American Babe (14 page)

At some point one to four hours later, Knox and I, in our full electric, striped, tropical, twisty, monkey-printed Prada looks with bold feather boas, found ourselves in the back of Bar Marmont (they let me in with a minor because I'm me).

“No,
Superman Returns
was your best work. I swear to God! You were my favorite Lex Luthor in history. I almost want to tell you you could fuck me tonight, even though I know you wouldn't 'cause my dick's not big enough for you!”

Yep. That's right. I shouted that at Kevin Spacey.

Then my attention was drawn to my phone. It was a
missed call from Scott. Maryland Scott? OMG yes—the only other Scott I had in my phone was Scott Weiland, and I knew it couldn't have been him. Shit. This person had called me three times. It must've been morning in Maryland because it was already 3:30 in LA.

“Where's Knox?” I remember saying to Kevin. He'd just walked away at some point.

I decided in that moment that calling Scott would stress me out but was ultimately the right thing to do because he might be able to help me find Knox.

So I found a seat on some wet grass outside, lit a Marlboro Light, and called him back.

“H
ello? Babe?” Scott said through the phone. He sounded not drunk. Isn't it hilarious how, when you're wasted, you are hyperaware of how drunk or not drunk everyone else seems?

“Hello. You've reached Babe Walker's phone.”

I sounded drunk.

“I know whose phone it is. I just called it. And you called me back.”

“Scott?”

“Yeah, Babe.”

“Oh my God, hey! What's up? It's Babe.”

I wanted to sound as put together as possible.

“Jesus. Hey. Are you okay? It's super late there.”

“I'm totally fine. Knox is fine. We're gonna be fine. We're out here making it in LA, okay?”

“Well, Veronica has been—”

“You can just relax. Tell Vee she needs to chill out. I've got this.”

“You've got this?”

“Yas, queen. I've got this. Knox is gonna do great. I'm making his dreams come true.”

“All right, well, his mom has been basically hysterical trying to figure out where you took him and what's going on out there. I know that Knox seems mature for his age and I think it's great that he's found someone that he looks up to, but you—”

“I bought him the CUTEST shit. You'll just die, Scott. I know you'll especially die for the Y-3 stuff we picked up at Barneys today because it's so sporty and you're sporty 'cause you're, like, a PE teacher or something, right?”

“I teach English but I also coach,” Scott said flatly.

“Right, that's what I said. You're a coach. Not a teacher.”

“Yeah, uh . . . no . . . but okay.”

“Hey, Scott?”

“Babe. Can you tell me what you guys are doing right now? Where are you?”

“I think that's fucking hot. That you're a coach.”

“Are you out at a bar?”

“Of course I'm at a fucking bar,” I said, waving good-bye to Alexa Chung, who looked very thin and very amazing. She mouthed, “Call me” and was out of sight. Moments later, I could see a flurry of paparazzi flashes over the ivy-covered wall.

“Babe? You still there?” Scott demanded.

“I'm here, I'm here,” I assured him, lighting another cigarette. “You really called me at, like, the worst time ever. I've been received by LA with such warmth tonight, after nearly a week away, so a lot of people are trying to talk to me and fuck me and be my friend. I should go. Big night for me.”

“Where is Knox?!”

“He's right beer.”

“Right
beer
? What?”

“HERE. He's right here. I'm looking at him,” I lied.

“Okay. Good. That's good. We're super worried over here.”

“There's nothing to worry about. I swear.”

“Can I suggest something?” Scott asked.

“Can I not listen?”

“Sure. But for Knox's sake, I really think you should.”

“Okay, fine.”

That hit me hard. I was drunk, yes, but I could hear a true sense of worry in Scott's voice. He was afraid I might put Knoxers in a dangerous situation, which is NOT cute. The fact that I didn't know where Knox was started to really settle in. I was basically positive that he was still with Roman and my friends inside, in a corner, but the truth was, I had no idea.

“Can you find somewhere quieter to talk to me?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, give me literally one minute. I'll go inside.”

