Rugged(80)

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Would you excuse me one second?” I leave them all and head into the restaurant to call David. I’m pretty sure I can get him out here tomorrow on the production’s dime, first class all the way. Shouldn’t be that hard. All I have to do is title him a show consultant, and he’ll be drinking complimentary champagne at thirty thousand feet by nine AM. This business does have its perks.





30


“God, why are you bringing me here? To show me all the amazing things I’m missing out on in life?” Callie mumbles as she meets me in the lobby of the Peninsula. The walls are white marble and pastel tile, and the air smells like gardenias. All around us are bellhops in crisp uniforms wheeling the luggage of Beverly Hills elite. Gorgeous, suntanned women waltz over to the Palm Court to have tea. Callie smiles and looks down at the twins. “Auntie Laurel says we’re going to go sightseeing, but mommy really thinks she could use a nap for the rest of her life.”

“Oh, there it is! I knew I dropped it,” I say, rushing back to pick up the phone I ‘accidentally’ let slip out of my purse. “Phew! I sure was worried.” I even mime wiping sweat off my brow. Man, I’m an acting god.

“Laurel, come on. Let’s just go,” Callie moans. “You used the bathroom. Twice. Let’s get some lunch.”

“Oh, we’ll be going in just a minute,” I say, laughing a little falsely. Yep, I’ll be leaving with your kids, Callie. Then you get to have some wild afternoon delight with your husband. Not the greatest visual I have ever treated myself to, but it’s meant with love. “I just need to check that all my, er, data is still there. Like. That none of it fell out.” I check the phone again. I am not the world’s greatest liar.

Callie crouches down over the kids to wipe their faces—apparently you can spit up at any time of the day if you try hard enough—and I look back over my shoulder. Come on, Flint. Another few minutes of this and I’m going to have to literally tap dance to get us to stay.

“Laurel?” Callie sounds more than tired; she sounds sad. “What if my marriage really is falling apart?” She looks up at me, her eyes bright with tears. “What if David is tired of me? Of us? All of it, the kids, the house, the—”

“Hey.” I crouch down next to her, giving Lily a dropped bottle. “No one could get tired of you. You’re a gorgeous, fun, snappy woman. I mean, who doesn’t love that?”

Callie sighs and takes the tissue I offer. “I’m just afraid we’re never going to get back to where we were before the kids were born. You know? Rested. Happy. Having sex. Happily having sex.”

“Well, there’s always another chance,” I say, grinning as we get up and I point to the doors. “Look who just waltzed in.”

Callie turns around, a puzzled look on her face. The bemused expression evaporates when she finds that the mystery man, standing there with a suitcase in hand, is none other than David. Flint’s next to him, looking from his brother-in-law to his sister with quick, calculating glances. I can practically see the thought bubble over his head: ‘Okay, no one’s killed anyone yet. Things are going smoothly.’

“David?” Callie’s voice is soft and startled. She looks a lot younger when she’s surprised—the almost permanent frowny V crease in her forehead lifts entirely. David comes toward his wife slowly, looking like he’s walking into a dream.

“Callie?” David sets his bag down. The two of them stare at each other for a minute. Neither moves; it’s almost like they don’t dare to breathe.

“David,” she says, her voice soft with wonder. A small smile.

And then the toddlers in their stroller squeal, “Dada!” Callum shrieks and kicks his legs, and Lily starts crying. Both David and Callie blink, as if coming out of a trance. Their children’s squeals are all it takes to get the potential lovebirds to start pecking at each other.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Callie snaps, reaching down to shush Lily. She bounces her daughter on her hip while glaring at David. “Don’t you have to work? Isn’t that what you always have to do?”

I sidle away from them and next to Flint. “This was a good idea, right?” I mutter out of the side of my mouth.

“Last I checked, it was your boyfriend’s idea, not mine,” Flint answers, sounding gruff. That stuns me for a minute; he thinks Thomas is my boyfriend? I mean if I had a penis, he might be right on the money. Still, not the time to think of it. I might have to step in and referee before one of the Winstons kills the other.

“At least I put a roof over my family’s head with all my terrible goddamn work,” David snaps, picking up his bag again. Uh oh. Ten four, he’s leaving the hotel. “I don’t sit around all day watching bad television, wishing my life was different.”

“Oh, because being neglected all day long with no one over the age of 2 to talk to and an endless load of housework is such a picnic!” Callie steps into David, and he looks a little startled. Well, to be fair to him, Callie angry is a pretty terrifying sight. I think her face is actually turning a shade of puce.

“I just want to be appreciated,” David says, straightening his shoulders and meeting Callie glare for glare.

“So do I!” she says. Okay, more like she shouts. We’re starting to attract attention from hotel guests and the concierge. I step in quickly, before we get asked to leave and have to dump a squalling David and Callie at the Motel 6.