Let Me Count The Ways (25 page)

“I still don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I reminded her.

Claire nodded. “I know. That’s the whole problem.”

She looked unhappy and I wanted to help. But we were sitting in the burned out wreckage of my home, I still didn’t know for certain that Zoe was going to be okay, and this talking in circles was getting us nowhere. My patience was worn thin. “So tell me.”

“I can’t. Not now. Maybe... maybe some other time.”

“Damn it, Claire! What the hell’s going on?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Just forget I said anything. It was a mistake.”

“Another mistake? Terrific. Does that mean I can forget about what you said Saturday too?”

“Mike...”

“Because you said
that
was a mistake as well.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t get it Claire--any of it. Why are you doing this?”

“Because!” Getting up, she began to pace around on the damp carpet. “Do you think this is easy for me? What if I tell you the worst thing I know about myself and you decide it’s something you can’t handle? What if it changes the way you feel about me, the way you look at me--what happens then?”

“I don’t know. Try me and see.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” I set Zoe down on the bed where she could help herself to the rest of the grapes. She complained a little about that, but I ignored her. I stood, intending to go to Claire, to take her in my arms and tell her that the only thing I couldn’t handle was the idea of losing her. That nothing could change the way I felt. But before I’d taken more than a step in her direction, she shrank away from me. She crossed her arms defensively and, with that one move, derailed all my good intentions. I glared at her. “What the hell’d you do, Claire? Kill a man in Reno? Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as you think it is.”

She glared back at me for a moment before her face changed. She looked away, biting her lip, almost smiling. “Well, when you put it that way...”

“I have a lot to lose too, you know.”

She shook her head, looking sad again. “Not really. What do you have to lose besides your fantasy idea of who I am?”

Plenty
, I wanted to tell her. Should have told her. Didn’t. “Don’t knock fantasies, Claire. You’re a fantasy for a lot of guys besides me, you know, and I doubt any of them would mind trading that in for a little reality.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Her lips twisted bitterly. “Like I said, Mike, I’ve been through this before. More times than you might imagine. Men always say they want reality, they rarely ever mean it. And even then...”

“Try me,” I suggested again, stepping closer, taking hold of her arms, trying hard to ignore the anger I felt at being lumped in the category of
Men Who Say Things They Don’t Mean.
Trying even harder to ignore the helpless, pleading look in her eyes, as well as the insidious voice in my head that clamored,
shut up and kiss her
.

“Who are these other men, anyway? It doesn’t sound like it could be that much of a secret if you’ve had this conversation so many times.”

She sighed. “No one. They’re no one. That’s not what’s important. And I never said it was a secret.”

“Well, if it’s not a secret, then what’s the big deal? Tell me and get it over with.”

“Oh, Mike.” Reaching up, she framed my face with her hand and smiled wistfully. “What am I going to do about you?”

“Tell me what’s bothering you? I know you don’t think I can fix it, but why not let me try?”

She studied my face for a long time until my nerves, already stretched taut by exhaustion and stress, were on the verge of snapping. Finally she nodded. “All right, you win. I guess it’s only a matter of time before you find out anyway. I just hope...” Taking a deep breath she said, “There were these movies I made, back when I was first getting started in acting, that were... well, they weren’t the kind of film you’d really want on your resume. They weren’t... good. In fact, they weren’t ever intended to be good. There was never any ‘redeeming social value’ to them, if you know what I mean?”

She paused. I nodded. “Okay,” I said with what I hoped was a sympathetic and encouraging expression. “Go on.”

“See, the thing is, I didn’t always use the best judgment in picking projects. And when I was young and naïve, people told me I had to do certain things to advance my career and I believed them. I know it was stupid, Mike, but you hear so much about ‘paying your dues’ in this industry and I thought this was part of it. And that’s really why I did them. A lot of people haven’t believed me when I’ve said that. They thought I must have done it for the money. I didn’t. Although, it
was
nice, for a change, not having to choose between paying the rent and eating. And I didn’t get off on doing them either... well, I mean, I
did
, but that wasn’t why.”

