to Christmas in San Francisco with Florence. They were going to stay at the Ritz-Carlton and bring his daughter.
Coco was thinking about all of it as she flew back to San Francisco. She had left her van at the airport, and was relieved to drive back to Bolinas. It had been nice to see her family for two days, but she needed time to herself. She was still too sad about Leslie to want to be with people all the time. She needed time to mourn. She appreciated what Jane had said about him, but she knew better than anyone, after what had happened in Venice, that she couldn't lead that life. It was one thing to be the girlfriend of a movie star, it was another thing to be attacked by thirty men who could have killed them. She still remembered the feeling of terror as they surrounded them in the back alley, and later when she fell into the boat. If loving him meant living that way, she couldn't do it.
She let herself in to the cottage and looked around. It looked familiar and comfortable, like crawling back into the womb again. The weather was cold, and she wrapped herself in a blanket and went out to sit on the deck. She loved the beach in winter, and there were a million stars in the sky. She lay on the deck chair, looking at them, remembering when she'd been there with Leslie, and a tear crept slowly down her cheek.
Her cell phone rang then, and she dug it out of her pocket. It was from a blocked number, and Coco wondered who it was.
“Hello?”
“Hello.” There was a small funny voice at the other end. “This is Chloe Baxter. Coco, is that you?”
“Yes, it's me,” she said, smiling. “How are you?” She wondered if Leslie was with her, and had made it for Thanksgiving. Maybe it was a ploy to talk to her. But if so, she didn't care. She loved talking to Chloe. “How are the bears?”
“They're fine. And me too. How was your turkey?”
“Very nice. I had it with my mom and my sister, in L.A.”
“Is that where you are now?” She sounded very interested, and as usual, very grown up.
“No, I'm at the beach. Looking up at the stars. It's late for you. If you were here, we could toast marshmallows and have s'mores.”
“Yumm,” she said, and then giggled.
“Did you have Thanksgiving with your daddy?” Coco couldn't resist asking, although she didn't want to pump her for information. She wondered if he was standing there or even knew that she was calling. Chloe had a way of doing what she wanted, without prompting from anyone else.
“Yes,” Chloe said with a sigh. “He brought me a dress from Italy. It's very pretty. He just left for L.A. tonight.”
“Oh.” Coco didn't know what to say.
There was a pause, and then Chloe went on. “He says he misses you very much.”
“I miss him too. Did he tell you to call me?”
“No. I lost your number. I got it off his computer but he doesn't know.” Coco smiled at what she said. It was so like her to do that. “He says you're mad at him, because some very bad men attacked you both and you got hurt. He said you broke your wrist when they pushed you. That must have hurt a lot.”
“It did,” Coco admitted. “It was pretty scary.”
“That's what he said too. He said he should have stopped them, but he couldn't. And now he's very sad, because you're so mad at him. I miss you too, Coco,” she said sadly, and tears filled Coco's eyes again. This was hard. It reminded her of the wonderful time they had shared with her in August.
“I miss you too, Chloe. And I'm very sad too.”
“Please don't stay mad at him,” Chloe said sadly. “I want to see you when I come out. I'm spending Christmas with him in L.A. Will you be there?”
“I'm spending it with my mom and sister in San Francisco. My sister is having a baby pretty soon, so we have to stay here.”
“Maybe we could come up,” she said practically. “If you invite us. We could come to see you at the beach. I'd like that.”
“So would I. But it's kind of complicated right now, because I haven't seen your dad in a while.”
“Maybe he'll call you,” she said hopefully. “He's going to be working on his movie. He's moving back into his house in