Hideaway Page 50
“Sweets, it’s as good as Luigi’s—but don’t tell him I said so. And you baked Italian bread.”
“It was fun. Nan and I learned how to bake bread from a neighbor in Ireland. It took me back there, brought her back to me. Plus, I wanted to surprise you.”
“I haven’t been this surprised since I got my first gray hair—and this is a lot happier. I don’t suppose you can do an encore the next time your granddaddy’s here.”
“I know you miss him.”
“It’s hard to find the time or energy to miss anything, but I do. The damn old goat’s got his hooks in me.”
“Did you always know?” Wondering, wondering, Cate toyed with the little gold heart around her neck Noah had given her for her eighteenth birthday. “I mean right from the start that you loved him?”
“I’d go with attracted to, which irritated the holy hell out of me. I’d had a marriage go bad, was hitting that age where Hollywood wants to flick you off if you’re a woman. Actually, I’d been bouncing off that for some time. I’ve got two kids in college, and what I saw as the fight of my life to stay relevant as a film actor. Then he comes along.”
“And he’s so handsome,” Cate said with wiggling eyebrows to make Lily laugh.
“Child, that man got a triple scoop of good looks out of God’s goody bag. Now, being an actor of a certain age in Hollywood, I’m cast as the eccentric aunt—at least they didn’t make me her mother—of his love interest. Nobody blinks that he’s twenty years older, it’s not even part of the story.”
“But you got the hero in real life.”
“I did, not on purpose, but I did.” Considering her girl, Lily stabbed more penne. “You’re old enough to hear I thought—we both thought—we’d just have some fine sex, then move on. God knows neither of us intended to ever get married again. I had the bad, he’d had the damn near perfect.”
Pacing—the story, the meal—Lily set down her fork to take a tiny sip of wine. “Olivia Dunn was the love of his life. When we started realizing it wasn’t just sex, however fun, between us, I had to give that fact some hard thought. Could I stick with a man who had that kind of love, still had that kind of love, in him for another woman?”
She took another tiny sip from the single glass of wine she allowed herself on the night before a dress rehearsal. “You know what I figured? Any man who had that kind of love in him, well, I’d be a fool to walk away from what he’d have in him for me. And my mama, she didn’t raise a fool for a daughter.”
“All my life, it was seeing how you are, the two of you, that showed me what love is, or, I guess, could be.”
“Then we did something right.” She set the wine down. “That leads me comfortably into a subject I’d hoped you’d bring up with me. But since you haven’t, I’m just going to poke right in like the bear into the honeycomb. And hope I don’t get my nose stung. It’s charming, my sweets, that you and Noah think you’re keeping your relationship on the down low.”
“I . . .”
“I even understand why you’re trying to keep it quiet—though for heaven’s sake, Catey girl, it’s theater. We’re a gossipy bunch, and we dearly love sex and drama.”
Trepidation about what would come tangled with relief of letting go of a secret. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”
“Then somewhere along the line I did something wrong if you don’t know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I do know. I’m sorry. That’s not fair. Most of it’s me. It’s been so good, just so good not to have to worry about what people might read about me, or hear about me, or say. She’s so into her engagement, her big wedding plans, she doesn’t need me to get press right now, and I just don’t want to give anybody anything. I did tell Darlie, and Mallory knows. And Noah’s roommates. I started to tell you so many times, but . . . I didn’t really know how.”
“Let’s start with this, and hell, I’m breaking my rule and having a second glass of wine. You can have one with me. It’s an occasion.”
Before Lily could get up for the bottle, Cate jumped up, brought it and a second glass in from the kitchen. “Am I like driving you to drink now?”
Lily patted her hand. “You’re giving me an excuse to indulge myself. Did he give you that sweet necklace?”
“For my birthday.”
“He earns points there. It’s a thoughtful gift. I want to know if he’s sweet and thoughtful with you otherwise.”
“He is. He always walks me out to get a cab, waits until I’m driving away, and asks me to text him when I’m home safe. He listens to me, pays attention. He got me back into dance class, and I didn’t know how much I missed it until he did. He’s kept it quiet because I asked him to.”
“I’m going to tell you I asked around about him—that’s not only my privilege,” she continued, when Cate’s mouth opened, “it’s my duty. So I know he doesn’t drink or do drugs because he’s serious about his work. He comes from an interesting family—which we southern ladies appreciate and admire. He works hard, I see that for myself. And he’s good, he’s damn good. He can go places.”
It shined inside her, the approval she heard from the most important woman in her life. “He loves the theater.”
“It shows. Now, the big one. Are you being careful, both of you?”
“Yes. I promise you.”
“All right then, it’s time he started coming to the door instead of you meeting him outside, or wherever. I haven’t said anything to your father or to Hugh, and I won’t, as that’s for you. And I understand, I do, your need to keep it out of the press.” She leaned over to take Cate’s hand. “But it will get out, sooner or later. Both of you need to be ready for that.”
“I’ll talk to him about it.”
“Good. When are you seeing him again?”
“I was going to meet him after rehearsal tomorrow, and . . .” She caught the arched eyebrows. “I’ll have him come to the door.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It delighted Cate how easily Lily and Noah hit it off. How could she not love listening to two of her favorite people sit and exchange theater stories?
When Lily insisted he come for dinner, he brought flowers for both of them. And that pretty much sealed it all around.
She missed them both, almost painfully, when the play had its out-of-town openings in San Francisco and Chicago.
But they both had to focus, as she saw it. And it gave her several days to find out how she handled living on her own.
For the first time in her life, she thought, standing on the terrace in balmy air, eating Chinese takeout from the carton. No anxiety, no nightmares, just her own routine.
Good long walks every day and daily yoga practice. Dance class, though it made her miss Noah all the more. Afternoon research on the courses she’d take in a few weeks.
Two abortive attempts at writing a screenplay, both so bad she trashed them. She’d still take the course, she decided, but had a feeling her area of talent didn’t extend to writing.