my type,” he said, as though to prove the point.

“And you're not married to them anymore. So much for that idea.”

“Yeah, but I still love them, and they love me. I think they're terrific.”

“You've finally convinced me, Gordon. You're certifiably crazy. Maybe you should go out on disability.”

“No, I mean it. I want to date you. We don't have to get engaged or married, if you don't want to. Let's just try it and see what happens.”

“My children would kill me if I married you,” she said, laughing. Actually Molly had thought he was fantastic and the funniest man she'd ever met. Tanya was inclined to agree. But that didn't make him dating material, just amusing to be with.

“My children would love you,” he said seriously. “So what do you think?”

“I think it's time for you to go back to your room. It must be time for your medication or something. Or mine, if you hang around here much longer with crazy ideas like that.” With that, he got up off the couch, walked to where she was sitting, and kissed her, gently, on the mouth, like a real kiss. She looked at him in astonishment, as though he had done something truly outrageous, which he had. But he was so persistent, and so insanely sexy, that she found herself kissing him back, and wondering why she did. And then he kissed her again. He was a hell of a good kisser.

“See what I mean? You're not my type, but you turn me on like crazy, Tanya.”

“You turn me on, too,” she admitted, looking dazed. “Look, Gordon, this is not a good idea. Let's not do something really stupid. Let's be friends.”

“Let's fall in love. It's more fun,” he suggested.

“It'll be a mess if we do.”

“No, it won't. I'm telling you, we could end up getting married.”

“No, we won't!” she said emphatically.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I won't mention marriage. Let's go to bed with each other,” he said, as he put an arm around her and continued to kiss her. But it was too much fun to stop. They were both loving it. He was the sexiest man Tanya had ever met, as well as the funniest. It was an unbeatable combination, and nearly impossible to resist, although she was trying, and not getting anywhere. He wouldn't stop kissing her.

“I won't go to bed with you either,” she said, sounding outraged.

He didn't argue with her, but half an hour later, they did. Tanya was horrified afterward and couldn't believe she'd done it.

“You're a lunatic, Gordon Hawkins,” she said, lying in bed with their arms around each other. They'd had fun, and he was sweet, and he said he loved her body. He was fabulous in bed.

“You're gorgeous, Tanya,” he said, nuzzling her like a big puppy. He was so gentle and affectionate, it was delicious. She loved being with him, and making love with him had been extremely nice.

“Go to your room, Gordon,” she said, and tried to sound as though she meant it, but she didn't, and he didn't move an inch. He stayed in her bed, holding her all night. They made love two more times and slept like children. They woke up the next day with the sun streaming into the room, and took a shower together. They had breakfast in her room, and then he went back to his to get dressed. They left for the studio together, as Tanya looked at him in amazement. She couldn't believe she had slept with him, but she wasn't unhappy about it, even if she thought she should be.

“So what is this?” she asked him as they drove to the studio. “Your affair for the movie? How crazy is that?”

“Maybe it could be forever,” he said hopefully. “You never know. I'd like it to be. I like you a lot, Tanya.”

“I like you, too, Gordon,” she said softly, wondering to herself what she was doing. She had no idea. But whatever it was, it wasn't hurting anyone and she was having a good time. How bad could that be?

Chapter 22

Tanya's affair with Gordon Hawkins while they worked on the movie together was possibly one of the craziest things she'd ever done. It felt like it, it looked like it, and it seemed like it. But she'd never had so much fun in her life. And the script was like silk to write.

He sat in her bungalow at night, watching television, while she tried out ideas on him. Some he thought were funny, some he didn't. But he always came up with great suggestions for her. She was thrilled with what was happening with the script, and even more so with what was happening with him. She could see why he had been married so often, and had so many girlfriends. Gordon was wonderful to women and genuinely liked them. He had no chip on his shoulder, no ax to grind. He was just a truly nice person, who loved being with her. And when Megan and Jason came down from Santa Barbara to visit her on the set, he was wonderful to them, and they fell in love with him. They begged her to invite Gordon to Marin over the break.

“I'm sure he has better things to do.” Tanya tried to discourage them. There was nothing serious about what was happening. She didn't want them getting too attached to him. But when she finally got up the guts to suggest it to him, he thought it was a terrific idea. He suggested they stay for a few days, and then all go skiing together. He said he'd like nothing better than spending a week with her and her kids.

She couldn't believe her eyes the day he arrived in Marin. His hair was sticking up straight, he was wearing jeans and a turtleneck, and he had four giant suitcases with him, loaded with his gear. He was beaming from ear to ear and swung her around her kitchen as the kids watched with amusement. He looked like he was moving in, which would have delighted them.

He took all of them out to dinner that night, Tanya, her kids, and half a dozen of their friends. He made popcorn for everyone afterward, and finally after everyone else had gone to bed, he helped Tanya clean up, and followed her upstairs to bed.

“I love this house,” he said happily, “and your kids are so great.” She was beginning to wonder if she had finally lucked out, and found the man of her dreams, or if he came from another planet. Maybe both.

The next morning she went grocery shopping with him, and they both laughed as people stopped to stare when they recognized him.

“My God, I think that's Gordon Hawkins,” one woman whispered to another at the checkout counter, as he continued to juggle cans of chili she had bought for Jason. He enjoyed whatever he was doing, and whoever he was with. He was the easiest person to be with she had ever met in her life. And by the time they got to Tahoe to go skiing, she was really beginning to wonder if she was in love with him. It was impossible not to be. There was nothing about him you couldn't love, and he was incredibly kind to Tanya and her children.

He was also a nearly Olympic-class skier. He and Jason made endless runs down the mountain, on all the hardest trails. He showed the girls some new techniques, and then skied sedately for a while with Tanya. There seemed to be nothing he couldn't do. And he caused a sensation in the restaurants they went to at night. Everybody recognized him, wanted autographs, stopped to talk to him, and felt as though they'd made a new friend when they walked away. Tanya knew what a big star he was, but she didn't get a sense of it until people begged him constantly to pose for photographs with them.

“Good lord, Gordon, everybody on the planet knows you.”

“I hope so.” He grinned at her happily. Tanya looked just as happy as he did, and so did her kids. “If they didn't, I'd be out of a job. They would never have hired me for the picture we're working on, and I would never have met you, or your kids. So it's a damned good thing they all know me.” It made sense.

They all hated to leave Tahoe after five days, especially her kids. It was a far cry from the vacation she, Molly, and Jason had taken the year before on Douglas's yacht. What a misery that had been for them. And what a joy this was for them all. It was particularly fun because Gordon had such a good time himself. He was always in a good mood, loved everyone he met, and enjoyed everything he did. It was hard to beat. And Tanya didn't try. She no longer asked herself what the relationship was about, what it meant, or where it was going. She was enjoying the hell out of it, and she let it go at that. So did Gordon. He had even stopped saying that she wasn't his type. They were all sorry when the vacation came to an end, and they had to close the house in Marin again and head south.

She and Gordon looked sad when they were back in her bungalow that night.

“I miss your kids,” he said miserably. “They're so great.”

“I miss them, too.” They called them all after that, and some of his. She hadn't met any of his children yet, but he was promising to introduce her soon. His were younger than hers, and ranged from twelve to five. He'd been busy, since he had five, all with different women, as he had told her in the beginning. But he was on good terms with all of his children's mothers. Everyone loved Gordon, even after their romances with him were over. He didn't have a mean bone in his body.

The movie they were working on ended in February, as planned. Gordon had no set plans after that, and he stayed in her bungalow with her till the end of March, while she worked on postproduction, and he hung around and visited friends.

She stayed on after that for another week, at her own expense, into early April, so they could go to the Academy Awards together. She was nominated for the script for Gone, just as Douglas had predicted she would be. The film was nominated for nine Academy Awards. Gordon had never won any, but he was thrilled for her and excited to be going with her. She got seats for her kids, and the five of them were going together. It was a major event for her. Gordon went shopping with her to buy a dress, and talked her into a halfnaked incredibly sexy pale pink Valentino. She looked like a movie star in it. Both girls came to L.A. to shop for the event.

