He knew that moving into the gatehouse had been a good thing, but what he also knew now was that he had brought Maggie with him. She went with him everywhere, in his heart, in his head, in his bones, in his body. She was part of him now, part of every thought and reaction. Part of the way he looked at things, and what he believed, and wanted. Sometimes he felt more Maggie than Jimmy. He saw everything through her eyes. She had taught him so much. He wondered sometimes if that was why she had died. Because she had taught all the lessons she was meant to. But thinking that still didn't make it any easier for him. He missed her unbearably, and the pain he felt night and day was barely tolerable. Nothing made it better. He managed to stave it off for a few hours sometimes, like when he hung out with Mark, or went to work, or coached softball to the kids he worked with. But it was always waiting there for him, like an old friend, the pain that lurked everywhere and waited to overtake him. It was a fight he couldn't seem to win. For the moment, the pain was still winning.

He had just decided not to bother cooking anything, when he heard a knock on the door, and got up to answer it. He was looking tired and disheveled, and smiled when he saw it was Mark. Jimmy saw less of him now, because Mark was busy with his children. He had to cook dinner for them, and help them with homework. But he often called Jimmy and invited him to join them for dinner. Jimmy liked Jessica and Jason, and being with them was fun. But that made him lonely too. It reminded him that he and Maggie should have had children, and now he would never have her babies, or her arms to hold him ever again.

“I just bought groceries,” Mark explained, “I thought I'd stop by and see if you want to come for dinner.” Sometimes, Mark knew, it was better to drop in on him. It was good to get in his face and drag him out of his cave. Jimmy isolated a lot, and Mark knew he was having a tough time about Maggie. Even more so lately. It was as though with the nice weather, and the feeling of spring everywhere, he was even more lonely for her.

“Naw…it's okay…but thanks I brought a mountain of shit home from work. I'm always out doing home visits, and I never seem to be able to get anything done in the office.” He looked pale and tired to Mark, and he felt sorry for him. It had been a rough stretch for Jimmy, and Mark knew it. He'd had a tough time too, but things had gotten better for him when his kids came back to California to live with him. He just hoped something happened soon to make things easier for Jimmy. He was a bright, good-looking guy, and a nice one. They hadn't even had time to lob tennis balls at each other lately. The kids were keeping him too busy, and he never seemed to have any free time.

“You've got to eat anyway,” Mark said practically, “why not let me cook for all of us? I have to feed the kids in a few minutes. I'm making ribs and burgers.” It was almost a steady diet for them. He had promised the kids he'd buy a cookbook and learn how to make something else.

“Honest, I'm fine,” Jimmy said, looking tired. He knew Mark was trying to be a good Samaritan, and he appreciated it. He just wasn't in the mood to see people. He hadn't been in months, and it was getting worse lately. He had stopped working out, and hadn't been to a movie since the last one he'd been to with Maggie. It was as though by living a full life now, he would have felt he was being unfaithful to her.

“Oh, by the way, I almost forgot…” Mark said with a broad grin. “I have a little tidbit about our landlord.” He handed Jimmy a copy of one of the tabloids. He had seen it at the grocery store, and bought it to show Jimmy. It was too bad, but Mark had to admit, it amused him. The guy was a real shaker and mover. “Page two.” Jimmy opened the tabloid and his eyes grew wide.

“Holy shit.” There was a picture of Coop that covered half the page, and another photograph next to it of a sexy woman with long, black hair, and Asian eyes. The article was full of alleged details and innuendos about their passionate love affair, their love child, gossip about him, and a list of the many well-known women he'd been involved with. “My, my,” Jimmy said with a grin, as he handed the paper back to Mark. “I wonder if Alex has seen it? It's not much fun to be going out with a guy who gets himself in that kind of trouble. And she looks like a pretty straight shooter.”

“I don't think it's a big deal with them,” Mark surmised, “she's only been around for about ten minutes. And they don't seem to last longer than that with Coop. I think I've seen three so far since I moved in here. Keeps things interesting though, doesn't it?”

“For him at least. I'll bet he's real thrilled about the baby.” Jimmy couldn't help laughing at him. “Imagine having him as your father.”

“He'll be close to ninety when the kid goes to college,” Mark added.

“Yeah, and he'll probably be sleeping with coeds,” Jimmy ventured. It was an uncharitable exchange, but the tabloid article titillated them both, and as Mark left, Jimmy promised to come to dinner on the weekend.

Coop wasn't nearly as amused as he discussed the article with Alex when they had dinner that night. He was profoundly upset by it, and the fact that the news was out. And he was very glad he had warned Alex beforehand.

“Look, you've been in the tabloids a million times. It's part of your business. If you weren't who you are, no one would give a damn who you sleep with.”

“It was filthy of her to go to the tabloids.” He was livid, but Alex was calm.

“But predictable probably.” Alex tried to soothe him by assuring him that it didn't matter to her. And eventually, everyone would forget about the baby, if they ever heard about it in the first place. “Not everyone reads the tabloids,” she reminded him. He was relieved that she was so philosophical about it. It made things a lot easier for him.

They went out for pizza that night, and Alex did everything she could to distract him. But it wasn't easy. He was in a glum mood, and then when they got back to his place, he remembered something he had wanted to ask her. He invited her to go to the Academy Awards with him, and she was startled and delighted, and then looked suddenly worried.

He gave her the date, and she was pensive. “I'll have to see if I can get the night off. I think I'm working.”

