“I'd love it.” He noticed the old statue of Quan Yin then, which Ian had given her. “The goddess of compassion,” he said softly as she handed him a mug of tea a few minutes later and sat in the deck chair next to his. “She reminds me of you. You're a kind woman, Coco, and a fine one. I saw the photographs of your man. He looks like a good man,” he said respectfully. Ian was a tall, handsome blond, and the couple looked carefree and happy in the photo. For a moment as he walked by the smiling images, Leslie felt envious of them. He suspected that in his entire life he had never had what they had shared.

“He was a good man.” She looked out to sea and then turned to smile at Leslie. “Everything I want in the world is here. The ocean, the beach, a quiet, peaceful life, this deck where I watch the sun come up every morning, and a fire at night. My dog, books, people I care about in houses nearby. I don't need more than this. It works for me. Maybe one day I'll want something different, but not now.”

“Do you think you'll ever go back, to the 'real' world, I mean? Or perhaps I should say the unreal one, where you used to live?”

“I hope not,” she said firmly. “Why would I? None of that ever made sense to me, even when I was a child,” Coco said as she closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun. Leslie watched her closely. Her hair shone like freshly polished copper, and both dogs had gone to sleep at their feet. It was a life one could get used to, an absence of complication and artifice. But he could imagine that it would get lonely too. It was a life for the most part without people, or strong attachments for her right now. But his was no better. He was hiding from a woman who was trying to kill him. Without question, this made more sense. Leslie loved everything he was seeing here, but he wasn't sure he could live here. Although thirteen years younger than he was, Coco seemed to have found herself long before he did. He was still looking, though closer to knowing what he wanted than he had been in years. At least he knew what he didn't want. Coco had figured that out sooner too.

“I have to admit…” He chuckled softly as Coco opened her eyes and looked at him again. Everything about her was centered, solid, and peaceful. She was like a long drink of pure water from a mountain stream. “I can't see your sister here.” Coco laughed at that too.

“She hates it. Lizzie likes it more than she does, but it's not their thing. They are women of the city. Jane thinks San Francisco is a village. I think they both prefer L.A., but they love their house here, and Lizzie says it's easier to write here than there. There aren't as many distractions.”

Leslie was still smiling. “I remember when I met Jane. I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was in her mid-twenties and she was a knockout. She still is. I had a huge crush on her for about a year, I kept taking her out, and she kept treating me like a buddy. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. I finally lost it completely and kissed her one night after we had dinner, and she looked at me like I was insane and told me she was gay. She said she had done everything she could think of to let me know, including wear men's clothes from time to time when we went out. I just thought she was eccentric and it made her look sexy. I felt like the biggest idiot you can imagine, but we've been great friends ever since. And I really like Liz. They're perfect for each other. Liz softens her somehow. Jane has mellowed a lot over the years.”

“That's a scary thought,” Coco commented. “She's still pretty tough. On me, anyway. As far as she's concerned, I never measure up. And I don't think I ever will.” The secret was to stop trying, but Coco knew better than anyone that she hadn't gotten there yet. She still tried too hard to win her sister's approval, even if she lived in Bolinas.

“She probably wants the best for you, and worries about you,” Leslie said reasonably, as they sipped their mugs of tea. Coco liked sitting next to him, staring out at the ocean, and talking about life.

“Maybe. But not everyone can be like her. I don't even want to try. I'm headed in the opposite direction. Away from all that. My mother doesn't understand it either. I'm just different. I always was.”

“I think that's good,” he said peacefully, relaxing in the deck chair.

“So do I. But it scares most people. They think they have to be the same as everyone else, and accept lives and values that don't fit. Theirs never fit me, even when I was little.”

“I can see that in Chloe, even now,” he said thoughtfully. “She doesn't want to be an actress, like me or her mother. She'd rather drive a truck. I think that's her way of saying she's who she is, and she's not us. You have to respect that.”