On the night of the Academy Awards, Tanya put on the pale pink Valentino. She had her hair and makeup done, and wore towering silver Manolo Blahnik sandals. The girls looked beautiful, too, in fairy-princess gauzy pastel dresses they had found at Marc Jacobs, and Gordon and Jason looked handsome in their tuxes. They were a striking-looking group as they started their odyssey on the red carpet. Tanya had her hand tucked into Gordon's arm, and a wall of photographers stopped them immediately to take pictures. For the first time in her life, Tanya felt like a star. She turned and grinned sheepishly at her children, as they beamed at her, obviously and justifiably proud, even Megan. She was over Alice, and back on board with her mother. Alice had proven herself to be less of an ally and friend than they once thought. They had since decided that she had used them to get to Peter. Their relationship with him was suffering as a result. And Molly had confided that Peter didn't look too happy. Tanya couldn't help wondering if he had regrets about what he'd done, but it was too late for that.

The walk down the red carpet took forever. Photographers stopped them, TV cameras shone bright lights in their faces, and interviewers wanted to know what Gordon thought, and how Tanya felt.

“How good do you think your chances are?” was their favorite question.

“How are you going to feel if you win? … or lose?”

“How do you feel about never having won an Oscar?” That to Gordon.

It went on forever, until they finally got into the auditorium and took their seats. And then it took even longer. Gordon yawned frequently, and cameras caught him. And then he waved. He kissed Tanya several times, joked with the kids, applauded when people won. And then finally the moment came. The five screenwriters were shown on a giant screen, as they squirmed in the audience, trying to look calm and failing dismally to do so. They showed clips from the films, and then Steve Martin and Sharon Stone came out to open the envelope and read the winning name. Tanya sat in her seat squeezing Gordon's hand. She felt stupid, but suddenly it really mattered to her. She had never wanted anything so much in her life. She had noticed Douglas several rows ahead of her. He hadn't acknowledged her when she walked in. It had been exactly a year since she'd last seen him. They had broken up the night of the last Academy Awards. She had mentioned in passing to Gordon that she had gone out with him. It didn't bother him at all. He had dated half of Hollywood.

Steve handed the envelope to Sharon. She was wearing a vintage Chanel dress and looked incredible. And then she said the name. Tanya listened, and it didn't sound familiar. It was just words that hit her ears like a blur, and then she heard Megan scream.

“Mom! You won!” Gordon was looking at her and smiling, and she didn't understand. He lifted her gently out of her chair, and then she realized what had happened. The words they had said had been her name. Tanya Harris. She had won an Oscar for Best Screenplay for the movie Gone. She stood up, looking dazed, and stumbled past Gordon into the aisle, and an usher got her up to the stage, where she actually managed to walk to the podium, and stand there staring into the lights. She wanted to see her children, but she couldn't, and Gordon, but it was all a blur in the lights. All she could do was stand there, shaking from head to foot, clutching the gold statue everyone else in the room wanted so badly. She was startled by how heavy it was in her hand. And then she adjusted the microphone as Sharon and Steve disappeared.

“I…I don't know what to say …I didn't think I'd win …I can't remember everyone I want to thank … my agent, Walt Drucker for talking me into it … Douglas Wayne for giving me the chance … Adele Michaels, who is an incredible director and made the movie what it is … everyone in it …all of you who worked so hard, and put up with all my script changes every day … thank you for doing it with me, and teaching me so much. And most of all, I want to thank my wonderful children for supporting me”—tears sprang to her eyes as she said it—“for letting me do it, and giving up so much themselves so I could come to L.A. and work. Thank you, I love you so much.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks by then. “… and thank you, Gordon …I love you, too!” With that, she held the Oscar high, and walked off the stage. A moment later she was walking back down the aisle to where Gordon and her children were sitting, and as she walked past him, this time Douglas stood up. He kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand as she walked by.

“Congratulations, Tanya,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you, Douglas,” she said, looking him right in the eye. She meant it. He had given her the chance, on both pictures she'd made for him. She reached up then and kissed his cheek. And then she went back to Gordon and her children. Both girls were crying, and all three of them kissed her, and then Gordon kissed her hard on the mouth. He looked gorgeous and as though he were going to burst with pride.

“I'm so proud of you …I love you …,” he said, and kissed her again. And then the rest of the names were called. The evening didn't seem so long anymore.

Gone won everything. Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Picture, Best Screenplay, and Best Director. It was a major statement about suicide and an important film. Tanya smiled when she saw Douglas go up. He looked ecstatic. She remembered how unhappy he had been the year before when he didn't win. This year more than made up for it, although Douglas wanted to win every year. He made a very serious and moving speech, which she could tell he had prepared just in case.

There were a million interviews afterward, with Tanya tightly clutching her Oscar. Afterward they went to the Vanity Fair party, and several others. It was three in the morning before they all got back to her bungalow. It had been an incredible evening. They were all sleeping there that night, Jason on a roll-away bed in the girls' room, and Gordon in bed with her.

They were one big happy family, and Tanya was still grinning when she and Gordon went to bed. She set the Oscar on the night table next to her.

“What a night!” Gordon said, holding her close. She was so glad it had happened this year, and not last. It meant more to her to be celebrating with Gordon and her children than if Douglas had still been in her life.

She was sound asleep within minutes, as Gordon smiled at her, kissed her neck, and turned off the light.

Chapter 23

The days after Tanya won the Oscar seemed anticlimactic. The kids had to finish school, and neither she nor Gordon had jobs to do, so he suggested that he and Tanya go to Paris.

They stayed at the Ritz and had a ball. They spent a week eating, playing, and shopping. The weather was gorgeous, the city had never looked more beautiful, and both of them were happy. They went to London for a few days after that, and then stopped in New York on the way home. She had no plans, and Gordon didn't have another film to do until August. She invited him to Marin for the rest of April, May, June, and July. She was afraid he'd be bored there, but he was delighted. He had a studio apartment in New York, but he had no desire to stay there. And he was delighted to move in with Tanya and her children in Marin until he had to go back to work. He was going to be filming in L.A.

The children loved seeing him there when they came home from college. Tanya did some writing, and Gordon loved puttering in the garden. They went into the city, and rented a house in Stinson Beach for the weekend, which he thought was gorgeous.

“You know, I could get used to a life like this,” he told Tanya one night, as he was stretched out on the couch and she ran her fingers through his hair. He looked relaxed and happy, and she was the happiest she'd been in years.

“I think you'd get bored eventually,” she said, trying not to be sad about it. She had kept her promise to herself to live this with him day by day. They had been together by then for seven months. It was the longest he had been in a relationship in years, and by the time he went back to work in L.A. in August, it would be nearly a year.

“I think this could work,” he said, thinking about it. “This is a nice place to come home to. And you're a good woman, Tanya,” he said, and meant it. “Your husband was a jerk to go off with someone else.” He had met Peter and Alice once and wasn't impressed with either of them. “But I'm glad he did, by the way.”

“So am I,” she said, and meant it. She was happy with Gordon. He was crazy at times, but always nice, and so loving.

They spent June and July in Marin, and he went with them for the first week in Tahoe. And then he had to go to L.A. to work. He was the star of another film, with another dazzling cast. And a beautiful costar this time. He said for once he didn't care. He had finally, after all these years, found what he wanted. He said he had the perfect life with her.

Tanya stayed in Tahoe with the children until the end of August. They came back and she got them organized to go back to college. She had had several offers by then, to do screenplays for important films, but nothing she wanted. She wasn't even sure she wanted to do it again. She'd done three movies now, and maybe that was enough. She still wanted to finish her book of short stories, and she was thinking about writing a novel. She was enjoying drifting for a while. And as soon as the kids left for school, she had promised to meet Gordon in L.A. He had requested Bungalow 2 at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and she was going to stay there with him.

