changed her tactics over the years, she’s never learned how to hide her feelings. And when I picked her up from the airport last week, she had that same dreamy look in her eye as she did when the two of you arrived in my home to tell me about some nonsensical plan to run off to Prague.”
A dreamy look in her eye? This is definitely not that conversation I thought we would be having. But Claire’s not finished.
“Tell me this, Christopher. Why did you come looking for my daughter? Why did you have to pick that particular screenplay? Is there a reason that you couldn’t leave well enough alone?”
I check her face to see if it’s a trick question, if she wants me to say that it was all part of a grand plan. Her watchful eyes stay steady on mine.
“I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear. I want you to tell me the truth.”
Even if Claire Caldwell scares the living shit out of me, I have nothing left. I have to lay my cards out on the table.
“I didn’t know that it was Hallie’s movie. Ben’s movie. I read the script, and something about it made me desperate to have it. I guess I should have known that it was hers. Theirs. Whatever. I read it again, a dozen times, over the last week, and I think I figured out why I needed it so badly. The words, they sound like her. The whole thing, it feels like Hallie’s. I know that must sound silly, but it’s true. And I needed it.”
Claire looks puzzled. “You knew nothing about what happened? Ben’s accident? The book? I find that extremely hard to believe.”
“I didn’t know the movie was hers. I didn’t know that she and Ben had gotten married. And I didn’t know that Ben had…”
She nods. “That explains it, then. I didn’t believe that trash they printed, but I had to see for myself.”
“Claire, if I had known…”
“That’s neither here nor there. You can’t do anything about the past but dwell in it. Believe me. I know.”
There’s regret there, and understanding. She lays her hand on top of mine and I stare up at her.
“What are we doing here, Claire?”
“I needed some new material for my James Ross fanfiction.”
It’s an impressively deadpan delivery, so much so that I don’t even dare to laugh.
“You would at least thought my daughter would have had the sense to pick a man with a sense of humor. You can’t have it all, I suppose.”
“You know, there really is some decent fanfiction out there. You wouldn’t happen to be larvae1961, would you?”
“You got me. I’ll admit it. I do love that movie.”
“Your daughter had a lot to do with that. The director of that movie, Hallie’s biggest fan, by the way, stopped speaking to me the second she left.”
It’s true. Alan would have had me blacklisted, if that were still possible. He handed off James Ross to some music video director who had ruined the franchise. All because he was angry with me.
“Do you love my daughter, Christopher?”
I don’t hesitate.
“I told you this seven years ago, and there hasn’t been a time since that it wasn’t true—I love your daughter to the ends of the earth and back, Claire. I love her so much that I couldn’t bear the thought of trying to apologize to her when I was anything less than my best self. I love her so much that when she told me that she didn’t love me, I crawled into a hole and stayed there for almost a year. I love her so much that she’s the first and the last thing that I think about every day. I would do anything for her. I would even stay away from her. I’m hoping you’re not going to tell me to do that, but I would do it. You know her best. You tell me what to do. You tell me, because I just don’t know anymore.”
Claire tilts her head to the other side, smiles at me, and then bends her head down to write something on a napkin.
“She left about an hour ago. She’s on her way to her house in Lake Geneva. The address is there; it’s just off Alla Vista Drive, but you’ll probably find her in the neighborhood park if you plan on leaving now. My granddaughter is even more persuasive than her mother was at that age, and I suspect