“Camilla, on the other hand, would probably be onto us,” Blake says.
I sigh. “I know we’re going to have to deal with the fallout from how badly that panel went in general, but I think first we need to figure out how we want to handle the issue with Claire.” Our agents and publicists have some really good suggestions for dealing with the public angle. But that’s not enough. I twist my lips, poking my omelet around with my fork. “However we do the public apology, I’d like to apologize in person to Claire, if she’s willing to see us. I feel terrible, and I don’t want her to think we’re just worried about PR.”
“Though I’d hardly fault her for thinking that.” He lets out a breath, his forehead creased.The revelation about Claire is hitting him hard, too. “But yeah, I agree. I don’t know that we have time, though, for an in-person meet-up until after we get back from Miami again.”
He’s right. We’ve got a private flight back tonight for another month of filming.
“Maybe we can at least get her on the phone.Then, if she’s up for it, schedule something for when we’re back.” I rub the tension knot forming right between my eyes. “Send her about a hundred apology fruit baskets in the meantime.” I haven’t been able to bring myself to read the interview, but from the texts I’ve gotten from both Josh andTara, it sounds pretty bad. She’s mad at us, and I don’t blame her. Not that I think the harassment wouldn’t have happened at all if we had set things straight from the beginning—some people were bound to believe the rumors, no matter what we said—but our silence made things worse. It made us complicit in it.
Blake chuckles sadly. “Yeah, nothing says, ‘Sorry we implicated you in a nonexistent affair’ like a hundred fruit baskets.” But he gives my knee a squeeze, and I put my hand on his and see him relax a little.
I pause, not wanting to bring up more stressful issues. But lately it seems like there’s no avoiding them.
“What do we want to do about Ivy?” I finally ask, as we both watch the ducks drifting lazily on the sun-dappled pond.
Blake looks over at me. “Do you really think it’s best to keep her on set with us? For you, I mean?”
I don’t necessarily think what’s best for me matters if it’s best for Ivy, but I appreciate his concern. “I think it’ll help, knowing we can keep a closer eye on her. And I really liked the idea you had last night about having her walk Costanza instead of having Aaron do it. She could use some responsibility.”
“I’m sure Aaron could use a break from his role as Costanza’s personal fire hydrant.”
“She’ll still have to be under constant supervision,” I say. “Which she’ll hate. But what else can we do?”
Blake shakes his head. “Nothing. We’re doing everything we can.” He laces his fingers through mine. “Maybe this sounds terrible, but as much as I hate how stressful all this is for us and the kids, it’s so nice to be making these kinds of decisions together again.”
I smile. “Yeah, that part’s really nice.”
He looks back out at the ranch. George has managed to wrangle Daphne down from the feed shed, and she’s chewing on his pants leg while he scratches her head.The dog pack goes charging by, barking, and Daphne bleats angrily at them. Costanza lifts his head again. He’s curious about the dog pack. Friendly with them individually, but still too afraid to leave my side and join the group.
He’ll get there, but not until we get a chance to really settle in after filming’s done.
Blake tosses him a small piece of butter toast, which bounces off Costanza’s nose before he eagerly gobbles it up and paws at Blake’s leg for more. Blake smiles, but there’s something hesitant in his expression.
“Do you think,” he says, and then pauses. “Do you think there’s really a place for me here on the ranch?”
My heart constricts. Does he think there isn’t? Does he hope there isn’t, because it’s all too much for him? Does he—
“It’s just,” he says, “this place is so incredible. And you and the kids and Helene and George and—” he frowns, probably because he can’t remember the names of the other ranch workers he met. “You have this all worked out, the routine and structure. You know all the animals and every single thing they need, and it’s this well-oiled machine. And if I had been here from the beginning, I’d be part of it. You know? But . . .” He trails off.
My fears dissolve, because I get it now. He wants there to be a place for him, desperately.
I’m not the only one who needs to be assured that it’s going to be okay.
I hold his hand tight in mine. “Yes, there’s a place for you.There always has been.”
He looks over at me, his expression a mixture of doubt and hope.
“I needed this place after our divorce,” I continue, “because it felt like maybe it would give me this fresh start. Finally achieving this dream I’d always had. But it stopped being just my dream a long time ago. It was our dream, and it was like every piece of it was still a piece of you and me.” I can feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I loved making this happen, but there’s always been something missing without you.”
His own eyes are shining, and a single tear slips out.
Is Blakecrying?Blake?
“Really?” he asks.
“Really.”
Blake wipes away the tear, but then there’s another tracking down his cheek, and he swears and covers his face with his hands.
