Page 128 of Hollywood

“How do you see that going? When you get out, I mean?”

“Well, I’ve got months to go, but hopefully it means I getto sleep in my own bed again. Get to have Ruby with me again.”

I nodded, biting my lip. “And what about me? I don’t want to be relegated to occasional visits.”

“You’re in her life now. You can keep her on weekends. Or we can come up with some other arrangement that works for us both. I want us to be partners in this. Not enemies.”

My heart thumped. “Me too. But um, that got me thinking…”

“About what?”

“Do I give you enough support? I mean, financially. I’ve got so much restitution as part of my parole and as a barber I can’t really provide the way I did before when I worked in the city.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to rely on you like that again. Or anyone, really. You paid for everything, and when you were gone, I really struggled.”

“I could make that up to you,” I said quietly. “I could get a better job and I could give Ruby so much more.”

“Could you? I remember what it was like back then. You worked all the time, Hendrix. You worked ten- or twelve-hour days. Sometimes more. You took business calls at all hours. You flew off to business conferences to schmooze people. I used to wonder if you were cheating on me because you were gone so much.”

I flinched. “God no. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I didn’t really think you would, but you were hardly ever home, and when you were, you weren’t really there. I don’t want that for Ruby.”

I looked at Ruby, who was contentedly trying to braid her mom’s hair while we talked. She was humming something sweet and upbeat, lost in her own little world.

I tried to imagine missing out on these moments.

Missing meals, where she tore into her food like a ravenous beast and never failed to make me laugh. Missing her dances in front of the television. Missing her nighttime bubble baths, her sleepy requests to listen to me sing, her triumph over making it to the potty—not just the potty chair but thebigpotty after we’d got her a little step stool so she could climb up on her own.

Once Carrie was out of rehab, I wouldn’t have Ruby all the time anymore. That would be hard enough. But to live in a different city, to work the long hours required, to put my job ahead of pretty much everything in my life—including my daughter, including Tex?

“I don’t want to do it,” I confessed. “I hate the idea of going back to that. But if I could do more for Ruby, if I could give her a better life?—”

“No, Hendrix.” Carrie patted Ruby’s back. “I’d rather Ruby have a father who’s there for her. One who shows up to her school events and teaches her she can play baseball as good as any of the boys and who meets her dates and makes them understand that no means no. I want Ruby to have adad, not just a father. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I do. That makes it easier.”

“But if you miss that career?—”

“God no. Not at all.”

She grinned. “Good.”

“Besides, Tex is here. I love him.”

“Oh, it’s love now, is it?” she teased.

“Yeah. It is.” I rubbed the back of my hot neck. No matter how much things had changed with Carrie, it was still strange to talk to her about someone new in my life.

“What’s this?” Kelly’s voice rang from the doorway. “DidI hear something about love? I hope you two aren’t reuniting. That’s a terrible idea.”

“No.” Carrie laughed. “Can you even imagine?”

“Ouch,” I said, though I didn’t really mind. I’d never return to that relationship.

Once, I’d been committed to a future with Carrie. But in retrospect, I could see all the ways we weren’t right for each other. Even if my crime hadn’t torn us apart, a dozen other small things would have.

Kelly came in, her youngest kiddo perched on her hip, and the other two trailing behind her.