Next up is Friz Freleng’s Bird’s Anonymous, where Sylvester goes into the twelve-step program to get over his obsession with Tweety Bird. I realize I’ll have to join a similar group for lovesick fools if Brooke doesn’t come back to me. Robert McKimson’s terrific Gorilla My Dreams distracts me with Bugs’ antics when he’s adopted by two gorillas in the jungle.

But my favorite on this DVD is Bob Clampett’s Porky in Wackyland, a black and white surreal cartoon from the thirties. Porky finds himself falling through a chute into an alternate reality while searching for the rare and illusive Dodo bird. As well-meaning Porky stumbles through the Dali-inspired landscapes, he comes across numerous strange creatures and becomes so exasperated trying to get what he wants most. At some point he’s just trying to survive his ordeal. I don’t think I’ve ever related to Porky Pig quite like I do today, because ever since Monday I’ve been tumbling through Wackyland too.

• • •

At three-forty, I fire up the Mini-Cooper and head to the Toluca Lake Starbucks, right at the edge of the studio side of Burbank. After scanning the place to make sure Brooke isn’t here yet, I order our drinks and find a quiet table outside. I don’t know when I’ve ever been so nervous. The entire time my stomach is fluttering and my right eye’s twitching.

I try to focus on Brooke’s macchiato, and luckily the idea for her illustration comes easily to me. Sometimes the most obvious solution is also the best one. I hold the cup and work carefully while I move my Sharpie over the curved surface. As I carefully finish the sketch, I sense someone settling into Brooke’s chair and I look up to warn them that the seat is taken. But it’s Brooke, and she’s watching me with her huge, somber eyes.

My Brooke.

She studies me carefully, and it’s almost more than I can take. As much as I want to jump up and grab her, I have to follow her cues. She chose to sit down quietly without even hugging me first. The realization makes me incredibly sad.

“Hey, Brooke,” I say softly.

“Hi.” She smiles a sad smile.

We just stare at each other for another moment, taking in everything. She looks tired, not good at all. This is a much different woman than the one I kissed goodbye Monday morning.

“Is that for me?” she asks, pointing to the cup I just finished.

“Yeah,” I answer, gently pushing it towards her.

She reaches for it and rotates it slowly until she finds her sketch. She takes a sharp breath and gently runs her finger over the rendering of B-Girl.

A tear works its way down her cheek and she lifts her beautiful hand to brush it away. “I love it,” she says looking up at me.

I get up and stand next to her chair. “Come here,” I say gently as I extend my arms open.

She blinks back more tears and slowly rises, then steps into my embrace. I fold my arms tightly around her. My heart pounds wildly just to have her close. I’m holding my Brooke again.

“God, I’ve missed you,” I whisper into her hair.

“Oh Nathan. You have no idea…” Her fingers press into me like she’s afraid I’ll let her go.

“No, I don’t. I wish you’d returned my calls. Then I would’ve had an idea.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t…I just couldn’t call, even if I’d gotten the messages. But I thought about you every minute of every day.”

She thought of me every minute? If I was in her thoughts…surely, I must still be in her heart. Hope fires up inside of me.

“I’ve been in the dark all week. If Morgan hadn’t at least told me you were all right, I would’ve gone mad,” I say.

“But that’s the thing…I haven’t been all right. I’ve been in really bad shape. I pretty much fell apart Monday afternoon.”

“But why didn’t you let me help you?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to come to terms with the fact that I single-handedly wrecked your career. It pretty much pushed me over the edge.”

I look down and notice that her hands are trembling. Her spirit seems to be folding inward like a delicate origami.

“I became single-minded,” she continues with a glazed look. “Night and day, all I could do was work on my plan to fix it. I had no sense of time or reality. I still can’t believe it’s been four days since everything fell apart.”

I pull away from her and look down on her sternly.

“Brooke, you didn’t single-handedly wreck my career. I’m not going to let you take that on. Besides, we both lost a lot that day.”

I lead her back to her chair, and once she is sitting again, I go back to mine.

She pulls her fingers through her hair nervously. “I don’t care about that job. For me, it was shattering to lose my dignity. But even worse, I lost the belief in myself.”

“Oh, Brooke.”

“How can you be so calm with me knowing you lost B-Girl and don’t have a job, thanks to my supreme stupidity?”

“What do you mean stupidity?”

“Knowing how territorial Arnauld is, I should have known he’d go after you. He’s so paranoid I should’ve assumed he’d have cameras everywhere. It also should’ve occurred to me that he’d have his guy following us while he was gone. I was just so blissed out with you that I felt like we were in a perfect bubble. I stopped paying attention and left the door open for his menace.”

I think back and remember the guy in Arnold’s office that looked familiar. Hell no! He followed us all week? As my mind races to try to place where I may have seen him, my phone suddenly rings.

I look down and raise my eyebrows. Walter.

“Who is it?” Brooke asks as the rings continue.

“My lawyer.”

“Answer it, please,” she says.

I pick up the phone and press the screen. “Hello, Walter.”

“Nathan, I’ve also got Arthur and Diana conferenced in, as well.”

“Good, what’s up?” I ask nervously.

“Well, I have big news. I just got a call from their attorney. I’m happy to report that the case has been dropped.”

I close my eyes, and reach out to Brooke. She takes my hand and winds her fingers through mine. I hold onto her tightly. Taking a deep breath, I try to still my thundering heart.

She squeezes my hand, and I look up at her. “It’s over,” she whispers, smiling gently.

“Nathan?” Walter asks into the phone.

“I’m here. I’m just in shock I think. I can’t believe it’s over. I mean, is it really over?

He can’t come after me again?”

“No. The agreement that they just faxed us states as much. We have a messenger on the way over with the official signed copy.”

“We couldn’t be more pleased,” Mom chimes in. “Thanks to you and your team, Walter, for everything.”

“Well, honestly, Diana, I can’t take credit for this victory. It seems Nathan’s friend, Ms. Tobin, made this happen. We were just the second string defense if you will. Although I’m sure we intimidated him, it was still too early in the game for us to do our real magic.”

“Do you know what Brooke did, Walter?” Dad asks, always the curious man.

“I was able to garner information that evidently Ms. Tobin had some incriminating evidence against Arnauld that she used to barter to get Nathan’s property back. In turn, she walked away from her contract and position. She acted very selflessly. Frankly, I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” he admits.

My heart’s pounding as I look over at Brooke, concern etched across her face.

“Anything wrong?” she whispers.

I shake my head, lift her hand and kiss it like I’d seen in old movies. She smiles warmly at me.

“Well, sometimes it takes a crisis to test a person’s true character,” says Mom softly. “And I will always hold a special place in my heart for Brooke, for the way she fought for our son.”

“You see why I love her so much?” I ask, not even caring that Walter is still on the line.