Paloma had met Mark the previous week, and she had offered to do some laundry for him, when he told her the washing machine in the guest wing was out of order. And the stove still was too. She had told him that he could use the kitchen in the main house if he needed to. She said Coop never came down to the kitchen himself in the morning, and she gave him a key to the connecting door between the main house and the guest wing. The espresso machine in the guest wing was broken too. Mark had made a list of all of it, and the realtor had promised him it would all be repaired, but with Liz gone, there was no one to take care of it, except Coop himself, which wasn't likely to happen, they both knew. Mark was taking his clothes out to be laundered, and Paloma was doing sheets and towels for him, and with the use of Coop's espresso machine on the weekends, he had no other needs. He was using the microwave instead of the stove, and the only time he'd need the stove would be when he had the kids. He was sure it would be fixed by then, even if he had to take care of it himself, and he told the realtor he was willing to. She said she would see what she could do. But Coop never returned any of her calls, or his. And Coop was scheduled to do another commercial that week, for a brand of chewing gum. It was a ridiculous ad, but the pay was decent enough so his agent had talked him into it. He was working more than usual these days, although no features had surfaced yet. His agent had been beating the bushes for him to no avail. His reputation was too well known in Hollywood, and given the kind of parts he wanted to play, romantic leads, leading men, he was simply too old. He wasn't ready to play fathers or grandfathers yet. And there hadn't been any demand for aging playboys in years.
Charlene stayed at The Cottage with him almost every night that week. She was trying to get work as an actress, but she got even less work than Coop. And the only work she had done so far since she'd come to Hollywood were two X-rated videos, one of which had been shown on TV at 4 A.M. And her agent had finally convinced her that neither of them would look good on her C.V. She had already asked Coop if he could talk to anyone about getting work for her, and he'd said he would see what he could do. She had started out as a lingerie model on Seventh Avenue, after similar modeling in Paris, and she had a fabulous body for that, but he wasn't even sure if she could act, and seriously doubted it. She claimed to have modeled in Paris extensively, but she could never seem to find her book. Her real skills were in an area that was far more appealing to Coop, and had nothing to do with acting, modeling, or TV.
He was enjoying her company immensely. And he was relieved when Pamela told him when she got back from Milan that she'd gotten involved with the photographer on the shoot. Those things had a way of working themselves out, particularly in Coop's world. It was all about bodies and temporary alliances and quick affairs. It was only when he went out with famous actresses that he encouraged the rumors about engagements and wedding bells. But he wanted none of that with Charlene. She was all about having a good time, and seeing that he had fun too. He'd already been on two major shopping sprees with her, which had eaten both checks his tenants had given him, but he thought she deserved it, as he explained to Abe when the accountant called and warned him he'd have to sell the house if he didn't behave.
“You'd better give up starving models and actresses, Coop. You need to find a rich wife.” Coop laughed at him and said he'd give it some thought, but marriage had never appealed to Coop. All he wanted to do was play, and that's what he was going to do, or planned to anyway, until his dying day.
The following weekend Mark went to New York to see his kids. He had told Paloma all about them by then. She had done a little cleaning for him, and he'd paid her handsomely. She would have done it for him anyway. She felt sorry for him when he told her his wife had left him for another man, and she started leaving fresh fruit in a bowl on his kitchen table, and some tortillas she'd made. She liked hearing about his kids. It was easy to see he was crazy about them. There were photographs of them all over the place, and others of him and his wife.
But in spite of that, it was a challenging weekend. It was the first time Mark had seen the children since they'd left LA more than a month before. Janet said he should have given them more time to settle in before he came, and she seemed nervous and hostile to him. She was leading a double life, pretending to be unattached when she was with the kids, and continuing her clandestine affair. And Adam wanted to know when he was going to meet her kids. She had promised him it would be soon, but she didn't want them to figure out why she had moved them to New York. She was terrified they'd object to Adam, and start a war with him, out of loyalty to their father, if nothing else. She was looking nervous and strained when Mark saw her, and he wondered what was going wrong. And the kids were unhappy too. But they were thrilled to see their dad.
They stayed at the Plaza with him, and ordered lots of room service. He took them to the theater, and a movie. He went shopping with Jessica, and he and Jason went for a long walk in the rain, trying to make sense of things. And by Sunday afternoon, he felt as though he had only scratched the surface, and hated leaving them again. He was depressed all the way home on the plane. He was really beginning to wonder if he should move to New York. He was still thinking about it the following weekend, as he lay in the sun at the pool on Saturday, and he noticed that someone was moving into the gatehouse finally. He took a stroll over, and saw Jimmy hauling boxes out of a van by himself, and offered to give him a hand.
Jimmy hesitated for a long moment, and then accepted gratefully. He was surprised himself at how much stuff he had. He had sent most of what he had to storage, but had kept a lot of framed photographs, some trophies, his sports equipment, and his clothes. He had a lot of stereo equipment, some of which was Maggie's. There seemed to be a mountain of stuff he had brought with him, and even with Mark helping, it took them two hours to unload the van, and they were both tired when they stopped. All they'd done was introduce themselves to each other at that point, and Jimmy offered him a beer when they finally sat down, and Mark accepted gratefully. It had been a lot of work.
“You sure have a lot of stuff,” Mark said with a grin as he sipped the beer. “Heavy stuff, what's in all that, your collection of bowling balls?” Jimmy smiled and shrugged.
“Damned if I know. We had a two-room apartment and I sent most of it to storage, and I still had all this.” He had a lot of books and papers, and CDs. It seemed endless, but it disappeared easily into the drawers and cupboards and bookcases and closets of the gatehouse. And when he opened the first box, he took out a picture of her and set it on the mantelpiece and stood looking at her. It was one of his favorites. She had just caught a fish in a lake on one of their trips to Ireland, and she looked victorious and pleased, her bright red hair tied in a knot on top of her head, her eyes squinting against the sun. She looked about fourteen years old. It was the summer before she got sick, only about seven months ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago to him, as he turned and saw Mark watching him. Jimmy looked away and didn't say anything.
“Pretty woman. Your girlfriend?” Jimmy shook his head and took a long time to answer, but finally did with a knot in his throat. He was used to it now, it felt like a growth sometimes, the knot that still turned into tears at the drop of a hat, and felt like it always would.
“My wife,” Jimmy said quietly.