She saw Megan and Jason off in the morning, and flew to LAX with Molly. She dropped her off at school, and then went to the hotel to see Gordon. It was Sunday, and she was surprising him. He wasn't expecting her till the next day. But she had gotten everything done in Marin, so she had flown down with Molly a day earlier than planned.

She got to the hotel, and walked the familiar path to her bungalow. They had given her the key at the desk, and welcomed her back, as they always did. She was smiling to herself when she let herself into the room. He was out, and the place was a mess. He had obviously ordered a huge breakfast, and they hadn't picked up the trays yet. The “do not disturb” sign was on the door. He hated being bothered by the maid and people checking the minibar, and it was his day off from shooting.

She put her bag down quietly in the hall, and walked into the bedroom to take a shower. Her first reaction was to smile while she saw him sound asleep on the bed. He looked, as he always did, like a giant boy, and then she felt as though someone had shot her. There was a woman lying next to him, sound asleep, tangled up in the sheets, with long blond hair and a gorgeous body. They both awoke simultaneously as she let out a gasp. The girl sat up first, not sure what to say, and then Gordon turned and saw her. Tanya was standing in the middle of the room, staring at them, not sure which way to turn.

“Oh my God … I'm sorry …” Tanya gasped.

Gordon leaped out of bed in a single bound and looked at her in dismay. For once in his life, he couldn't think of anything funny to say. The girl disappeared into the bathroom, and came out in a bathrobe. Her clothes were in the living room, and she was discreetly trying to get past them, so she could get the hell out. Tanya saw immediately that she was the star of his new movie.

“Some things don't change, I guess,” Tanya said sadly, as Gordon grabbed his jeans and put them on.

“Look, Tan … it doesn't mean anything … it was stupid …we had a lot to drink last night, and got a little crazy.”

“You always do that … sleep with the star, I mean … if they hadn't been so ugly on our picture, you'd have wound up with one of them and not with me.” They both heard the door to the bungalow close behind his costar. She had no desire to be part of a domestic scene.

“That's bullshit. I love you.” He didn't know what else to say. They had been together for almost a year. It was an eternity for him, and just long enough for both of them to think it was for real. Just long enough for Tanya to think they might get married, and for her to want to.

“I love you, too,” she said sadly, and sat down. She wanted to run out the door, but she couldn't. She couldn't move. She just sat there, looking at him, feeling stupid as tears ran down her face. “You're always going to do this, Gordon. Every goddamned time you work on a movie.”

“I'm not. I've changed. I love your life in Marin. I love you …and I love your kids.”

“We love you, too.” She got up then and looked around the room, knowing she'd never want to see this bungalow again. Too much had happened. She'd been there with too many men. Peter, Douglas, and now Gordon.

“Where are you going?” he asked her, looking panicked.

“Home. I don't belong here. I never did. I want a real life, with someone who wants the same things I do, not someone who sleeps with every star he works with.” Gordon looked at her and said nothing. He had been sleeping with his costar since the second week of the movie. There was no point lying to Tanya. They both knew it would happen again. For him, it was an occupational hazard.

She didn't say a word to him. She walked to the door and picked up her bag. And he didn't stop her. She turned to look at him, and he said nothing. He didn't tell her he loved her. They both knew he did. But loving her didn't change anything. This was just the way he was. She walked out of Bungalow 2 and closed the door softly behind her, leaving Gordon where and as he was.

Chapter 24

Molly called Tanya in Marin two days later. She had called her at the hotel, and was surprised when Gordon told her that her mother had gone back to Ross.

“Is something wrong?” Molly asked her when she called her mother. “He sounded funny. Or actually not so funny. He sounded sad. Did you two have a fight?”

“Sort of.” Tanya didn't want to talk to her about it, just as she hadn't told her when Peter had the affair with Alice. “Actually,” she said, choking on the words, “it's over.” He hadn't called her. He was doing what he always did and having a hot romance with his costar. She was his type. Tanya wasn't. Maybe that's why it had lasted longer. They'd had a good run, and she was philosophical about it, but sad that it was over. It was just the way things went in L.A.

“I'm sorry, Mom,” Molly said, genuinely sad for her. They all loved Gordon. “Maybe he'll come back.”

“No. I'm okay. He's not the kind of guy to stick around, or get domestic.”

“At least you had nine great months with him.” Molly tried to cheer her up. It seemed pathetic to Tanya that the best that grownups who loved each other could do was last nine months. She and Peter had lasted for twenty years, and even that meant nothing once he got involved with Alice. Nothing lasted anymore. Promises were no longer kept, and always broken. To Tanya, it seemed a sad statement about people. No one knew what they wanted. And when they claimed they did, they screwed it up anyway. The thought of it depressed her.

She talked to Molly for a while, and eventually the others called her. They had heard the news from Molly. They were all sorry about Gordon. She didn't explain what had happened.

She spent a week mourning him, and then went back to writing short stories, living in the empty house in Ross. It seemed like a barn now without her children.

She worked for months relentlessly, saw no one, rarely went out, and finished the book of short stories just before Thanksgiving. It was a long, lonely autumn. It was the day the kids were due home for Thanksgiving that Walt called her. He was happy to hear she'd finished the book. He had a publisher for it, and took a breath before he told her he had a movie for her, too. He knew before he said it what her reaction would be. She'd already told him in no uncertain terms, months before, not to call her again for a screenplay. She said she'd done the L.A. thing, and under no circumstances would she go back and do it again. She'd done three films, won an Oscar, and spent a total of nearly two years down there. It was enough. From now on, she only wanted to do books. And she was determined now to start a novel. And live in Ross.

“Tell them I'm not interested,” Tanya told him bluntly. She was never going back to L.A. She didn't like how people lived down there, or what they believed in. She liked even less the way they behaved. She had no life in Marin, but she didn't care. She no longer saw her old friends. They belonged to Peter and Alice now. All she was interested in was her writing, and her children when they came to visit. Her agent didn't like the way she lived, but he had to admit, her current writing was terrific. Richer, stronger, deeper. It was easy to see how much she had suffered. But at forty-four, he thought she deserved more of a life.

“Can I at least tell you what this picture is about?” Walt sounded exasperated. He knew how stubborn she was. She had closed the door on the movie business, and she wasn't even willing to hear him out. She never was. Since her Oscar, he had called her at least a dozen times.

“Nope. I don't care what it's about. I'm not doing movies, and I'm never going back to L.A.”

“You don't have to. The producer/director in this case is an independent. He wants to make a movie in San Francisco, and the story is right up your alley.”

“Nope. Tell him to find someone else. I want to start a novel.”

“Oh, for chrissake, Tanya. You won an Oscar. Everybody wants you. This guy has a great idea. He's won all kinds of awards, though not an Oscar. You could write the script for him with your eyes closed.”

“I don't want to write another screenplay,” she said bluntly. “I hate the people who make movies. They have no integrity and no morals. They're a pain in the ass to work for, and every time I go near them, it screws up my life.”

“And your life is so great now? You've turned into a recluse up there, and the stuff you're writing is so depressing, I have to take mood elevators when I read it.” She smiled at his comment. She knew what he said was true, but the work was good, and he knew it. He just didn't like it.

“Then get a new prescription. Because the novel I want to write is no joyride either.”

“Stop writing such depressing shit. Besides, the movie this guy wants to make is serious stuff, too. You could win another Oscar.” He was trying to entice her and getting nowhere.

“I have one. I don't need another one.”

“Sure you do. You could use them as bookends. For all the depressing books you're going to write holed up in your castle.” She laughed at what he said.

“I hate you.”

“I love it when you say that,” he said. “It means I'm getting to you. The producer in this case is English, and he wants to meet you. He'll only be in San Francisco this week.”

