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"Oh, that's nice," Mom said, and then she launched into a coughing fit that doubled her over and sent her scurrying to the kitchen, embarrassed. I pushed down the worry that rose in me. One thing at a time.
"Your mom's a nice lady," Jack said. "She sick?"
"Yeah."
Jack just nodded, keeping inside whatever he might think or feel about my mom, about my family.
We moved and lifted things into the truck outside, Mom trying to keep up a conversation with Jack the whole time. I realized Mom was lonely. She rarely left the house and Jarred was never around. Especially now.
By six o'clock, Mom was fluttering around the new cottage, exclaiming over the window coverings, the little patio out back surrounded with flowers. Juliet had moved her things into storage, but refused to call off the gardener or housekeeper, saying she'd be paying for those things whether anyone was living in the cottage or not. As much as I hated the charity, I felt relief too, that Mom would have more time to rest. Maybe make some friends. Now I just needed to figure out how to get her to go to the doctor.
I ordered food in, and we spent that first evening at the cottage sitting on the back patio, listening to sounds that were very different than those in Inglewood. Instead of planes approaching LAX, we heard the distant sounds of steadily moving traffic. Instead of sirens and the bass pumping from some passing car, we heard birds and the occasional dog barking.
Mom was smiling at me across the table. "You always take care of me," she said.
I didn't want her to cry, and I still needed to get to the hospital today to see Jarred, so I pushed my chair back and stood. "You deserve more, Mom. But I hope this will be a good change."
She stood and pulled me against her, her frail body like an insubstantial bunch of sticks pulled against my chest. "I love you, son," she whispered against my shoulder.
"I love you too, Mom. I'll be back Sunday, okay?" I told her. "Call me tomorrow and tell me how you're doing. If you need anything."
She nodded, the tears ready to fall, and I let myself out feeling like I was still carrying something heavy. Only there was no place to put this load down or unpack it.
Jarred had looked worse than ever when I’d finally gotten to the hospital but the doctor assured me he was actually getting better.
"Withdrawal is neither quick nor easy," she had said. "But we'll keep him here until he's through the worst of it."
"Thanks." I had no idea what to expect once he was moved to county jail. I just hoped he was strong enough to survive there until we could get through the mess he'd made.
Juliet was waiting for me at the top of the stairs in the darkness when I returned, and without a word, she stepped into my arms and held me.
"Are you okay?" she whispered finally.
"Yeah." Being in her arms made me feel like less of a liar.
She pulled away from me, looking up into my face for assurance, and I wondered what she saw there in the shadowy darkness. Whatever it was, I was happy for it, because she took my hand then, and pulled me into her room, shutting the door as Elvis curled into his satin bed and taking me to hers.
Chapter Seventeen
Juliet
Jace was quieter the next day or two, and each day he asked Chad or Jack to take over part of his shift so he could go to the hospital to see his brother and stop by his mom's new place—my place—on the way back. I didn't mind having Jack inside the house. There was something comforting in his presence, something calm about the atmosphere around him. Chad was still not my favorite, with his penchant for tabloid magazines and the interested looks I caught him sending my way sometimes. But if it made Jace's life easier, I would put up with Chad.
As long as Jace was with me when he got home. And for those incredible, perfect days, he was with me.
"Hey," he said to me one morning after we'd run. Since I wasn't working on a movie, we'd been able to get out to run a little more often, and I enjoyed being out of the house with him, feeling like we existed somewhere besides the rooms of the property that was both fortress and jail to me. "Would you want to meet my mom?"
My heart had leapt into my mouth, making it hard for me to answer. It felt important, it felt like a turning point. One that was about to be interrupted by my plans to begin a fake relationship with someone else. "Yes. Definitely."
"Ready in an hour?" He'd grinned as he said it, like the fact I wanted to meet his mom made him happy too. And that made me ecstatic. I wanted to make Jace happy, I realized. Whenever I could.
We'd gone in the security company's dark car, me sitting in the back behind tinted windows, wearing a ball cap and dark sunglasses that covered half my face. It was a private enough journey, from here to Brentwood, but the last thing I wanted was cameras interrupting what seemed like an important event.
When we pulled up to the familiar cottage, there were pots of overflowing Geraniums on the doorstep and the garden beds out front looked manicured and perfect. A woman knelt in front of one of them, a broad-brimmed hat on her head. She turned, squinting at the car as we parked at the curb.
"Mom's been gardening a lot," Jace said, shooting me a smile that made even my teeth feel glad. A little bundle of nerves popped around in my stomach as we got out of the car.
We approached the woman and she stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. Jace's mom was little, I thought with surprise. She couldn't have been more than five-foot-two, and she smiled up at us through a lined face that held dark coffee-colored eyes that were an exact match to the ones I adored. "Hello," I said.