“Okay, bring Knox with you. Don't leave him alone.”

“Obviously. Come on, Knoxie,” I said to no one.

The place was almost empty by this point in the night but the usual hangers-on were stomping about, eyes wide, swigging gin and tonics and looking for an after-hours party at the closest house with a gate. Gates make famous people feel okay with their drug habits. I was looking for Knox but also for a quiet corner where I could talk to Scott.

“Have you seen my short friend?” I asked the youngest Jenner girl—I can never remember her name—as she passed me, putting my hand over the phone so that Scott wouldn't hear me asking where Knox was. I figured she was also a child, so maybe she'd been hanging out with Knox or at least knew where I could find him.

“You mean that little boy you came in with?” the Jenner said.

“Yes! You know where he is?”

“No. He's super cute, though. He was showing us how to make origami before.”

“Oh, cute! I mean, how cute is he?!”

“So cute,” she agreed, emotionless.

“But you have no idea where he is?”

“None whatsoever,” Jenner said. “Do you?” she asked her friend.

“Who?” said the friend, not looking up from her phone, hair covering her face. It totally might've been Caitlyn Jenner, but I was too wrapped up in the missing child case at hand to investigate further. But Caitlyn, if you're reading this, I love you and truly admire your choice to hire Jen Rade as your stylist—the white custom Versace dress at the ESPYs was a fashion moment I'll tell my future kids about.

“Forget it!” I shouted at them and stormed off into the bar.

I was getting proper nervous now.

“Scott?! Are you still there?” I said, stepping out into the hallway. “Okay, tell me what to do. I get it. I fucked up.”

“Hey, I'm here. It's okay. If Knox is there with you then it's fine. But I want you guys to get on a plane to Baltimore first thing in the—”

“He's not here! OKAY!? I lied!” I said pathetically into the phone. “I fucking lost him! He's probably dead!!”

Then I felt a pull on the back of my jacket. I spun around so fast that I almost threw my phone across the room. It was little Knoxie. Thank Christ.

“Babe. What the actual fuck? You left me in there.”

“Just kidding!” I said into the phone.

“You found him?” asked Scott.

“He's right here.”

“Can you put him on the phone?”

“It's Scott, the coach from your school,” I said, handing the phone to Knox. We both sat on the floor with our backs against the wall. My back was hurting from the bed at Roman's, and I was fucking exhausted from the drama of the previous twenty minutes. TBH, I needed another drink.

“Hey, Mr. Chapman . . . Yeah . . . I'm fine . . . It wasn't her fault . . . I was just wandering around on my own . . . I know . . . I know . . . Yeah, I understand . . . It's tomorrow . . . Really? . . . But . . . My mom said that? . . . Okay . . . Yeah, I know . . . Yeah, we did . . . Lots of Prada. Like, tons of Prada . . . I know, I'm kind of dying . . . Uh-huh. . . . Okay, I will . . . Yeah . . .”

Knox handed the phone back to me. He did look pretty wiped out.

“Hey, Scott, it's me.”

“So here's what's gonna happen now. I need you to pay attention.”

“I'm listening, I swear.”

“Okay. There's a flight out of LA at 9:30 a.m. that I want you guys on.”

“Scott, the
MasterChef Junior
audition is tomorrow. I'm obvs taking Knox to the audition. Don't be crazy.”

He paused for a second. I heard a deep, pensive breath.

“You're a smart person, right, Babe?”

“Is this a test?”

“No.”

“Yes, I'm fucking smart. Hello? You met me.”

“Well, as a fellow smart person, I'd like to acknowledge the fact that sometimes we do things because our heart tells us to, not because they are actually smart decisions. Do you know what I mean when I say that?”

“Please don't patronize me. I'm wasted and did a little bit more MDMA tonight than I had originally wanted to, but I'm not a child. So you don't need to speak to me like I am.”

“Babe, you literally kidnapped someone else's child, an individual for whom you have no guardian's rights, no legal papers stating that you're his caretaker, nothing.”