“Oh, for chrissake, Walt. I don't know why I listen to you.”

“Because I'm right and you know it. I only call you for the good ones. This is a good one. I can feel it. I met him in New York before he went out there. He's a nice guy. And he makes good movies. His list of credits is excellent. He's very respected in England.”

“Okay, okay, I'll meet him.”

“Thank you. Don't forget to let the drawbridge down over the moat.” She chuckled, and Phillip Cornwall called her late that afternoon. He told her how grateful he was that she was willing to listen to him. He didn't tell her, but her agent had warned him that the likelihood of her seeing him was slim to none.

She met him for coffee at Starbucks in Mill Valley. Her hair had gotten longer, and she hadn't worn makeup in six months. Her year with Gordon had brought her joy and fun, but losing him had taken a toll. In the last few years she'd been disappointed too often, and lost too many men. She had no desire to try again. And when he met with her, Phillip could see that bad things had happened to her. There were rivers of pain in her eyes. He had read it in her writing.

He described the story to her, while she drank tea and he drank cappuccino. She found his accent soothing. And she liked the fact that he wanted to make the movie in San Francisco. The story was about a woman who died while traveling, and traced her back to where it all began, what had led her to the place where she ended, and why she had died, as the result of her late husband leading a secretly bisexual life and contracting AIDS. It was a complicated story, yet the themes were simple. She liked everything about it, and was intrigued by what he said. She paid no attention to how he looked. She liked his creative spirit and the complex workings of his mind. But although he was young and good-looking, she had no interest in him as a man. That part of her was completely numb. Or dead, she thought.

“Why me?” she asked him quietly, sipping her tea. She knew from his biography that he was forty-one years old, had made half a dozen movies, and won a number of awards. She liked how straightforward he was when he talked to her. He didn't try to butter her up, or win her over. He was well aware that she was unlikely to do it. He wanted to convince her based on the merit of the material, not on charm. She liked all that about him. She was long past wanting to be vulnerable to charm. And if nothing else, he wanted her opinion and advice.

“I saw the movie that won you the Oscar. I knew I had to work with you as soon as I saw Gone. It's an incredible film.” With a powerful message, like the screenplay he wanted her to write.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “So what will you do now?” She wanted to know his plan.

“I'll go back to England.” He smiled at her, and she saw that he looked tired. He looked both young and old at the same time. Wise, yet still able to smile. In some ways, they were a lot alike. They both looked tired, and somewhat worn by life, yet neither of them was old. “Eventually, I hope to gather up my pennies, bring my children, and come to live here for a year. And make my movie, if I'm lucky … I'll be very lucky if you write it.” It was the only charm he had allowed himself and she smiled. He had deep, warm brown eyes that looked as though they'd seen a lot of life, and some hard times.

“I don't want to write screenplays anymore,” she said honestly.

She didn't tell him why, and he didn't ask. He respected her boundaries as well as her skill. She was something of an icon to him, and he thought she had enormous talent. It didn't bother him that she was distant and chilly with him. He accepted her as she was.

“That's what your agent told me. I was hoping to convince you otherwise.”

“I don't think you can,” she said honestly, although she loved his story.

“So he said.” He had almost given up hope of her writing the script for him. But it had been worth a try.

“Why are you bringing your children here? Wouldn't it be easier to leave them in England while you work?” It was a detail, but she was curious about him. He had dark hair, fair skin, and those soft brown eyes that bored into hers, with a thousand questions he didn't dare ask. She was braver than he.

He answered her question as simply as he could, without offering details. “I'm bringing my children because my wife died two years ago. In a riding accident. She was crazy about horses, and very headstrong. She went over a bush and broke her neck. It was rough terrain. She grew up riding to hounds. So I have to bring my kids. I have no one to leave them with at home.” He sounded matter of fact and not sorry for himself, which touched her more than she showed. “Besides, I'd be miserable here alone. I've never left them since their mother died, until this trip. I only came over for a few days, to meet you.” It was hard not to be flattered, or touched.

“How old are they?” she asked with interest. It explained what she saw in his eyes and on his face. There was pain and strength. She liked the mixture of both, and what he'd said about his kids. There was nothing Hollywood about him. Everything about Phillip seemed real.

“Seven and nine. A girl and a boy. Isabelle and Rupert.”

“Very English,” she said, and he smiled.

“I need to rent a place, if you know of anything dirt cheap.”

“I might,” she said quietly, glancing at her watch. Her kids were coming home, but it was still early. She had given herself plenty of time when she agreed to meet with him. She hesitated, and then decided to stick her neck out, and wasn't sure why, except that she felt sorry for him. He had a lot on his plate, and he wasn't whining about what had happened to him. He was making the best of it, keeping his kids with him, and trying to do his work. You had to give him credit for that. “You can stay with me until you find a place. I have a comfortable old house, and my kids are away at school. They're coming home tonight. But normally, they're only here over Christmas and in the summer. So you can stay for a while, and the schools are good here.”

“Thank you.” He looked moved and didn't speak for a minute, touched by her offer. “They're good kids. They're used to traveling with me, so they're pretty well behaved.” It was the kind of thing all parents said, but if they were English, Tanya suspected it was true, and it would put a little life back in her house until he found a place to rent. She wanted to do something to help him, even though she wouldn't write his script. He'd have to find someone else to do that. But she didn't mind their staying at her house until he found his feet.

“When are you coming back?” she asked with a look of concern.

“January. After they finish their term. Around the tenth.”

“That's perfect. My kids will be back at school by then. They won't be home again till spring break. When do you leave?”

“Tonight.” He had the material on the table between them, and she picked it up while he held his breath. She held it in her hands for an interminable moment and their eyes met.

“I'll read your stuff and let you know. You can stay with me either way. Don't get your hopes up. I'm not going to write another script. But I'll tell you what I think.” She was impressed by what she'd heard so far and by him. She stood up then, holding the folder in her arms. “I'll call you after I read it. But don't count on anything. It would take a lot to make me do another movie. I'm about to write a novel. I'm through with films, no matter how good your story is.”

“I hope this is the one that changes your mind,” he said, as he stood up, too. He was very tall, and thin. There was barely a smile between them. He had left her his UK cell number, and his home number was on the papers. She thanked him then for coming from England to see her. It was a slightly crazy thing to do, but he said he was glad he had, even if she didn't do the script. They shook hands then, and he left.

He got in his rented car and drove away, and she drove home, and put the folder on her desk. She didn't know when she'd get to it, but she knew she would at some point. And two hours later her kids were home, and the house came alive again. It was so good to have them home, she forgot all about his folder until after the Thanksgiving weekend. She saw it on her desk and sighed. She didn't want to read it, but had said she would. She felt she owed him at least that.

She read it on Sunday night after the kids left, and finished it at midnight. It was eight in the morning in England for him. He was making breakfast for his children when she called him. She wanted to hate him for it, but she couldn't. She knew this was one screenplay she had to write, and this would be the last one. But it was a piece of work she was suddenly longing to do. She had made copious notes as she read it, and already had a million ideas. The story he had outlined was brilliant. Clean, clear, pure, simple, powerful, and at the same time complex and fascinatingly intricate. She had to write it.

“I'll do it,” she said, as she could hear children's voices in the background. There was all the noise and chatter that happened over breakfast with children. They were the sounds she missed so much. It would be nice to have them stay with her, even if only for a few days, or however long it took him to find a place. She could hardly wait to start work on the script.

“I'm sorry … what did you say?” Rupert had shouted at the dog just as she had spoken. And now it was barking again. “I didn't hear you. I've got a noisy lot here.” She smiled as she listened.

“I said I'd do it.” She spoke softly, but this time he heard her. There was a long silence while the dog barked and the kids were squealing.

“Shit. Do you mean it?”

“Yes, I do. And I swear this will be my last one. But I think it's going to be a beautiful movie. I fell in love with your idea. The outline made me cry.”

