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“From Henry? Not a chance. He’s my son.”

“Not anymore. Let me try to make this clear to you. You are not the custodial parent. You don’t get to make decisions on Henry’s behalf. You don’t get to sign release forms for photographers or accept their filthy money. You don’t get to exploit your own son. The only thing you were allowed to do was visit him, under supervision, one day a week, and even that you fucked up. You’re a despicable excuse for a father, Richard. You don’t deserve him.”

Ellen pointed down the driveway, noticing as she turned that Caleb was watching from a few feet away. “I want you to leave.”

Richard shook his head as if she were off her rocker. “You can’t tell me to go. This is my mother’s house.”

“If you ever want to see him again, you’ll leave right now, and you’ll stay away until I tell you to come back. If you don’t, I’m taking him home, and Monday morning I’ll file a request to get your visitation rights revoked.”

Richard stared at her slack-jawed. For once, he’d actually listened to her. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Try me.”

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

“Watch your mouth, asshole,” Caleb said, stepping closer.

“I’m being a bitch because nothing else works,” she told Richard. “When I’m nice to you, you walk all over me. You use me, and you use my son.”

“Screw you, Ellen.” Richard’s mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. Caleb closed the last steps between them and clamped one big hand onto Richard’s shoulder. Richard glared at him, twisting out from under his grasp. “Screw both of you.”

He clomped to his car in his motorcycle boots and drove away, leaving in search of a drink or somebody else to make miserable.

Ellen went inside. Henry was using cookie cutters to make stars and hearts with Play-Doh, and Maureen was weeping gently while loading the dishwasher.

She wiped her eyes when she saw Ellen.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know he was going to do that. I went out to the store to buy some diapers—Richard said we were out of diapers—and I guess we were, though I could’ve sworn …” Her face went slack for a moment, heavy and doughy. She looked older than her age. Older than Ellen had ever seen her.

When she spoke again, she sounded like exactly what she was: a mother whose son had broken her heart a hundred times. “And when I got back, that man was here, and Richard said he wanted everyone to see what a beautiful family he had.” She sniffled. Ellen handed her a tissue from the box on the counter. “He said he hoped that you—”

“Don’t,” Ellen said. She didn’t want to hear Richard’s justification. She didn’t really want to leave her son with Maureen right now, either, but what was she supposed to do? She could hardly take him home. There were hundreds of people crowding her cul-de-sac. Strangers getting handcuffed in the driveway. He’d be safer with his grandmother, provided Caleb’s agents stayed on site and Maureen located her good sense.

“You’re not supposed to leave him w

ith Richard.”

“I know. I’ve never done it before. I hope you know that.”

“I thought I did. Just … just don’t let him do it again. Until I tell you different, Richard doesn’t see Henry at all.”

Maureen nodded. “I understand. I—… It’s hard, you know?”

“Sure.” She didn’t know what Maureen meant, but she was willing to agree. Everything was hard.

“I want to be a good grandma to Henry. You know how much I love him. But I try to be a good mother to my son, too.” She gave a shaky sigh. “He doesn’t make it easy to do both.”

“No.”

“He’s not an easy man to love.” It clearly made her sad to say it.

“I know.” Ellen did know. She’d loved him. It was like throwing yourself at a rock. It fucking hurt, and you never got anything back except whatever twisted sense of virtue came from glorifying your own abasement.

Back in Caleb’s car, she looked out the window as they drove by the neat houses of Camelot, each one distinct, tucked into its own wooded patch of property. She wondered if her life would ever be normal again. How much of the last few days’ craziness was temporary, and how much of it was simply new?

Surely it couldn’t go on like this indefinitely, with the press hounding Jamie and Richard hounding her. There wouldn’t always be an SUV parked outside.

She wouldn’t always have Caleb in her bed.

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