“You clearly don't understand the bond that's been born
between Knox and myself,” I said, winking at Knox who was now leaning on my shoulder and starting to doze off.

“What you're doing is illegal, and the sentence for kidnapping in this country can be anywhere between fifteen years to life in prison. Do you like prison movies?”

The world stopped in this moment. I thought about Scott's question for a while. So long, in fact, that he started just shouting my name over and over until I finally said something.

“We'll come back tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“As long as there are seats left in first class.”

Scott laughed. He had the best laugh, very masc, very sexy. And that meant he didn't hate me.

“There are. I already checked because I knew you'd ask.”

“Oh, okay, that's creepy slash amazing. Are you my husband, Scott? Seriously, I feel like we have a super deep—”

“Get some sleep. You're doing the right thing. Now get a cab and go home.”

“We are, we are. I'm hanging up.”

“Okay. I'll call Veronica now and let her know that you guys are coming back in the morning.”

I was about to hit the “end” button on my phone but I pulled it back up to my ear. “You still there?”

“Yeah, what's up?” he said.

“Nothing. Just . . . thanks for looking out for Knox.”

“Oh, yeah, sure thing. I love that fuckin' kid.”

I hung up. A single tear. Without even trying.

Knoxie and I literally ran the fuck out of the hotel, no good-byes. We hopped into a cab, and I told the driver the address to my dad's house. I knew Roman's place would still be a party at this hour.

“We're going to your house?” Knox asked, watching the city pass us through the window.

“Yeah, it just makes more sense. I'll schedule for a messenger to bring all of our shit over, so don't worry about that. And I already organized shipment of your Barneys stuff to your house.”

“Okay.”

I felt guilt. I hate feeling guilt. But I'd let my wonderful, vulnerable new love down tonight. I was supposed to be a role model, not get sloshed and lose him at the Chateau.

“You okay?” I asked quietly, unsure if he'd fallen asleep.

“I'm okay. It was fun. Just a lot of people. I didn't know what to do or say. I normally know what to say to people. Tonight I felt, like, weird about myself.”

“That has nothing to do with you. It's just LA. It can make people feel bad about themselves.”

“Don't get me wrong,” he said, adjusting in his seat to face me. “I still think I'm fierce. LA won't change that.”

“Yes!!” I shouted. The cabdriver gasped.

B
y the time we got to my house, it was almost 4:30 a.m. Knox climbed out of the cab and stood in the driveway looking at the property.

“I almost can't believe I'm really here.”

“It's gorge, right?” I said, handing a hundred-dollar bill to the driver and telling him to drive away quietly. I really didn't want to wake Mabinty because she has a gun.

“It's so gorge. It's, like, insane that you grew up here.”

“It's not that weird. Get over it.”

“Let me just enjoy this moment, okay?”

“You're a freak, and I love you.”

“You're a way bigger freak, Babe. Like, the biggest freak I've basically ever met. You break every rule ever and . . .”

“What?”

“I'm glad we came, even if it all didn't work out with the show.”

“Don't worry about that right now. I'm so fucking tired. Let's go inside.”

We walked over to the guesthouse, and I showed him to a room he could sleep in. He was right about this house.
It's amazing, the history between these walls. SO many chic moments, so many tragic moments, an old fuck-buddy even died here. Remember that mess? Just so much fucking Babe Walker life force everywhere. I was glad Knox was here to enjoy some of that.

I
couldn't sleep because I was still fucked up. So I texted my dad.

Babe
Dad

Dad
Babe

Babe
Where are you

Dad
Berlin

Dad
Julianne is being honored at a film festival here and there's a big party for her so she invited Lizbeth and I

Babe
Moore?

Dad
Yes darling

Babe
Chic

Dad
What are you doing up? You're in LA, yes? Isn't it 5 in the morning there

Babe
Yes. Long story. I'm here with Knox. We're at the house.

Babe
it's really nice to be home

Babe
I missed it here. I miss you.

Dad
I miss you madly darling. How's it going with the Donna of it all