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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alarge black Escaladedrove up to Taylor’s house the next day. Roberta peered out the window, curious to see who was in it. Two women got out of the backseat, assisted by Alex. Mrs. Reyd, she recognized. The other woman was much younger, the same woman who had been at the hospital the prior evening. Roberta searched Taylor’s page on the IMDb website looking for that familiar face. There were a couple of red-carpet premier event photographs of him with the woman in which she was identified. It was Melissa Cahill, Taylor’s former girlfriend. Roberta grimaced, pressing her lips tight.Why was she here? Taylor had said they were no longer together. Had he been telling the truth?
The window upstairs in her office afforded a perfect view of next door. She spied on the two women entering the house, the chauffeur having unlocked the door. He carried in four large suitcases. Half an hour later, he followed the women back out to the Escalade. They all got back into the vehicle and drove off. It looked like Mom and Melissa were here to stay. What would their presence and the accident's timing do to her and Taylor?
Returning to her writing, Roberta was still there an hour later when they returned with a dozen or more bags of groceries.Stocking up the larder for a long visit.She chuckled, thinking of how bare Taylor’s cupboards must have been. He had been over to her house for dinner almost every night. Beyond granola bars he grabbed in the morning and some juice and protein drinks, he didn’t keep much food in his own house. On set, the crafty, slang for the on-location catering service, usually provided a full breakfast and a full lunch menu. They were also open throughout the day for beverages and snacks. He’d told her that his beautifully appointed and fully stocked trailer was close by to relax in between takes.
He hadn’t mentioned they were coming for a visit, but there wasn’t a reason for him to tell her. Was it a surprise? Or did they just arrive because of his accident? They had made excellent time if they came all the way from LA as soon as they heard of his mishap. And now it looked like he’d invited them to stay.
The following morning, Roberta stayed close to the window, checking to see if Taylor had returned from the hospital yet. As the day progressed, her anxiety rose. A dozen times, she considered calling him, picking up her phone, her finger poised over the keypad. But if he wasn’t home yet, there must be a reason. Good or bad. By half-past five, she was starting to worry outright, bargaining with herself that she could call him if he didn’t show up by six.
An SUV pulled into the driveway just before six o’clock. Not waiting for the vehicle to stop, he hopped out, not wearing a sling but clearly favoring one arm. Roberta saw him glance over at her house. His feet started in her direction until a woman called his name. Taylor stopped and turned back toward his house. His mom stood on the front stoop waving and started down the concrete steps to meet him. Taylor glanced over at Roberta’s house, shook his head once, then redirected his feet to meet his mother. A genuine smile broke out on his face before he enfolded her in his good arm for a hug and kissed her cheek. They exchanged words, his mother pointing back to the front door. His face darkened with a scowl.
Dressed in a pink, fifties style dress, complete with a wide puffy skirt that accentuated her tiny waist, prominent, rounded bosom, and hour-glass silhouette, stood Melissa. Even her hair was done up into a fifties style coiffure. She looked like she just came out of the filmGrease. Roberta shook her head, wondering why the costume.
Mrs. Reyd smiled and gestured like Vanna White revealing the best surprise. Taylor let go of his mother and stepped back. He turned on his heel and walked a few quick steps with his one good hand buried deep in his hair. His mother followed him, looking concerned and worried. The office window did not open, and Roberta could not hear what was happening. She watched Taylor suddenly swing back around and speak curtly to his mother. She jolted at whatever he said, then froze, looking between her son and Melissa. The young woman on the stoop wrung her hands together, biting her lip. She looked like she was trying hard not to cry.
Mrs. Reyd put a hand on her son’s good arm, saying something. He nodded, his shoulders slumping. He shook her off, his free hand rising to rub his hurt shoulder. Mother and son turned toward the house. Mrs. Reyd called to the young woman, who fled inside before they followed.
Roberta had no idea what she just saw, but the message was pretty clear. Taylor was not happy to see Melissa. Mrs. Reyd had thought it was going to be a pleasant surprise. It appeared to have backfired. Roberta had never seen Taylor so upset. She wished to be a fly on the wall inside that house so she could find out what was going on.