“I wrote it for my wife,” he explained. “She was an interesting woman. She was a physician.”

“I suspected it was about her,” in some altered form, since she had died in a riding accident, and not of AIDS. “I'll start working on it now. I was going to start a novel, but it can wait. I'll fax you what I've got, as soon as it starts to make sense.”

“Tanya,” he said in a choked voice, “thank you.”

“Thank you,” she said. And the two people who hadn't smiled enough in a long time were both suddenly beaming. There was no doubt in her mind. It was going to be a very, very good picture. And hopefully, a terrific script. She was going to give it her all.

She started working on it the day after Thanksgiving. It took her three weeks to get a handle on it as she sketched out scenes, and laid out the flow of the picture. It was Christmas week before she faxed some material to him. He read it in one night, and called her in his morning. It was midnight for her, and she was sitting at her desk, working on it, when he called her.

“I love what you did,” he said, sounding jubilant. “It's absolutely perfect.” It was even better than he had hoped. She was making his dream come true.

“I like it, too,” she said, smiling, as she looked out the window into the darkness. “I think it works.” She had cried several times as she wrote it, which was always a good sign. And so had he when he read it.

“I think it's brilliant!” he said to her.

They talked for nearly an hour, as she discussed some problems with him. There were rough spots in the material, things she hadn't figured out how to handle yet. It was all still in its early stages. But together they batted ideas back and forth and solved the problems one by one. She was surprised to find afterward that they had talked for two hours.

He was still coming on the tenth of January. He wanted to hire local actors. He knew a cameraman in San Francisco he said was very good, a South African he had gone to school with. Phillip was going to be making his movie on a shoestring. He had offered Tanya all he could to write the screenplay. She thought about it and called him back afterward. She told him she'd take a percentage at the back end. She didn't want anything from him up front. She thought the project was worth investing in. She was more interested in making it with him than in making money.

She started to get a real grip on it shortly before Christmas, and the screenplay was almost writing itself. It felt like destiny at work. She was writing everything he had felt, and he was thrilled with what she wrote.

Her kids came home, and they had a wonderful Christmas vacation. Jason went skiing with friends. Megan had a new boyfriend at UCSB, and Molly was talking about going to Florence to study for junior year. Tanya told them all about the independent movie she had started to work on. They were intrigued by what she told them. She told them little about Phillip Cornwall, because he was the least of it. What had gripped her was the story. She had been working on it since Thanksgiving and was haunted by it. Phillip had been the catalyst, but by now she loved the story itself. It had a life of its own, as all good stories did.

Phillip arrived on schedule on the tenth of January, with Isabelle and Rupert. He had already started putting out feelers for an apartment, and promised not to stay with her for too long. She put him in Molly's room, and the children in Megan's. She put a roll-away bed in the room, so they could be close together. The children were adorable, and totally, incredibly English. Rupert was nine, and Isabelle was seven. They were extremely polite and well behaved, and looked like children in a movie. They were beautiful and sweet, with big blue eyes and blond hair. Phillip said they were the image of their mother. And as they walked into the house with him, they looked up at her with their huge eyes, as he stood over them proudly. She could see in the first five minutes that he was a very good father, and they adored him, and he them. They were a tightly woven loving unit.

It was British teatime when they came in, exhausted from the long flight. She had made little sandwiches for them, hot chocolate with whipped cream. And she'd gone to the English grocery store to buy scones and clotted cream. She had sliced strawberries and jam to go with it, and both children screamed when they saw what she had prepared. They loved the scones, and Isabelle dove in so vigorously that she got clotted cream on her nose. Phillip laughed as he wiped it off.

“You're a little piggy, Miss Izzy. We'll have to throw you in the bath.”

It was wonderful hearing the sound of children's voices again. Tanya could hear them laughing in their room, talking to their father. And she heard him reading a bedtime story to them when she walked by their room that night. It was at least an hour later when he came downstairs to the kitchen. She was working on the screenplay, and he said they were sound asleep.

“They're nackered from the trip,” he said, and she looked up and smiled.

“You must be, too.” The deep brown eyes looked tired, but happy. He was dying to get to work.

“Not really.” He smiled at her. “I'm excited to be here.” He was planning to enroll them in school the next day, and then wanted to meet with his cameraman later that week. They had a million plans and things to talk about. In some ways, it was easier to have him right in the house, so they could work. They talked for hours, over several cups of tea, and finally the jet lag got him and he went to bed.

She made breakfast for them the next morning, and told him how to get to the school. She lent him her car to get there. He was back two hours later, the children were settled, and he was ready to get to work. They worked relentlessly on the screenplay together all through the week. The project was well in control, and moving ahead by leaps, faster and better than either of them had expected. They were turning out to be a powerful team, as they played ideas off each other, which enriched the script and the story day by day.

She spent the weekend with him and the children, showing them around. She babysat for Isabelle and Rupert while he looked for apartments. She made cupcakes with them, and they made papiermé¢ché puppets with her, as she had done with her own children years before. When he got back, the whole kitchen was a mess, but his children were beaming at their new friend. They had made little animals and puppets, and Isabelle had made a mask.

“Good lord, what have you all been up to? What a dreadful mess!” He laughed, and noticed that Tanya had papier-mé¢ché all over her chin. He pointed, and she brushed it off.

“We've had a very good time,” she confirmed with a smile.

“I hope so. It'll take you a week to clean it up.” After they put the children's creations aside to dry, he helped her clean up and put everything away. The children were playing on the swings outside, which were still there after all these years. Tanya said it was nice to see them used again. Isabelle and Rupert were bringing the house back to life, and so was he. He was bringing something different and new to her work. She was learning a lot from him, and he from her.

He said he had found an apartment in Mill Valley, and she was sorry to hear it. She liked having them there. He apologized that it wouldn't be available for another week.

“That's fine with me.” She smiled at him. “I'll be sorry when you go. It's so nice having the children here.” She was tempted to ask them to stay, but he needed to have a life and place of his own. They couldn't live in her children's rooms for six months, although it would have been nice. “I hope you come to visit often,” she said to him. “They're such sweet kids.” They had mentioned their mother to her, and looking very solemn, Rupert explained that she had died when she fell off a horse.

“I know,” Tanya said seriously. “I was very sad to hear about it.”

“She was very pretty,” Isabelle added, as Tanya nodded.

“I'm sure she was.”

She distracted them then with pads of paper and colored pencils and suggested they make drawings for their father. He had been delighted to get them when he got back. He was touched that Tanya was so nice to his children. She took all of them out to dinner that night. The children ate hamburgers and french fries, and she and Phillip had steak. And she felt like a family again, when she got back to the house, with Phillip driving, and the two little ones chatting animatedly in the backseat. They told Tanya they liked their new school, but they told her they'd be going back to England next summer, after their dad finished making his movie.

“I know,” she said, as they walked into the house. “I'm going to work on it with him.”

“Are you an actress?” Rupert asked with interest.

“No, I'm a writer,” Tanya explained, as she helped Isabelle take off her coat. The little girl looked up at her with a smile that melted Tanya's heart. It wasn't hard to do.

Phillip and Tanya continued to work on the script together for the next week. What they were doing was essentially preproduction on a modest scale. They were getting all their ducks lined up. And the following weekend he and the children moved out. She hated to see them go, and made him promise to bring them back to visit soon. As it turned out, he brought them to her house often. He brought them after school, to play in the kitchen and do homework, while he and Tanya worked on the script.

Phillip hired several local actors, and a young girl from L.A. They started shooting the movie in April. They finished at the end of June, and by then he and Tanya had worked together for six months night and day. Isabelle and Rupert were totally comfortable with her. She had them over to dinner often, and bought them familiar things to eat from the English grocery store in the city. It was fun doing things with them. One Saturday when they weren't filming, she took them to the zoo. She brought them back to Phillip at dinnertime, with cotton candy all over their faces, and they had stopped at the carousel on the way. And in the summer, she and Phillip took them to the beach. It was like a reprieve for Tanya, who said her children were much too grown up, and busy with their own lives now.