Again she paused, looking pained, uncertain, worried. Again I nodded. “Okay.”

“There ended up being quite a few of them, actually, and they were pretty edgy for the time--what I believe they call ‘gonzo’ nowadays.”

I nodded again, trying to curb my impatience. I supposed there was a reason she was giving me all this background information, but I still had no idea where she was going with it. “Okay,” I prompted once again, hoping to speed things up.

She frowned. “Okay? Is that all you’re going to say? Aren’t you the least bit shocked?”

“By what? You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know, have you? You’re an actress. You’ve made a lot of movies. Some of them were better than others. I’m still waiting for you to get to the point.”

“That
is
the point,” she answered coldly. “I made adult movies. You know--porn?”

I nodded. “Yes, I know.” Then it hit me. “Wait. That’s it?” I stared at her in disbelief. “
That’s
your big issue? The thing I couldn’t handle, the thing that’s supposed to change the way I feel about you?” The back-draft of emotion left me speechless for half a second, then everything inside me detonated. “Are you fucking crazy? Do you know the kind of hell you put me through these last few days? You broke up with me. I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought I’d done something horrible. Not to mention all that ‘I just want you for a friend’ bullshit--Do you know how lousy that made me feel? And it was all because of
this
?”

She’d wrenched herself away from me when I started yelling. Now, she stared at me warily, not saying a word, looking poised to run. But I no longer cared.

Catching my breath again, I continued my rant. “God damn it, Claire! I’ve been losing sleep for weeks, trying to figure out what the hell I was doing wrong. Wondering why you kept coming on to me, then running away again. And this place...” I swept my arms out, encompassing the room, the house, the canyon. “Look at it! Don’t you think if I’d been here, if I hadn’t been going crazy looking for you, I could have maybe saved some of it? I could at least have taken Zoe to safety. I wouldn’t have spent two days imagining the worst, seeing her go up in flames every time I closed my eyes!”

At that, Claire’s eyes blazed. “So that’s my fault now, too? I know I said I made mistakes, Mike, but I don’t think you can blame the entire fucking wildfire on me! And don’t you dare yell at me like that.” She stamped her foot in fury. “A few days? A few weeks? Try spending years in hell, then come talk to me about your problems. At least three of my marriages fell apart over this ‘issue’, Mike, so yeah, I do happen to think it’s a big deal. Oh, and, just for the record? I lost houses too, you know. Several times over. I spent a fortune over the years--lawyers, divorce settlements, squelching tabloid stories, paying off photographers, all kinds of crap--fucking blackmail, most of it. And all because of my past. So you have no right to judge me, Mike. None.”

“I’m
not
judging you, damn it! That’s my whole point. Don’t you know me at all? I’d
never
do something like that. I can’t believe you’d think so poorly of me.”

She shook her head. “Please. Do you know how many friends I’ve had stab me in the back over the years? You’re a sweet man, Mike, but I’m afraid the jury’s still out on you. You’re not the first person to say it doesn’t matter. People always think it won’t change the way they feel. But, most of the time, it really does.”

She met my eyes, looking tragic, haunted, hurt. Looking resigned. “Now that you know, you’ll probably want to see them--out of morbid curiosity, if nothing else. Maybe you’ll tell yourself you’re doing it just to
prove
that you’re fine with it, that it doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t change everything. I’m sure you’ll be able to dig up a few stray copies. After you’ve seen them, then you come talk to me about your feelings, Mike. Tell me then how they haven’t changed. How I still seem so perfect, so pure, so... or you know what? Better yet, don’t tell me. Because I’ve been there before and I don’t think I can bear to go through it again. I really don’t.”

We stared at each other in silence. My brain felt charred, burned out, useless. I could no longer tell if I wanted to hold her close and reassure her--or curse at her for her lack of faith. Just like I couldn’t guess how she’d react to what I was about to do. Would she feel redeemed? Relieved? Would she recognize that she’d been mistaken? Or would she simply view it as yet another reason to reject me? She wasn’t the only one with secrets.

