You’ve Been Warned

And right then we hear -

“Miss Kristin!”

My eyes go wide, almost as wide as Michael’s. Dakota’s sweet voice is a dagger through both our hearts.

I force a smile, and for the first time ever with this little girl, it isn’t genuine. “Hi, honey,” I say.

Michael turns around. Dakota’s standing by the hedge, wrapped in a red-and-white-striped towel, her blond ringlet curls wet from the pool.

“What are you doing here, Miss Kristin?” she asks.

It’s officially the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, and I still don’t have an acceptable answer. Not for her father, not for her.

Michael looks back at me. I know we’re thinking the exact same thing.

Just how mature for her age is she?

Does she suspect something? Does she even know what it is to suspect?

“Honey, come here,” says Michael.

Dakota shuffles over to him, and he gently puts his arm around her.

“Can you keep a secret?” he whispers.

7

Chapter 41

I’M IN NO CONDITION to drive back to Manhattan or anywhere else. My eyes should be focused on the road, but all I can see is Dakota’s i

We can only hope.

Either way, I’ve got to give Michael some credit. Telling Dakota I was there pla

Wow. Never has so much faith been put in the nodding head of a little girl.

And it’s making me incredibly uneasy. Mostly because I hate lying to Dakota and getting her into the middle of this mess. She’s just a little kid.

With Co

Now what?

It may be a beautiful day, but I don’t feel like being outside anymore. Nor do I want to go back to my apartment. So I hop a cab downtown to the Angelika Film Center, where there’s a director’s cut playing of Flirting with Disaster. How appropriate.

All I want is light and fu

After the movie I try to do some clothes shopping in SoHo, where most of my favorite stores are. But as I flip through the racks at Je

Even if Dakota hadn’t spotted us, I really goofed. Michael had every right to be angry. Well, maybe notthat angry?

What was I thinking?

For about the tenth time, I reach for my cell phone to call him. I want to apologize again.

And for about the tenth time, I put the phone away without dialing. Don’t push it, I warn myself. I know how he is. If I let him be for a day or two, he’ll be fine.

We’ll be fine.

Chapter 42

WITH THE AFTERNOON sun waning, I stop on the corner of Prince Street and Greene, waiting for the “Walk” sign. I gaze around. A little paranoid. Not too bad, though. It’s all relative.

If there’s a better place to people watch than the heart of SoHo, I’d sure like to know about it. Maybe Paris? Maybe not. Society types, punkers, artists, a few cross-dressers, you name it, they’re all out here sharing the sidewalk.

Including the nutcase on the corner directly across the street from me.

He’s an old man wearing sunglasses and a long gray beard practically down to his belt. He’s pacing back and forth, carrying a sign like in the classic cartoons. Only instead of “The End Is Near,” his reads, “The End Is Just the Begi

Yeah, I get it -I’ve been warned.

As I cross the street and pass him, I can’t help shaking my head. How does a person become so disco

“Be afraid, Kristin.”

Huh?

I stop dead in my tracks, turning back toward the man. “How do you know my name?”

“I just know it.”

I take a few steps closer. I’m about a foot from his face. He’s definitely there. He’s real. “I said, How do you know my name? ”

“It’s not too late, Kristin,” he says. His voice is raspy, raw, a little scary on its own.

He tries to turn away, and I grab his shoulder. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

Silence from him now. What – have I offended Mr. ZZ Top?

“Tell me!” I insist.

He smiles, flashing a mouth of the most rotted, brown teeth I’ve ever seen. But I don’t back away.

“Do I know you?” I ask.

Reaching up, he removes his sunglasses, and I gasp. Now I back up a step. One of his eyes is missing. There’s nothing there but a dark hole that seems to disappear into his head. Is that possible? I almost expect worms or slimy white maggots to crawl out.

“Not yet,” he answers. “But soon you will. When you figure out your life.”

He puts his shades back on, nods, and then turns away.

Chapter 43

I’M TREMBLING AS the bearded, one-eyed joker walks off down the street. It’s officially a toss-up now. Where is it more surreal? Inside my apartment or out here?

Hailing a cab, I decide being in my apartment might not be so bad anymore. Perhaps a nice, quiet evening at home will help calm the nerves. Then maybe I can figure this out, though I seriously doubt it.

In fifteen minutes, I’m there.

I begin with a superhot bath, the kind you need to ease your body into an inch at a time. I even add some herbal salts that Co

After lingering in the tub until I’m “Wrinkled Prune,” I towel off, climb into my comfy terry cloth robe, and force myself to dial up some Chinese – sesame chicken and vegetable fried rice, my standard order. No MSG, please. I am trying my very best to have a normal night at home, which is ridiculous, I know, but it’s the only idea I have at the moment.

On a full stomach, after the day I’ve had, I should be dead tired. Instead, I’m wide-awake. Restless. Wired.

I try not to think of the one-eyed man on the corner -How did he know my name? – but if it’s not his face I’m seeing in my mind, it’s another’s. Dakota’s.

“Miss Kristin?”

Her sweet voice echoing in my ears, I remember that I’ve got an entire roll of her and Sean in my camera, the two of them swimming and playing by the pool.

At last, something that might put me at ease.

My darkroom.

I literally roll up the sleeves of my robe and get busy. Almost immediately, I can feel my mind and body relaxing. I even crack a smile as I think of a great name for an exhibit. “Stakeout.” It would be strictly pictures I’ve taken while parked somewhere, hiding.

No, wait, I’ve got an even better name. “Bob and Me.”

This is more like it. Moving the negatives to the holding bath, I catch a glimpse of the first few shots from the roll.

“Oh, how cute!”

I actually say the words out loud. My two favorite kids in the world, splashing around and having so much fun. Even in the negative I can see their beautiful smiles.

It’s a little weird, though. I always make a point of showing Dakota and Sean every picture I take of them. But these they’ll never see.

Eventually, I get to the shot I snapped with Penley in it. So typical, her pointing and barking orders at the kids. She looks more like a warden than a mom.