Having Tanya nearby was a relief for Phillip. He brought the children over more than he intended to, but she insisted she loved it, and his children begged to visit her in Ross. They liked her rambling old house that her children had loved, too. And over their many months of intense work, she and Phillip had become friends. They had shared many confidences by then, about their past lives, their children, and their spouses, even about their childhoods. She said it helped her writing. Insights into other people always gave her work more depth.

The children were staying with her for the weekend, and her own children were home from school, when they finally finished the movie on the last day in June. Molly and Megan thought Isabelle and Rupert were absolutely adorable, and took them out with them sometimes when they had errands to do. Isabelle was particularly serious, and Rupert had a funny little sense of humor. They were sweet children, and Tanya felt a pang to realize how attached to them she had gotten. When Phillip said they were going back in July, she wanted to beg him not to go. She couldn't imagine what it would be like once the children were gone and her house was silent again. She couldn't bear the thought. He was touched when she said it to him one night over dinner. They were doing postproduction now, and Tanya was relieved that it was moving slowly. They had been remarkably diligent about every aspect of the film. Phillip was very proud of it, and Tanya was proud of him. He had done a fantastic job, and he was thrilled with the script.

Their relationship had been entirely professional so far. Phillip was a relatively formal person, and very English. The only time he let his hair down with her was when he saw her with his children. Each time he did, she touched his heart.

“I think you should stay another year,” she teased him at dinner one night, with her children and his.

“Only if you do another movie with me,” he teased back.

“God forbid,” Tanya said, and rolled her eyes. She kept swearing this was her last film forever. It had been an enormous amount of work, more than either of them had expected or planned, but they were both convinced the results were good. Phillip was planning to edit it himself when he went back to England. He had rented a studio from a friend.

By the end of July, he had done everything he wanted to in the States. Tanya wasn't sharing the final editing process with him, but she did as much as possible before they left. He was planning to spend the last two weeks of his trip traveling around California, and surprised Tanya by asking her to go with them. Isabelle and Rupert begged her to. She had just enough time to do it with them before taking her own children to Tahoe, and then she had an idea.

“Why don't you come to Tahoe with us, after your trip? We'd love it. And then you can go back after that.” He had already let go his apartment, and she told him he could stay in the house again. It would only make the summer livelier, and once he agreed to go to Tahoe, she agreed to join them on their trip around the state. It was something to do, and Molly and Megan thought it sounded like fun for her. It worried them that all she did now was work, and she had looked so grim all year, ever since her romance with Gordon had broken up. Finding him in bed with his costar had hit her hard. It was nice seeing her more relaxed again, and they could see that she and Phillip were friends. Even Megan approved, and had mellowed a lot that year.

Tanya, Phillip, and his children started their trip in Monterey. They went to the aquarium, and then wandered around Carmel. They went to Santa Barbara, where they visited Jason at summer school at UCSB, and from there they went to L.A. They spent two days at Disneyland, which Isabelle and Rupert loved. Tanya took them on all the rides, while Phillip took photographs of all three of them. They were exhausted but happy as they watched the parade and light show on the last night, and she turned and looked at Phillip as Isabelle held her hand. She saw him smiling at her. He wanted to thank her, but didn't know how, and then they took the train back to their hotel. He put an arm around her shoulders as they walked in. Isabelle was sleeping with Tanya and Rupert with him. Isabelle had asked to sleep with Tanya, and she was thrilled. He came in to kiss her goodnight and tuck her in, and then he turned to Tanya with a warm look.

“Thank you for being so good to my children,” he whispered as Isabelle fell asleep. She was smiling happily with an arm around the Minnie Mouse doll Tanya had bought her. Rupert had been obsessed with the Pirates of the Caribbean and gone on the ride twice with her.

“I love them,” she said simply. “I don't know what I'll do when you go away,” she said with a look of sorrow in her eyes, which was suddenly mirrored in his.

“Neither do I,” he said softly. He started to leave the room and then turned back to her, as though he were about to say something, but hesitated. “Tanya … these have been the best months of my life in years, you know …” He knew they had been happy months for his children, too, the happiest since their mother's death.

“Me too,” she whispered. It was the children that had been the greatest gift. They owned her heart. Writing the film had been icing on the cake. He nodded, and then took a step closer to her, and without thinking, he reached out and smoothed down her hair. She hadn't looked in the mirror since that morning, and didn't really care. She had concentrated on Isabelle and Rupert, and doing everything they wanted to do, running from one ride to another, standing on line, seeing Mickey and Goofy, and getting them fed. It was the most fun she'd had in years, and she loved sharing it with him, just as she had the film. It was strange to think of a life without him now, and agonizing to think of life without them. They had become her precious little friends. And she had gotten used to all three of them. Watching them leave for England in a few weeks was going to be a major loss for her. Phillip was looking at her as she thought of it, and he could see the pain in her eyes. It was the same pain he felt leaving her. He didn't say a word to her, and wouldn't have known what to say. It was so long since he had done anything like it. He pulled her close and kissed her, and time stood still for both of them while he did. When he pulled away at last, he wasn't sure what to do or say or if he'd made a terrible mistake.

“Do you hate me?” he asked her softly. He had thought of it before, but told himself he was insane. He didn't want to confuse things while they were working together. And now it was too late. They were about to leave. But he had shared his most important piece of work with her. And he treasured her as a friend.

Tanya slowly shook her head. “I don't hate you. I already miss you, and you haven't even left.” Life was so strange sometimes. People came into your life and left again, sometimes kindly, sometimes cruelly, and always with regret. She was going to miss them terribly. She looked into Phillip's eyes, wondering what the kiss meant.

“I don't want to leave,” he said softly. The emotions he had held back for months were spilling over him, and nearly drowning him, now that the walls were down.

“Then don't,” she whispered back.

“Come with us.” His eyes begged her, and she shook her head.

“I can't. What would I do there?”

“The same thing we did here. We could make another movie together.”

“And then what, when the movie ends? I'd still have to come back. My children are here, Phillip.”

“They're almost grown up. We need you, Tanya …I need you,” he said with tears in his eyes. He didn't know what to say to her, but he didn't want this to end. This trip. This time. The life he had shared with her, that was about to end forever when they left.

“Are you serious?” she asked as he nodded and kissed her again. “Now what are we going to do?” she asked, looking distressed. Why had this happened now, so close to the end? It seemed too late. They had to leave, and she had to stay here. But her life would seem empty now without them.

“I'm very serious,” he said somberly, pulling her tighter into his arms. “I fell in love with you the day we met. I didn't want to screw things up by saying anything while we were working together.” It was the opposite of what Gordon did, playing on every movie he made. Phillip had been professional till the last. Perhaps too much so. They had wasted months that they could have spent together. She had felt something, too, but had chosen to ignore it until now. She had poured her heart into Isabelle and Rupert, and his film. But now she couldn't ignore what she felt for Phillip. All he wanted to do was hold her, and stop time from moving forward. They were down to their final days together, and then would go their separate ways.

“Let's talk about this tomorrow,” she said softly, and he nodded. There was a smile in his eyes now, a spark of life. Some part of him was coming alive again, and he could see it in her eyes, too. “Are we completely crazy?” she asked him, looking worried.

“Yes. But I'm not sure we have a choice here. I don't think I can do otherwise.” She wasn't sure that she could either. She was feeling swept away on the tides of what he was saying to her and what they were feeling for each other. Everything between them was changing. She wanted to stop and be sensible, to make reasonable decisions. But the decisions seemed to be making themselves. She felt as though she were losing control over her destiny as she looked at him.