“My parents never did. They just ignored it, hoping it would go away. You're way ahead of the game if you already respect who she is at six.” Coco smiled as she thought about it. “My mother wanted us both to be debutantes. Jane had recently come out and was militantly into gay rights. She got off the hook because I think my mother was afraid she'd show up in a tuxedo instead of a dress. She got a lot more pissed off at me eleven years later. I said I'd rather cut my liver out with an ice pick than make my debut. I thought it was wrong and elitist, a throwback to another era where the whole purpose of it was to find a husband. I went to South Africa for Christmas that year instead, and helped build a sewage system in a village. I had a lot more fun than I would have had at the cotillion. My mother had hysterics and wouldn't talk to me for six months. My father was cooler about it. But he wouldn't have been when I dropped out of law school. I guess they each had their dreams for us. Jane doesn't quite fit, but they overlooked it because she's a big success, which was always the gold standard for them. I never bought into that and I never will,” she said, sounding sure of herself in a way that he admired.

“Your family will get used to it eventually,” Leslie said in a quiet tone, but from what she'd said to him so far, he wasn't sure they would. Coco was not someone who wanted to meet another person's expectations if they felt wrong to her. She was totally true to herself and all that she believed, whatever the cost to her. He respected that in her immensely. “I like your watercolor on the easel, by the way. It looks very peaceful.”

“I don't do those much anymore,” she admitted. “I usually give them away as gifts. They're just fun to relax with.” He could sense that she was talented at many things, and enjoyed them all, even if she hadn't yet discovered her final goal. In some ways, he envied her the exploration. He got tired of acting sometimes, and all the craziness that went with it.

They sat for a while in silence, lost in their own thoughts, and finally he dozed off. She took their mugs inside, and packed a few things to take back to the city with her. And when she came back out on the deck, he woke up.

“Does anyone ever swim here?” he asked, feeling lazy and sleepy in the sun.

“Sometimes.” She smiled. “There are shark attacks occasionally, which discourage the faint-hearted, and the water's pretty cold. It's better with a wet suit. I have one about your size if you want.” Ian was about the same height as Leslie, and a little broader and more athletic. She still had his old wet suits in the garage, and his diving gear. She had thought about giving them away, but never did. She liked seeing his things there, it felt less lonely that way, and he seemed less gone, as though he might come back and use them.

“I think the 'occasional shark attacks' just did it for me,” he chuckled. “I'm a devoted and confirmed coward. I had to dive with a shark in a picture once. It was supposedly trained and sedated. I opted to use a stuntman for everything except the love scenes. I was trained and sedated for those myself.” She laughed at what he said.

“I'm not very brave either,” she confessed with a shy look, and he instantly disagreed.

“Are you serious? I think you're extremely brave. About important things. You've flown in the face of tradition with your family, you've bucked the system. In fact, you've walked away, and done it with courage and grace. No matter how much pressure they've put on you, you've done what's right for you, and what you believe. You loved a man and lost him, and you're not lying here whining— you've gone on. You've stayed here. You live alone in a funny little community. You're not afraid to live alone, or be alone. You've created a job that works for you, even if those you love insult you for it. All of that takes courage. It takes a lot of courage, Coco, to be different. And you do it all with dignity and poise. I'm full of admiration for you.” They were lovely things to say, and she appreciated his recognizing who she was, without telling her everything she was doing wrong. Instead he was validating the decisions she had made and the life she had chosen. She smiled warmly at him after what he said.

“Thank you. I admire you too, Leslie. You're not afraid to admit it when you're wrong, or made a mistake. You're amazingly humble given who you are, what you've accomplished, and the world you live in. You could be a real jerk with all of that, and you aren't. You've managed to stay real in spite of it.”

“My family would disown me if I didn't,” he said honestly. “Maybe that's what keeps me true to myself. I have to face them, and myself at some point. It's very nice being a movie star, and having people fall all over themselves to give you what you want. But at the end of the day, you're still only a human being, a good one, or a bad one. It's embarrassing in my business to see people act like fools, and a lot of people do. I don't have a lot of patience with it. And most of the time, when I look at myself, I see all the things I do wrong, not the ones I do right. Maybe in that sense,” he said, looking at her seriously, “being extremely insecure on a long-term basis is a good thing.” They both laughed at what he said. “I'm impressed that you don't seem insecure.”