Chapter 16
Pat
As I sat at the police station after Bill had tried to kidnap me, to say that I felt shocked was an understatement — I was sitting there telling the police that my husband was a kidnapper. If anyone had told me that four months ago, I would have laughed. What I’d realized when speaking to the psychologist though was that the Bill I knew wasn’t the man that had done all this tonight. The man tonight had been drinking for a month straight and, apparently, they’d found traces of antidepressants in his blood that when combined with the alcohol and the meltdown he’d had when I left, had turned him into this version of himself. He’d had a psychosis of sorts.
The psychologist also made me realize that the initial shock I’d felt when discovering Bill with the prostitute wasn’t so much a shock that he’d slept with her, as a shock that I’d let it go on for as long as I had. I already knew he was cheating. I already knew he was lying to me. Sure, I’d never expect him to bring the cheating to our home, but I’d been aware that he was not honoring our marriage vows, or me as a person.
The psychologist had rebuilt my faith in myself by asking me what my judgment of Bill had been — a fun loving man who loved women and kept flirting even after we got married and, some years later, started having sex when away on business. If I’d listened to myself, if I’d stopped to actually ask myself what I wanted in a relationship instead of holding onto Bill for dear life, I would have left years ago. And if I’d been around Bill the last few months, I would have seen tonight coming. There was no reason I had to avoid other men because I feared I didn’t know them — I knew Bill, I just chose to ignore his flaws in favor of his good sides, as they were many. I’d thought back then that I couldn’t do better than the fun loving Bill whose jokes made me cry from laughter and whose romantic side always floored me. But I could do better — I could have a man that was all that, and who also took the relationship seriously. I could have someone like Jeff.
As I left the police station, I felt lighter than I had in months.
When I came home, thanks to Uber, I took a deep breath before entering my chalet. I was scared of how I’d feel — would I fear someone else would invade my home? If I did, the psychologist told me I could call. But all I felt was relief. This was my home. And Bill was in prison where he’d receive both the help and the punishment that he deserved. Hopefully he’d walk away from all of this a better person once he’d had some time to think things through while serving his term, but that was his choice. He could also use this as an excuse to run his life to the ground. It really was his choice. I hoped that the man I once fell in love with was still there and that he’d one day ask my forgiveness, but again, that was his choice. Mine was to live my life as I wanted to. And I wanted to act, teach, be with Jeff and have a family. I wanted to live in Laurel Canyon where I belonged and wake up to a life that felt like my own in the mornings.
Exhausted, but also feeling liberated, I got out of my clothes and into my PJs. In the morning I’d have to figure out a way to thank Jeff, but for now I needed to sleep.
***
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of birdsong and with a wonderful idea inside my mind — I was going to apologize to and thank Jeff in the most spectacular way. Jeff had always loved my cooking back in the day and judging from our recent dates, he still loved food, he just hadn’t had any of mine of late.
My idea was pretty simple: get Monica to let me into the house before he got home and bring along the ingredients to cook an out of this world three-course meal.
I looked up to the ceiling, trying to think. There was the issue with Jeff possibly still being fuming mad at me. He had rescued me the night before, but why he’d showed up in the first place I didn’t know. Possibly to have me sign papers saying I’d no longer be acting in his series if it went ahead. But I’d like to think he’d shown up to talk — if it was just paperwork, he could have mailed it, or had his lawyers deal with it.
Pleased with that conclusion, I got out of bed. Now I just had to decide what to cook and get hold of Monica. I knew he loved chocolate, so the desert would be a triple layer chocolate cake, covered in chocolate ganache. But the starter and the main? I wasn’t too sure. Seafood maybe?
As I got dressed, I decided to head down to Raspberry to chat with Jillian about it. I needed her culinary genius.
***
Later that afternoon, following a mad rush of shopping at Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s, as well as studying my lines, I was ushered into Monica and her husband’s cottage.
“Thanks, Monica, I really appreciate this.”
“Don’t thank me — I saw how he looked at you. Hasn’t looked that way at any woman since Shaun’s mother died. And, you know, she was a wonderful woman, but she had so many problems. You seem a lot healthier and Jeff deserves to be happy, truly happy, with someone who knows how to look after themselves and can also spoil him from time to time.”
I smiled. Apparently, I’d not been paying enough attention to how Jeff looked at me. I shook my head. Once again: the clues were right there, if only I had bothered to look. People aren’t such big mysteries after all. And Jeff didn’t bail when I had my emotional ups and downs. That in and of itself proved that he cared enough to stick around. Maybe he cared too much actually, I pondered, thinking about his ex. He needed to learn to look after himself first, just as I needed to learn to look after myself first. Well, we could help each other with that.
Monica gave me a quick tour of the kitchen to show me everything I needed, including where to find the china and candles to set the table with. Then she left me to my own devices, saying I probably had about two hours till Jeff got home — he’d promised to tuck in Shaun tonight and he was good with his word.
***
Exactly two hours later, I took out two soufflés from the oven for our starter. They needed time to “rest” as Julia Child repeatedly told me in her instructions that I had watched on YouTube many times over the years while making soufflés, but I figured Jeff was going to tuck in Shaun first.
The main was a nice linguine, with pan fried shrimps. As both the fresh linguine and shrimps took about two minutes to cook, I just prepared the salad and gotten the rest of the ingredients ready for when we’ll have finished the starter.
I set the table and put a chandelier in the middle. I dimmed the lights in the cottage and lit the candles as I waited.
Suddenly I heard voices.
“Seriously Jeff, this leak seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. I have called a plumber, as I said, but I really think you should have a look at it tonight.”
Then they opened the door and Jeff stepped inside, as Monica shut the door behind him, winking at me.
“What…” Jeff started.
“Surprise,” I said. “I wanted to do something for you for rescuing me last night and I know I was horrible the last days on set, I was just going through so much of inner turmoil. I’m not always like that, you know. I mean, you do know. You know me. You’ve known me for twenty years, but the past few months have been…challenging. And I was really stupid, and just so scared after what happened with Bill and the new career and then he showed up on set and… I’m babbling. I’m sorry. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” I stopped my ramble, tears in my eyes and finally looked up to meet Jeff’s eye.
He smiled.