He kissed her again and left, and she lay awake all night, next to Isabelle in the bed beside her. She held the little girl close to her, and thought of him. What strange fate had brought them all together? And why, if they were going to have to leave each other again? She didn't want to love one more person she couldn't have, or one more person who would leave. They were leaving in three weeks. And yet, she realized now, she was falling in love with him, or had been all along. Not only him but his children. And there was no way she could go with him and live in England. There had to be some other way. The secret was to find it. If it was meant to be, she told herself, they would find a solution. If not, they wouldn't. All they had to do was be brave enough to look. And braver still if they dared to trust life again.

Chapter 25

The rest of their trip to southern California was a strange journey for Phillip and Tanya. They spent most of it looking at each other over his children's heads and smiling. They had found something magical on the trip. Something they'd had all along and didn't even know. But now that it was out of the closet, it was impossible to resist, and neither of them wanted to. Now there was no putting it back or hiding what they'd found and finally admitted. It was out in the bright sunlight, blinding them with its light.

They took long walks on the beach in San Diego, walking behind the children, watching them as they got their feet wet in the surf, and picked up shells to give the children.

“I love you, Tanya,” he said softly in the accent that was so familiar now. She had been firmly convinced she would never hear those words again from a man, nor wanted to.

“I love you, too.” But she had no idea what to do about it. They both thought about it quietly on the long drive home.

The girls seemed not to notice the transformation that had happened on their travels. Jason came home, and they all went to Lake Tahoe. It was only once they were there that the older children became aware of something different happening between their mother and Phillip. Until then, they had been firmly convinced that all their mother and Phillip shared was work. They liked him, although their situation seemed complicated even to them. He was leaving for England with his children in two weeks. He asked her one night if she would move to England with him, and she said again that she couldn't. She said that she had children and a life here.

“I can't leave my kids.” And he couldn't stay in the States either. He had no permit to work, except on this film. And it was finished. He had to go back. They were going to be six thousand miles apart. It seemed a cruel turn of fate to both of them.

And then as Molly talked about spending a semester in Florence, Phillip and Tanya looked at each other across the table at dinner one night, and their eyes met. They had the same idea at the same time. He waited until the children had gone to bed to ask her. She knew what he was going to say before he said the words.

“Would you be willing to live in Italy with me for a year while we figure this out?” One or both of them was going to have to move, and it was too soon to make any decisions yet. They knew each other well after six months of working together, but there was much they didn't know, and needed to find out. Things they had both forgotten and thought they wanted to forget, until now.

“My kids won't be home again until Thanksgiving,” Tanya explained to him. “I suppose I could come to England and stay with you after they leave for school in September, and I could stay for a couple of months. Maybe while I'm there we could look for a house somewhere near Florence. If Molly goes to school there for the semester after Christmas, we'd be close to her. She could even stay with us. Maybe Megan would want to come, too.” Jason was far less interested in studying in Europe, but he was also less dependent on her and he could come over to visit for vacations, which would be less disruptive for him. “Could you and the children come here for Christmas, Phillip?”

“I don't see why not. I've got some free air miles floating around somewhere.” His eyes lit up as he said it. They were finding solutions. It was like fitting the pieces of a puzzle together. It seemed miraculous that the bits of sky and trees were beginning to fit, when only days ago they made no sense. “If you come to England in September until Thanksgiving … and we go to Italy and look for a house … then I come back with you for Thanksgiving and Christmas … we go to Italy in January when Molly starts her term there … we stay until the summer, or even for the rest of the year, if we love it. It's a bit of a patchwork, isn't it? But I think it could work. It gives us a year to see what happens. By then we'll know what we want to do … won't we?” He looked at her cautiously, and she laughed.

“I think we've just pretty well squared away the next year of our lives. Maybe we'll think of another movie to work on together. Maybe a lot of things will happen in the next year, Phillip. Something very big just did happen to us. We fell in love, or let ourselves acknowledge what must have happened months ago when we were so busy working. Now we just figured out how to spend the next year together, or maybe year and a half. I'd say that's very creative problem solving.” There were a few holes in the theory that remained to be solved, finding a house in Italy … visiting Megan in Santa Barbara if she didn't want to do a semester in Europe with Molly. It was less than perfect, but it just might work. It was fraught with risk, as all things in life were. But what if it worked? What more could one ask? There were no certainties in life, of how things would happen. No guarantees that disaster or tragedy wouldn't befall them. But hand in hand, there was a good chance they could make it work. With love and patience and courage, there was nothing they couldn't do. Particularly if they were both willing to try, which they were. Phillip put his arms around her then and held her. She felt warm in his arms, as she always did.

“I can't believe this is happening to us, Tanya. I never thought I'd fall in love again.”

“Neither did I,” Tanya said softly. “I don't think I wanted to,” she said honestly. “I didn't want to risk my heart again.”

“And now?” he asked, sounding worried, as he looked tenderly at her.

“I don't really think we have a choice. I think this time the decision reached out to us. All we can do is follow it and trust. Sometimes you can't see the end of the path at the beginning. You just have to follow where it goes.” They were both doing that this time, and taking the risks together. Solving the problems, facing the obstacles, meeting the challenges, one day at a time.

“It feels right to me, Tanya.” And it did to her, too. She couldn't even explain it or justify it. But everything felt so incredibly right to her, for the first time in years. It all made sense, to both of them.

There was no solid evidence to the contrary. No guarantees. All they could really do was trust. They had each decided to do that at exactly the same time. The synchronicity of it seemed amazing that they had fallen in love, told each other, come up with a plan, and found a solution all at the same time. It would have been easier to land a 747 on the head of a pin. But they had done it, or started to. The rest would have to unfold as time went on. All they needed now was the courage to follow through on what they'd started, and a little luck along the way. Nothing was impossible. Anything could be done, if you wanted it badly enough. The movie they had just made was proof of that. And so was almost everything in their life. They had survived tragedies and disappointments. The demise of Tanya's marriage, the death of Phillip's wife. They had been through it and survived. The rest would be easy now compared to all that.

They told the children about their plans the next day, and everyone thought it an amazing plan. Megan liked the idea of going to Italy with Molly. Better yet if Tanya and Phillip had a house somewhere nearby. Jason didn't mind them going. He said he'd come over for spring vacation, and in the summer. He had been wanting to travel around Europe with friends. Everyone was thrilled, although a little startled to hear about the budding relationship between Phillip and Tanya. But the more they thought about it, the more they liked it. And all of Tanya's children thought he was a great guy.

Isabelle summed up the situation when she heard that Tanya was coming to England to visit them until Thanksgiving.

“Good,” she said practically. “Then you can do my hair for school properly just like my mum. My dad can't do hair at all.”

“I'll do my best,” Tanya promised, as all seven of them looked at each other, chatted animatedly about their plans, and sat down to dinner, talking all at once about the house in Italy they hoped to find … Megan and Molly's plans for school … Isabelle's hair … and the movie Phillip and Tanya were going to make …Rupert sidled up to Jason then, with a grin. Jason was the closest thing he'd ever had to a brother, and he liked the idea of spending more time with him.

“It all sounds a bit mad, doesn't it?” Rupert looked philosophical about it, and more than a little pleased. “But I think it might work.”

“So do I,” Jason agreed, smiling at him. He was a cute boy, and he was right. There was no reason why it wouldn't. In fact, with enough love and luck, there was every reason why it would.

Chapter 26

In the end Tanya and Phillip delayed leaving for Italy until the end of January. Molly and Megan didn't begin their term in Florence until then. They had found a house just outside Florence in October. It was furnished, big enough for all of them, and it was waiting in perfect order. All they had to do was arrive, and turn the key. Phillip, Rupert, and Isabelle had spent Christmas with Tanya and her family in Marin. Isabelle and Rupert still believed in Santa Claus, so Christmas had new meaning for all of them. The girls had helped them put out cookies and milk for Santa Claus, and carrots and salt for the reindeer. And at the last minute, Rupert had decided to add a beer.