I crossed to the cabinet where I kept my movies and other memorabilia. I unlatched the door, pulled a few cassettes and a couple of DVDs from the shelves, more or less at random, then returned to where she was standing.

“Here,” I said as I thrust them into her hands. “Now, you wanna tell me again how something I’ve known about since before we even met is gonna change the way I feel about you?”

She blinked rapidly, heat flooded her cheeks. “You--you’ve seen these?”

I nodded and jerked my thumb in the direction of the cabinet. “I’ve seen everything. Go check it out if you don’t believe me. And you’re right, by the way, some of them
aren’t
very good. But
you
were always wonderful.”

She closed her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” she asked faintly.

“Sooner? I did tell you! I told you weeks ago.”

Her eyes opened again. She frowned at me. “When? I don’t remember you saying anything about...”

“At the gallery opening. You said you’d made some films out here. I told you then that I’d seen them.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Still looking perplexed she asked, “How could you know where they were made?”

I shrugged. “I recognized some of the locations.”

“You... what?”

“I’ve lived out here awhile, you know.”

Speculation crept into her gaze. “I don’t even know how that’s possible. You must have looked at them an
awful
lot to be able to pick out locations.”

Which was just what I wanted to talk about. Not. Grabbing the movies from her hands, I stuffed them back into the cabinet. “You know what? I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got...
issues
of my own.” I indicated the room around us even though I knew the real issues had nothing to do with the fire, and everything to do with her. With her reaction to my own confession. “Why don’t you go home now, Claire? Or go to work--I’m sure I’ve kept you away long enough already. And I really think I need to be alone for a while.”

The startled look on her face ever since I opened the cabinet, the fear in her eyes, the suspicion in her voice--
you must have looked at them a lot--
had put me in the mood to break a few more windows. Alone would be a good thing. As I re-closed the cabinet I noticed that my hands had started to shake. Alone would be a
very
good thing.

“You’re sending me away?” The tremor in Claire’s voice nearly put me over the edge.

“Hell, no,” I told her as I picked Zoe up and headed for the kitchen, where I kept my address and phone book. “Why in hell would I have to do that?”

Vet. Insurance agent. Bank. Office--
maybe focusing my attention on the list of calls I had to make could help calm me?

“Mike?”

“Your car’s here, isn’t it? And you’ve shown yourself more than capable of leaving. So just go.”

“But what about you?” Claire asked, splashing after me. “Are you ready to leave too? Do you want a ride back to your car?”

I shook my head. “No, thanks. I can walk.”

“Walk?” The softness faded from her voice. She stopped walking and glared at me. “What are you talking about? Why the hell would you want to walk?”

“Why not? It’s exercise, isn’t it?”

“It’s stupid, is what it is!!

“Thank you. Nice to know your high opinion of me extends to my intelligence now, too.” I pulled a chair away from the table. I had to put Zoe down quickly before I dropped her. As it was, my movements were so hasty she had to flap her wings to re-gain her balance. She squawked hoarsely in protest.

“Careful!” Claire warned. “She...”

I turned to scowl at her and she shut up. Abruptly. Too abruptly. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before I lost it entirely--maybe less. She had to go. “So fine. You know what? Maybe I won’t walk. Maybe I’ll call a cab instead. Is there a particular reason you’d want to hang around and wait while I do that?”

Claire gasped. Any other time the hurt in her eyes would have cut me to the core. Right now, I felt only a moderate increase in the regret that had already nearly crippled me. I sighed wearily. “You know, you asked me once if I’d regret it if I turned down your offer to sleep with you. I didn’t have an answer then, but I do now. I think my biggest regret is that I
didn’t
turn you down that night. Maybe, if I’d handled things better from the start, if we’d gone about this a little differently, maybe things wouldn’t be in such a mess right now.” Maybe. Not that we’d ever know for sure.

Without another word, Claire crossed to the back door. She pushed it open and then paused. Tears had filled her eyes when she turned to face me once more. “I just want you to know... I think I could have loved you.”