Dirty Blonde

“I’ll say nothing, of course. So if you still want to do it, then we’ll do it, and again, I’m honored that you called me, Judge. Above all, don’t worry. All of us have something we’d rather not broadcast. Suing over it may not be the best course.”

“Thanks.” Cate pressed END and hit the gas again.

CHAPTER 26

It was dark by the time Cate reached the development, and she drove around Gina’s block a few times, just to make sure Russo wasn’t following her. The town houses, all painted light blue, stood three stories tall and were unusually narrow, stretching from the ground like fingers from a hand. Each town house had a short driveway and a uniformly fake colonial light beside every front door, illuminating a Ford, Dodge, or Honda minivan.

She took a right turn onto Meadowbrook and drove down the street, satisfied she wasn’t being followed. Russo wouldn’t have to trail her to find her here anyway; the record he’d stolen would show that she’d spent every Monday and Thursday here since the surveillance had begun. Still she scanned the parked cars as she drove past, out of an abundance of caution, and she didn’t see anything amiss. She had hesitated about coming here tonight, but she knew Gina needed the break and wanted to talk to her anyway.

Cate turned the car into Gina’s driveway, parked behind her Pathfinder, then cut the ignition, grabbed her purse and the bag of Chinese takeout. She hoped that between her car and the front door, she would think of a way to tell her best friend in the world that she and her beloved son were about to be fictionalized and beamed into three million homes every Sunday night.

They sat in the warm, cozy kitchen across from each other, two old girlfriends nursing fresh-brewed hazelnut coffee in tall glass mugs. White containers of chicken curry sat open on the tiny table, along with empty plastic tubs of egg drop soup and a bright red foil bag covered with a snaky dragon, which held leftover spare ribs. Warren sat quietly in his high chair, ignoring his cooling pasta and tapping his felt-rimmed mirror on his plastic tray, but his mood was calm enough to permit Cate to tell Gina the whole story, uninterrupted and chronologically, from the break-in of her house to the dismal prospects for the restraining order.

“I am so sorry,” Cate said, after she had finally finished. She eyed her friend for a reaction. Gina sat slumped in the chair, almost sinking into her oversized sweatshirt, a soft old white one that read FT. LAUDERDALE above an embroidered pink-and-yellow sailboat. Her large, round eyes looked a weary brown, their eyeliner smudged off, but her lips curved into her characteristic smile, which made Cate feel even worse. “Gina, I feel awful about this.”

“You shouldn’t. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was.”

“You didn’t know they were following you.” Gina’s voice was soft.

“If I didn’t run around at night, they wouldn’t have followed me in the first place. I would have been just another judge on the court, too boring to write about.”

“No, they liked you from the pretrial conference, remember? You’re hot, you’re sexy, you’re camera- ready.”

“But I gave them something juicy when they started digging. And now you’re caught up in it, and the baby.” Cate felt her throat thicken, but she didn’t want to cry. “I would be furious if I were you.”

“No, never. Not at you.” Gina managed another smile, but Cate could see wetness come to her eyes, a sad sheen.

“I’m so sorry. You can yell at me, go ahead.”

“No. I admit, I’m not thrilled about it, but I’m not mad at you.” Gina bit her lower lip. “I mean, what’ll they do to me? My character, I mean. Will they make me do dumb things? Or make me look like a bad mother?” Gina’s voice went hoarse, and Cate almost cried.

“Nobody could make you a bad mother. You’re absolutely devoted to Warren, and everybody knows that. You changed your whole life to be with him. You’re a great mother.”

“Not always.” Gina tucked a strand of dark bangs into her paintbrush ponytail. “It’s hard sometimes. I hear moms staying home with normal kids, and I think, they have no idea how easy they have it. It’s a long day with him, a really long day.”

“I know, and that’s why they can’t make you look bad. Besides, you have to remember, it’s not you. People will know that. We’ll tell people that. Your friends, his teachers, everybody.”

“What if they make me into some sort of saint, because the baby has autism? I’d hate that, too. That’s just another way of putting him down.” Gina checked on Warren, her gaze shifting to the high chair and back again. “Because he’s not so hard, really, and you know, I mean, I love him. And he’s a gift, a gift. I know that now. You know that, too, Cate.”

“Of course, I do, I know that-”

“I just don’t want them to make the baby look bad.” Gina kept biting her lip. “I’d hate it if they, you know, made him look really…severe. Because he’s not.”

“Gina-”

“I mean, I know that it’s politically incorrect to say, but he isn’t so bad and he never arm-flaps and I think he’d be one of the higher functioning kids next year…” Gina’s sentence trailed off. “It’s just that he already gets teased so much, you know. I don’t want it to get worse.”

Cate understood. Retard. Tard. Dummy. Stupid. She’d witnessed it.

“Like today, we went to the pool at the Y and there was another kid, about four, and he wanted to play with him, and he kept yelling at him, but Warren wouldn’t look at him, and the kid yelled, ‘What are you, deaf?’” Gina tossed her head, as if to shake it off. “I remember when that was his diagnosis, don’t you? When I hoped that he was deaf. That would have been easy.”

“Yes.” Cate reached across the table and covered her friend’s hand, the physical connection making palpable the pain. “I am so very sorry.”

“Did you ever think that this was meant to happen?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“But maybe it was. Like Dr. Phil says.”

“Gina, now with the Dr. Phil?” Cate managed a weak smile.

“But it’s true. You had a secret. You were running around, and nobody knew it, not even me. Now it’s about to come out.” Gina shifted forward. “The running around isn’t the secret, Cate. It’s just the behavior. What’s your secret?”

“I don’t know, it’s a secret.” Cate chuckled, but Gina didn’t.

“Think about it. Maybe you’re supposed to figure it out, maybe this is how. Everybody has a secret.”

“You don’t.”

“I do, too.”

“What?” Cate shot back, and the kitchen grew so quiet she thought Gina had stopped breathing. “You never told me any secret.”

“I know.” Gina swallowed visibly. “It’s not the kind of secret you ever tell.”

“What?” Cate asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Sometimes, when I got stressed out, before he was diagnosed, I hit the baby.”

Cate blinked, shocked.

“I did that. Not often, but sometimes. I hit his butt. I don’t know if he felt it through the diaper-” Gina stopped her sentence, then sat straighter. “That’s a lie, I know he did. He felt it, because he cried.” Gina’s dark eyes filled. “But that wasn’t even the secret I figured out.”

Cate officially didn’t want to know the secret.

“The secret was that I wished he had never been born.”

Cate’s eyes widened. She felt it herself. Her eyes literally opened.

“See? I taught myself that. I used to dream about that, if he had never been born. That was my dream. I would still be married to Mike, I’d still be a successful lawyer. I’d have nice clothes and a place to wear them. I’d have a normal kid and he’d play lacrosse and go to Harvard, which would bankrupt me, and I