Their school in England had very kindly allowed them to take a month off, as long as they took their assignments to California with them, and did their homework while they were away. Jason went back to UCSB in January, and the girls had the month at home to get ready for their semester in Florence. Tanya had them take a course in Italian at Berlitz, so they would be able to manage a little better once they were there. And she took several lessons, too. Phillip preferred to wing it.

But the real reason for the delay was so that they could attend the Golden Globes. It was the award given by the foreign press, both for television and feature films. And although one couldn't always rely on it, in many instances, the film that won the Golden Globes went on to win an Oscar three months later. The film Phillip and Tanya had made, honoring his late wife, had been released at the end of December, and had been nominated for an award for best feature film. Phillip and Tanya wanted to be there. And all of their children were going to attend.

Unlike the Oscars, it was set up like a benefit, with tables, and a dozen people at each table, rather than in a theater. It was always a fun event, and seeing who won the prestigious awards was always exciting. Neither Phillip nor Tanya had ever been. It was incredibly momentous for them when they found out that their film had been nominated. It was the high point of Phillip's career, more than for Tanya, who had won an Oscar the year before, but she was just as excited as he was, and she was thrilled for him.

They flew to L.A. with Phillip's children and the girls the morning of the awards. Jason was driving down from Santa Barbara and meeting them there. And as she always did, they were staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Phillip, Tanya, and all the children were wildly excited. They had bought dresses in San Francisco, and Phillip bought a dinner jacket for the event. Tanya got Rupert a suit at Brooks Brothers, and a black velvet dress for Isabelle, which she loved. She had tried it on a hundred times, with black patent-leather Mary Janes she had brought from England.

Tanya had requested two bungalows, one for the children and another for them. She had specifically asked them not to give them Bungalow 2. But as it turned out, there had been a mix-up in their reservation. The children were given the presidential suite, and Phillip and Tanya were in Bungalow 2. They acted as though they were doing her a favor. It wasn't big enough to give to the children, since there were five of them, and the bungalow would have been too crowded. She wanted to give the children three rooms, so they wouldn't be crawling all over each other while trying to get ready, and Isabelle liked sharing a room with Rupert. Jason preferred to be alone.

Tanya walked into the bungalow with trepidation. All she could think of was the last time she had been there, when she walked in on Gordon with his costar in his bed, and the unhappy scene that had followed. Before that her relationship with Douglas had ended on the doorstep, and her marriage had gone downhill with Peter, when he came down to L.A. to visit, or possibly before that. But she still remembered all too clearly when he had looked around the bungalow miserably and predicted she would never come home after the life she led in L.A. In the end, he was wrong, and he was the one who had left her. She had gone home, and now she was finally leaving again. Maybe this time for good. But to a different life, the one she hoped to share with Phillip in Italy, and maybe one day in England. They hadn't decided yet where they wanted to live. And they had yet to try their wings. Although so far, after two months with him in England, and three months since in Marin, everything seemed to be going extremely well. And they had rented the house in Florence for a year. Their journey had begun.

Tanya hadn't wanted to stay in the bungalow with him, because she had been there with too many men. She had written three movies there, cried over Peter, backed away from Douglas, and cavorted with Gordon, for a while at least. They had had fun, but it didn't last long. She didn't want to stay with Phillip in a room she had shared with three other men at different times. And she looked unhappy as she walked into the bedroom. She felt instantly attacked by ghosts. She had been through too many stages of her life in these rooms. But the hotel insisted they had no other suite or bungalow to give them. It was their only choice. And Phillip instantly saw the expression on her face. She looked first wistful, and then troubled as soon as the bellman set their bags down in the room.

“Have you stayed here before?” he asked, as he looked around and then at her. He could sense her reluctance to be there, when only minutes before she had been elated at the evening that lay ahead and the possible outcome. She desperately wanted him to win the award.

“Yes, I have,” she said quietly, not bothering to push the furniture around this time to the way she liked it. She didn't feel possessive about the rooms anymore, she had no proprietary interest in the bungalow, and it no longer felt like home.

“I lived here off and on for two years, writing my first three movies.”

“Alone?” he inquired cautiously. He could see shadows in her eyes. They were shadows of old ghosts.

“Most of the time. I was married when I first came here. I mourned my marriage to Peter in this room.”

“And others?” She nodded. She had not gone into detail about the other men in her life. She didn't think he needed to know, only that she had gone out with a producer and an actor, and that the relationships had ended before he came along. Phillip suddenly felt as though there were a crowd of people in the room with them. There hardly seemed like there was room for the two of them. “Does it bother you to stay?”

“It's the only room they've got.” She shrugged and then kissed him. “It's all right. I feel as though these are old chapters of my life, in a very old book. It's time to put it away.” She already had. Maybe it was right that she came here with him and exorcised the past. Their future was bright, and they had a long stretch of open road ahead of them. This was the last gasp of her old life. The days of disappointments, broken promises, and lost dreams. Theirs was the dawning of new hope, for both of them. She felt silly suddenly for being upset about the bungalow. All that mattered now was that she was there with him. The past no longer mattered.

The girls dressed in their room late that afternoon, and helped Rupert and Isabelle to get dressed. Jason had arrived from Santa Barbara and put on his tux. And then all five of them went to the bungalow to find their respective parents. Phillip was putting on his shoes, and Tanya was almost dressed. She had on her underwear and high heels, her jewelry, and her makeup and hair were done. She put on her dress, and the girls arrived just in time to zip her up.

“Wow, Mom, you look gorgeous,” Megan said admiringly, as Phillip smiled at her and whistled. She was wearing a long, sexy, red dress that showed off her figure and was a knockout.

“You look pretty wow yourself,” she said to all of them, and then turned to Phillip and kissed him. A long look passed between them, with all the love she felt for him in her eyes. Her life had finally come to a peaceful place, and everything around them felt right.

All seven of them got into the limousine shortly after. When they got to the Beverly Hilton, where the Golden Globes were held, they had to go through the obstacle course of the red carpet. Hundreds of photographers stopped them, flashed their picture, and called her name, while sticking microphones in their faces. It was just like the Academy Awards. Phillip had never been to any of the awards ceremonies before, and he looked dazzled as they finally made it to the other side, when Tanya was stopped and asked to comment. She smiled and said something inane, and then joined the others again.

“They don't kid around, do they?” Phillip commented as they picked up their escort cards and began the search for their table. It was another half hour before they had waded through people, many of whom she knew and who greeted her enthusiastically, and found their table, and sat down. And it was another hour after that, as dinner was served, before the ceremony started. They began with awards for television first.

Their children were fascinated to watch, and excited to see stars everywhere around them. Tanya's children had seen enough of it in the past two years to be slightly more jaded. Phillip's children were young and so new to this that they didn't know who they were seeing or where to look first. Tanya put Isabelle's napkin on her lap, and helped her cut her chicken, while talking to Phillip and telling him in undertones who people were as they drifted by, chatting from table to table. She introduced him to everyone who stopped to say hello, including Max, who hugged her warmly and said he missed her. He was with a very attractive older woman.

It seemed an eternity before they got to the meat of the matter with feature films. Tanya had not been nominated for the screenplay, but Phillip had been nominated as the producer for Best Picture. Tanya squeezed his hand and held her breath, as they called off the names of the nominees for Best Picture. And as they always did, they showed a brief clip of each film. The one of Phillip's movie riveted people to their chairs, and stopped just as the female lead was about to die. There was a gasp as the clip came to an end. And then Gwyneth Paltrow held the envelope, tore it open, smiled, paused for an agonizing minute, and read off Phillip's name. As she had when she won the Oscar the year before, for an instant Tanya felt dazed. But it hit her faster this time, and she looked at him with wide eyes as he stared at her, unable to believe what he had just heard. He stood up unsteadily out of his chair, bent to kiss her, kissed each of his kids, and hurried toward the stage.