Danielle Steel - One Day at a Time

“Yeah, me too,” Coco said, as tears filled her eyes. “Jane was right. It's just too scary.”

“It would be for most people,” Liz said compassionately. “He understands that. He loves you, and he doesn't want to screw up your life.” She didn't tell her that Leslie had been crying when he called her. He was terrified he had lost her forever. And from what Liz could see in her eyes, she had a strong suspicion that could be the case.

“Why did that have to happen?” Coco said miserably. “Everything was so perfect before that. We had a wonderful time. I've never been happier in my life, and he's such a good person.”

“I know he is. But this is part of his life too. Maybe it's better that you saw it. Now you know what you'd be dealing with.” It would help her make the right decision, one she could live with.

“It's a terrible way to live,” Coco said, thinking of the moment the night before when she had fallen back into the boat. She couldn't get it out of her mind, and was completely shaken by it.

Liz told her to sit on a bench and wait for her while she went to get the car, and she was back a few minutes later. Coco still looked dazed as the porter put her bags in the back of the car. “What did Jane say?” Coco asked glumly as they drove away from the airport.

Liz glanced over at her from the driver's seat and then back at the road. “I didn't tell her. It's up to you what you want to say. She doesn't need to know about this, if you don't want her to.” Coco nodded, grateful to Liz for her kindness and discretion. “Being scared of paparazzi attacks doesn't make you a bad person. Any sane person would hate living like that. I'm sure he does too. It just happened to him. He doesn't have much choice in the matter.” Coco nodded. She knew it was true.

“It's a terrible reason not to stay with someone you love,” Coco said, feeling guilty. She loved him. But she hated what came with his success and his life. She didn't want to be hiding and running and wearing wigs as she sneaked out the back door for the rest of her life. It was a miserable existence. And the furor in the eyes of the paparazzi the night before had been the most frightening thing she had ever seen. “I was afraid they were going to kill us,” she explained, and Liz nodded as Coco started to cry again. Liz realized that she was traumatized by what had happened.

“Apparently so was Leslie. He feels terrible about it.”

“I know,” Coco said softly. “He was wonderful to me after.”

“We're going to the doctor, by the way.”

“I don't want to. I just want to go home,” Coco said, sounding exhausted.

“Leslie says you have to. They set your wrist without doing an X-ray. They were afraid to take you out of the hotel again. The paparazzi were still outside. So you have to get the wrist looked at and checked.” Coco nodded. She was too tired and upset to argue with her. Liz had made an appointment at an orthopedist she knew.

They went to Laurel Village for the appointment. And the orthopedist confirmed that it was broken, and said they had done a fine job of setting it in Italy. He replaced the cast with an identical one, and an hour later they were on their way to the beach.

“You don't have to take me home,” Coco said miserably, and Liz smiled at her.

“I could let you walk, I guess, or hitch-hike. But what the hell, it's a nice day. It'll do me good to go to the beach.” For the first time in hours, Coco smiled.

“Thank you for being nice to me,” she said softly, and then she remembered. “How's the baby?”

“Growing every day. Jane looks fabulous, but it looks like it's going to be a big baby.” She was six months pregnant by then, although Coco was in no hurry to see her. She would see immediately that something terrible had happened on the trip, and Coco didn't feel up to discussing it with her. Only with Liz. Liz was more like the big sister she wished she'd had, and never did.

Coco fell asleep in the car on the way to the beach, and Liz woke her gently when they were outside her cottage. Coco started, looked around, confused for a minute, and then looked at her house sadly. She wished she were back in Venice with him, and that the end had been different. For the first time ever, she didn't want to be in Bolinas. And she was afraid she could no longer be with him. It was a terrible situation for her.

“Come on, I'll take you in.” Liz carried her bags, and Coco unlocked the door. They hadn't stopped to pick up Sallie, but Liz had said she didn't mind keeping her for a few more days. Coco had enough to cope with right now with her wrist. All Liz had said to Jane was that she'd had an accident in Italy and broken her wrist.

“Thank you for picking me up at the airport,” Coco said as she hugged her. “I was a mess. I guess I still am.”

“Get some sleep. You'll feel better tomorrow. And don't try to figure it all out now. You'll know what to do.” Coco nodded, and Liz left.

Coco walked into her bedroom and put on her old faded pajamas. It was five o'clock in Bolinas and two in the morning in Venice. All she wanted to do now was sleep. She didn't even want to eat. It was too late to call Leslie, but she didn't want to anyway. She didn't know what to say to him. And maybe Liz was right, she thought to herself, as she got under the covers. She could figure it out later. Right now, all she wanted to do was try to forget what had happened and sleep.

Chapter 18

Leslie called Coco the day after she got home, to see how she was, and check on her wrist. He didn't tell her, but he had already called Liz the night before after Coco got back, at four in the morning for him. She told him they'd been to the doctor and they'd put another cast on. She said that Coco looked dazed and beaten up, but she was doing all right. She suggested he let the dust settle a little and give it some time. But he wanted Coco to know that he was thinking of her, so he called her the next day himself, from his trailer on the set. He said he missed her terribly and apologized again for what had happened.

“It's not your fault,” Coco tried to comfort him when he called her. But he could hear something different in her voice, as though she had already backed away. “How's the movie going?” she asked, trying to change the subject. She felt worse after the flight, but had gotten up anyway. Erin couldn't work for her that day, and she didn't want to let her clients down. The doctor said she could work if she felt up to it, but he didn't recommend it.

“It went pretty well today. Madison blew all her lines yesterday. But so did I, so I guess we were an even match.” He couldn't think straight after Coco left. His heart and mind had left with her. “I'm still hoping we make it home by Thanksgiving.” They would have been there for seven weeks by then. He wanted to come and see her after that, but he didn't dare say it. He could hear how shaken she still was, and so was he. There were pictures of them all over the European papers. He looked like a madman, trying to protect her, and she looked wide-eyed and terrified. There was even one of her as she fell back into the boat, headfirst. He could hardly stand looking at the photographs, and it just made him miss her more. So did talking to her. “Try to take it easy for a couple of days. You had a hell of a jolt to your system the other night.” And he suspected she'd be shaken up for a while, and have post-traumatic stress.

“I'm fine,” she said, feeling like a robot. It tore her heart out to talk to him too. She was more in love with him than ever after the trip to Italy, but the paparazzi attack had convinced her that she wasn't strong enough to deal with what he went through. It was no way for her to live. “I'm on my way to work,” she said, as she crossed the bridge while talking to him. Their time together in Venice felt like a lifetime away to her, and to him too.