This Is What Happy Looks Like(53)

“Just north of here,” she said, her jaw set. “He’s there with his family, and I’m gonna go up and see him tomorrow.”

“That’s what you were planning before?” he asked. “Does he know you’re coming?”

She shook her head.

“And you haven’t seen him since you were little?”

“Right,” she said with a nod.

“And does your mom know?”

Ellie bit her lip. “No.”

Graham sighed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“Aren’t movie stars supposed to be reckless and irresponsible?” she said, attempting a grin, but it was quick to falter.

“I just don’t think—”

“I don’t care,” she said, her voice infused with a flinty resolve. “I’ve already decided.”

Graham hesitated for a moment, and then he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Then I’m coming too.”

She looked surprised. “No, you’re not.”

“We’ve got the day off shooting, and I’ve got nothing to do on the Fourth anyway,” he said. “We’ll make a road trip out of it.”

“You’re way too conspicuous.”

“I’ll blend in.”

In spite of herself, she laughed. “Not possible.”

“I promise,” he said. “I’ll wear a cowboy hat. And a fake mustache.”

“That’s not the slightest bit melodramatic.”

“Occupational hazard,” he said with a grin.

“How about this?” Ellie said, rising to her feet, the towel still slung around her shoulders. “I’ll sleep on it.”

“Fine,” he said, standing up too. “But I’ll start getting my costume ready just in case.”

As they began to walk up the beach, he reached for her hand. They were quiet, the rocks crunching beneath their feet, the waves rushing up to the shore behind them.

Three more days, Graham was thinking.

He didn’t want to miss a single one of them.

“So are you done for the day?” Ellie asked without looking at him, her head bent as she picked her way over the uneven terrain.

“I am,” he told her. “You free tonight?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, and he could almost hear the laughter in her voice. “I figure we could take a stroll through town, go to the Lobster Pot, maybe make out a little on the village green…”

“Very funny,” he said as they reached the little bank that separated the beach from the trees, and together, they scrambled up the slope. “How about a picnic? We can meet right back here later.”

She nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

It was darker in the grove, where a bluish dusk had settled into every pocket of space, and Graham allowed himself to be led by Ellie, stumbling a bit as they felt their way toward the street. There was something dreamlike about it, with only the grumble of their footsteps and the sound of their breathing, her smaller hand in his, guiding him along. The beach was only a few yards behind them and the road only a few yards ahead, but right here amid the trees, it felt like they were a million miles away from anything. So when the first flash went off up ahead, it took a moment for him to realize what it was.

If he’d been in Los Angeles or New York, or even just up the road in the middle of Henley, his mind would have moved faster, but here in the gathering dusk, emerging from the solitude of the beach, he was slow to understand the implications. In front of him, Ellie had come to an abrupt stop, dropping his hand. But even as the second light went off and the scene took on a fumbling clarity—the glint of a motorcycle, the flurry of footsteps, another flash—all he could do was stand there, blinking.

“Graham,” came the first shout, and beside him, he could feel Ellie stiffen. “Graham, can you give us a smile? How about a kiss?” There were only three of them, but it felt like more; it felt like they were surrounded.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” one of them asked Ellie, an enormous bald guy who’d been lurking around town since the film crew first arrived. He took a step forward, pacing the edge of the road. They were still mostly hidden in the trees, but there was nowhere else to go from here. “Can we just get one shot?”

It took a moment for Graham to regain himself. He turned to Ellie, grabbing the towel that was slung over her shoulder and whipping it in front of her. When she realized what he was doing, she took it from him, burying her face behind the pattern of seahorses. He put an arm around her shoulders, and though he could feel her resistance, he urged her forward anyway, the two of them tripping over roots and rocks as they made their way up toward the street.

All three of the photographers were snapping pictures now, and it felt different, seeing them here on a quiet stretch of road with no one else around, ominous and just a little bit threatening. They backed up a few steps as Graham’s feet hit the pavement, and he tucked Ellie closer to him, hurrying them in the opposite direction without a word.

“C’mon, Graham,” the bald guy said, jogging out in front of him, then backpedaling, his camera bumping against his chest. The other two were flanking them, trotting along the shoulder of the road, and Graham glared at the guy to his left.