“Can you trade it?” He knew the drill now.

“I'll try. I've been doing a lot of trading lately. I'm using up all my tickets.”

“This is a big one,” he said, hoping she would come. Not only did he want to share it with her, but he wanted to be seen with her. She lent an aura of respectability to him, and at the moment he needed that to counter the dirt Charlene was spewing. But he didn't want to explain that to Alex. Those were the inner machinations of Hollywood, and he thought he'd spare her the details.

She was spending the night with him again, although she had been reluctant to at first. But he was so uncomfortable in her apartment and it was always such a mess, it was easier just staying with him. Her studio was more like a giant laundry basket than an apartment. Coop had taken to calling it “the hamper.” And she enjoyed being at The Cottage. She loved being able to swim at night, and didn't mind running into Mark's children. There was something so peaceful and relaxing about the place. It was easy to see why Coop loved it and had hung on to it through thick and thin.

Two days later, she told him she had made another trade to get off for the Academy Awards, and then she panicked when she realized she had nothing to wear, and no time to shop for it. The only evening dress she had was the one she had worn to the Schwartzes' the night she met him. And she needed something fancier if she was going to the Academy Awards with Cooper Winslow.

“I never thought I'd be doing something like that,” she said with a giggle as she cuddled up to him that night. He was pleased she was going with him. There was another article about Charlene in one of the other tabloids. The flak was hot and heavy. But aside from that, he also loved the idea of sharing a major event with Alex. “I have nothing to wear, you know. I may have to go in scrubs and clogs. I don't have much time off between now and then to go shopping, if any.”

“Leave that to me,” he said mysteriously. He knew a lot more about clothes than she did. He had been paying for women's wardrobes for years, and selecting them for them when they didn't know how. It was one of his many skills. And he was generous to a fault.

“If you buy something, I'll pay for it,” she reminded him. She had no intention of becoming a kept woman. And unlike the other women he had gone out with, she was perfectly able to pay for her own extravagances, and intended to do so. But she appreciated his offer to find something for her.

She fell asleep that night dreaming of being at a ball, and wearing an enormous gown that swirled around her as she danced and danced with a handsome prince who looked just like Coop. He was the handsome prince. And she was beginning to feel like a fairy princess. The fact that one of the townsfolk was having his baby didn't seem to matter to her at all.





Chapter 15

The night of the Academy Awards came faster than Alex expected. It was two weeks after he'd invited her, and it was later than usual this year, in the third week of April. And true to his word, Coop had found her a fabulous dress at Valentino. It was midnight blue satin and the most elegant thing she'd ever seen, bias cut, and it showed off her flawless figure. All it needed, when she tried it on, was to be shortened. He had borrowed a sable jacket for her from Dior, and a sapphire necklace that took her breath away, with matching bracelet and earrings.

“I really do feel like Cinderella,” she said as she modeled it for him. He had also hired a hairdresser and makeup artist, to do her hair and makeup. And in order to save time, she dressed at his place.

She arrived from the hospital in scrubs, and three hours later, she emerged. Presto magic, a fairy princess. Better than that. She looked like a young queen as she came down the stairs from the master bedroom. He was waiting for her in the front hall, and he beamed when he saw her. She looked elegant and beautiful and very striking. She looked every inch the aristocrat she was, and when she looked in the mirror, she was surprised to see that she was reminded of her mother. Her mother had gone to balls dressed like that when Alex was a little girl. She even remembered a blue dress a little like it. But even her mother had never owned sapphires like the ones Coop had borrowed from Van Cleef and Arpels. They were enormous, and they suited Alex to perfection.

“Wow!” he said, and then bowed when he saw her. He was wearing one of the many dinner jackets he owned, that he had made by his tailor in London. He was wearing perfect patent leather pumps, and sapphire studs and cuff links that were his own, and not borrowed. They had been the gift of a Saudi princess, whose father had banished her to God knows where, rather than let her marry Coop. Coop often said that she had been sold into white slavery rather than allowed to become Mrs. Winslow. It made a good story, and the sapphire studs and links were very impressive. “You look incredible, my love,” he said, as they exited together.

Nothing he had told her had prepared her for the fanfare of the award ceremony. It was still broad daylight when they got there. There was a long red carpet going in, and an endless wagon train of limousines waiting to disgorge their contents. Beautiful women in expensive gowns, wearing dazzling jewels, were the norm, and photographers were pressing and shoving to take their pictures. Many of them were well-known actresses, and Coop usually attended the Oscars with one of them, but this year it meant more to him to go with Alex. They were the epitome of aristocratic respectability as they made their way slowly down the red carpet. Alex was wearing staggeringly high blue satin heels, and she was grateful for Coop's arm to keep her upright. And she smiled shyly as hundreds of cameras took their picture. Coop hadn't said it to her, but she reminded him of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. She was beautiful, elegant, and distinguished. And as she turned toward yet another bank of cameras, as Coop waved at them like a visiting head of state, there was a whoop at the guest wing of The Cottage.

“Oh my God!… That's her!… It's… what's her name…you know…Alex!!! And him!” Jessica was pointing as all heads in the room turned. Jimmy was watching with them, as he had the Golden Globes with Mark, and Coop and Alex had gotten out of the limousine, and were walking slowly into the Oscars. “She looks gorgeous!” Jessica was more excited to see her than any movie star, because she knew her.