Liz also asked him how much he was working. She hadn't seen him in anything lately, not even a commercial. He'd been calling his agent, but nothing seemed to be brewing, for the moment. But as his agent reminded him, he wasn't getting any younger.
“I've been working less than I'd like to, but I've got some irons in the fire. I just talked to three producers this morning.”
“What you need is one big juicy part to get everyone's motors going again. Once they see you in a big part, they'll all want you. You know what sheep producers are, Coop.” She didn't want to say it to him, but he needed a big part playing someone's father. The trouble was Coop still wanted to be the leading man, and no one wanted to hire him for that. But Coop just couldn't see himself as any older, which was why he was so comfortable with Alex. He never even thought about being forty years older than she was. And neither did Alex. She had pondered the issue initially and as she got to know him and fell in love with him, she dismissed it.
They were lying on his terrace talking about nothing in particular that weekend, when her pager went off. She was on call, but when she glanced down at it, she saw that it wasn't the hospital. She instantly recognized the number, and waited half an hour to pick up her cell phone. Coop was stretched out in a deck chair in the shade next to her, reading the paper, and only listening with half an ear to her conversation.
“Yes, that's right. I had a good time. How are you?” He had no idea who she was talking to, but the exchange didn't sound friendly, and she was frowning. “When?…I think I'm working…I can see you for lunch at the hospital, if I'm covered. How long will you be here?… Fine… see you on Tuesday.” He couldn't tell if she was talking to a friend or someone like a lawyer, but whatever it was, she didn't look as though she'd enjoyed it.
“Who was that?” Coop looked puzzled.
“My father. He's coming to LA on Tuesday for meetings. He wants to see me.”
“That should be interesting. Did he say anything about me?”
“Only that he saw that I was at the Oscars. He never mentioned you by name. He'll save that for later.”
“Should we take him to dinner?” Coop offered generously, although it still unnerved him to think that the man was younger than he was, and far more important. Arthur Madison was not only made of money, but of power.
“Nope,” Alex said, glancing at him. She was wearing dark glasses, so he couldn't read her expression, but it was definitely not warm and fuzzy, nor was she enthusiastic about seeing her father. “Thanks anyway. I'll see him for lunch at the hospital. He's flying back after his meeting.” Coop knew he had his own 727.
“Maybe next time,” he said pleasantly. But he could see that she wasn't looking forward to the meeting. And ten minutes later, she got called to the hospital for an emergency.
She didn't come back until dinner. And when she did, she went out to the pool for a swim and ran into Jimmy and Mark and his children. And for the first time since she'd met him, she thought Jimmy looked more cheerful. And the kids were delighted to see her. Jessica told her how beautiful she'd looked at the Oscars.
“Thank you. It was a lot of fun,” Alex said easily after swimming around the pool for half an hour. Jessica was in the pool with her and Mark, and Jason and Jimmy were throwing a baseball. Jimmy was telling him how to correct his throw and Jason was listening intently.
And ten minutes later, Jessica was quizzing Alex about what all the stars had been wearing, when Alex heard a whizzing sound overhead, and Jason threw the ball right through Coop's main living-room window.
“Shit!” Mark said under his breath, as the two women stared and Jimmy gave a whoop of excitement.
“Great throw!” he shouted at Jason before he realized where it had landed. The sound of tinkling glass punctuated his exclamation as Mark and Alex exchanged a look, and Jason looked panicked.
“Uh-oh,” Jessica added, and within instants, Coop was at the pool in barely controlled fury.
“Are we trying out for the Yankees, or just indulging in a little idle vandalism?” He addressed them generally, and Alex was embarrassed for him. There was no doubt about it. He hated mess and disruptions and children.
“It was an accident,” Alex said calmly.
“Why in God's name are you throwing baseballs at my windows?” Coop shouted at Jason. He had seen the catcher's mitt, and it was no mystery who had done it. The boy looked near tears in the face of Coop's outrage, and he was sure he was going to get in big trouble with his father, who had warned him about not rocking the boat by upsetting Mr. Winslow. He had already had one run-in with him with his skateboard.
“I did it, Coop. I'm really sorry.” Jimmy stepped forward. “I should know better.” It broke his heart to see how upset his young friend was, and there wasn't much Coop could do to Jimmy. “I'll replace it.”
“I should hope so. Although I don't believe you. I think it was young Mr. Friedman who did it.” He glanced from Jason to Mark and then back to Jimmy, as Alex got out of the pool and grabbed a towel.
“I'll replace it if you want, Coop,” Alex said generously. “No one meant to do it.”
“This isn't a ballpark,” he said angrily. “Those windows take forever to make, and they're damn near impossible to install.” They were curved and had been blown specially for the house. It was going to cost a fortune to replace it. “Keep your children under control, Friedman,” Coop said unpleasantly and disappeared back into the main house as Alex looked apologetically at the others.
“I'm really sorry,” she said softly. It was a side of him she didn't like to see, but he had warned her often enough that he hated children.
“What an asshole,” Jessica said loudly.
“Jessie!” Mark said sternly, as Jimmy looked at Alex.
“I agree with her, but I'm really sorry. I should have taken him out on the tennis court to throw balls. It never occurred to me he'd throw one through a window.”
“It's okay,” Alex said sympathetically. “He's just not used to kids. He likes everything peaceful and perfect.”
“Life isn't like that,” Jimmy said simply. He dealt with kids every day, and nothing was ever peaceful or perfect or the way you expected, that was what he loved about it. “At least mine isn't.”
“Neither is mine,” Alex said realistically, “but his is. Or he likes to think it is.” They were all thinking of the mess in the tabloids. “Don't worry about it, Jason. It's just a window. Not a person. You can always replace things, not people.” And as she said it, she could have cut her tongue out, as she glanced at Jimmy.
“You're right,” he said softly.
“I'm sorry… I didn't mean that “She was horrified.
“Yes, you did. And you're right. We all forget that sometimes. We get so attached to our stuff, our ‘things.’ It's the people that matter. The rest is all bullshit.”
“I deal with that every day,” she said and he nodded.
“I learned that lesson the hard way,” he said honestly and smiled at her. He liked her. He couldn't understand what she was doing with a man who was all about show and pretense. Everything about her seemed honest and real. “Thanks for being nice to Jason. I'll take care of it.”
“No, I will,” Mark interjected. “He's my son. I'll pay for it. Just be careful next time,” he said to Jason, and then glanced at Jimmy. “And that goes for you too.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Jimmy said, looking apologetic, and they all laughed as Jessica and Jason watched them. Jason figured he had gotten off pretty easy, except for Mr. Winslow yelling at him, but everyone else had been pretty decent. He had expected his dad to kill him when he saw the ball sail through the window. “It was a great throw though, Jason. I'm proud of you.”