Family album

He said as much to his father now. He had nothing in common with Ward anymore, but he had to talk to someone. He wondered if John's parents blamed him.

“They should, you know.” He looked at his father with broken eyes and Ward felt his heart melt toward the boy he had tried so hard to hate for the past year. And now one of them was dead, and it had to end. Faye was right. They were lucky it hadn't been Li. These moments with him now were like a gift.

“We blamed you both for a lot of things in the past year. And we were wrong.” Ward sighed and looked out at the trees as they walked along. It was easier than looking his son in the eye, something he hadn't done in almost exactly a year, even after Li and John had rescued Anne. “I didn't understand what made you the way you are. I thought it was my fault, so I took it out on you … and I was wrong….” He looked at Lionel, and saw tears coursing slowly down his cheeks, tears mirrored by his own. “I was wrong to blame myself. Just as you're wrong to blame yourself now. You couldn't have done anything, Li….” They stopped walking and he took the boy's hands in his own. “I know how hard you must have tried,” his voice broke, “I know how much you loved John.” He didn't want to know but he did. And now he pulled Lionel close to him, their cheeks touching, their hearts beating against each other's chests, their tears falling on each other's shoulders as they cried and Lionel looked at him, seeming like a little boy again.

“I tried, Daddy … I did … and I couldn't get him out fast enough….” Great sobs broke from him, and Ward held him tight, as though to keep him safe from harm.

“I know you did, son … I know….” There was no telling him it was all right. For John, it would never be all right again. And Lionel felt he would never recover from it. It was a loss that none of them would ever forget, a lesson dearly learned.

And when they went back to the house, the others were waiting for them. It was a quiet dinner that night, and afterwards, they all went to their own rooms. Almost everything Lionel owned had been destroyed in the fire, except a few things he had forgotten at his parents' house, some jewelry that had been darkened by the smoke, but not lost, and his car, which was parked outside now. He was sleeping in his old room. Quietly Faye went about shopping for him in the next few days, and bought a few things she knew he'd need, and he was touched. Ward lent him some things, and the two men spent more time together than they had in a long time.

Greg went back to school, and the day of her birthday, Anne went back to school too, for the first time in a year. It was painful and difficult but it was what she had to do. Anyway it distracted her. And a few weeks later, the bandages came off Lionel's arms. The scars were there, scars they could all see, unlike those he wore deep inside. And no one had mentioned the fact that he had not gone back to school. He wasn't ready yet.

He took them all by surprise when he asked Ward to lunch one day. He looked across the table from him at the Polo Lounge, and he looked far older than his years, as Ward watched him quietly. He didn't understand his way of life any better than he had before and he was sorry that that was what he preferred, but he respected him now. He liked his values and his views and his reasoning and it disappointed him all the more when Lionel told him he wouldn't be going back to school.

“I've thought about it a hell of a lot, Dad. And I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“But why? You only have a year and a half left. That's not so bad. You're just upset right now.” At least he hoped it was that. But Lionel shook his head.

“I can't go back, Dad. I don't belong there anymore. I've had an offer to work on a film, and I want to get out there and do that now.”

“And then what, in three months you're through with that and you're out of work again?” It was a business he knew well.

“Just like you. Huh, Dad?” he teased and Ward smiled, but he still wasn't pleased with the news, although he respected him for telling him man to man. “I've just had it with school. I've got to try my wings.”

“You're only twenty years old. What's your rush?” But they both knew he had lived a lot for his age, in part because of John. He had suffered, and lost someone he dearly loved. He couldn't go back to being a child again, no matter how much Ward wanted him to, and although he resisted admitting it, Ward knew it too. John's death had changed all of them, it had allowed him to form a bond with his son again. But Lionel would never be as young, or as carefree, as he had been before. Maybe he was right to give up school, but Ward was sorry anyway. “I'm sorry to see you do it, son.”

“I knew you would be, Dad.”

“Who's offering you the job?”

Lionel grinned. “Fox.” The competition of course. And Ward laughed and put a hand to his heart as though he had been shot.

“What a blow. I wish you'd stay out of this damn business.” He meant what he said but Lionel shrugged.

“You and Mom seem to like it a lot.”

“And sometimes we get good and tired of it.” He had been feeling that way for a while, and he wanted to talk Faye into taking a trip with him. She had finished a film and would be free for a while, and she had no excuses now, and then as he looked at Lionel, he had an idea. “You're not moving out right away, are you?”

“I thought I'd start getting organized one of these days and look for a place to stay. I don't want to get in your way.”

“Not at all.” Ward smiled apologetically at him, remembering how harsh he had been. “Would you be willing to stay for another month and keep an eye on the girls?”

“Sure.” Lionel looked surprised. “How come?”

“I want to take your mother away. She needs a break, and so do I.” They hadn't had five minutes alone since he had ended his affair and moved back into the house nine months before, and it was high time they went on a trip together. Lionel smiled at the thought.

“I'd be happy to do that, Dad. It would do you both good.”

Ward smiled at him as they left the restaurant. They were friends again. Friends as they had never been. Man to man … no matter how odd that seemed. And that night Ward told Faye about his plans. “And I don't want to hear any arguments. No excuses. Nothing about work or the kids, or the actors you have to talk to about the script. We're leaving two weeks from tonight.” He had ordered the tickets that afternoon. They were leaving for Paris, Rome, and Switzerland, and instead of arguing, her eyes lit up.

“Are you serious?” She looked at him, amused, and put her arms around him.

“I am. And if you don't come willingly, I'll kidnap you. We're going to stay away for three weeks, and maybe four.” He had checked her production schedule secretly that afternoon and knew she could stay away for that long.

She followed him upstairs that night with a lighter step, and pirouetted in her nightgown as he teased her about Paris and Rome.

“It's been too long since we did something like that, Faye.” “I know.” She sat down quietly on the bed and looked at him. They had almost lost each other once or twice, they had almost lost two children … a daughter … and a son … they had given up a grandchild and their son's lover had died. It hadn't been an easy time for any of them. And if anyone had asked her a year before if her marriage could have been saved, she would have told them no. But now, as she looked at him, she knew she still loved the man, with all his faults, with his affairs, with the times he had failed her, even with the anguish he had inflicted on their son. She loved Ward Thayer. She had for years, and probably always would. She had few illusions about him after twenty-two years, but she loved the man he was. And that night, when they went to bed, they made love as they had years and years before.

CHAPTER 27

Paris was exquisite that spring, as they wandered along the Seine, went to Les Halles for onion soup, strolled down the Champs Élysées, went to Dior, and then lunch at Fouquet's and dinner at Maxim's and the Brasserie Lipp. They had drinks at the Cafe Flore and the Deux Magots and they laughed and cuddled and hugged and kissed over cheese and wine. It was just exactly what Ward had wanted it to be, a second honeymoon, a place to forget all the sorrows of the past year or two, the children, the films, the responsibilities, and when they reached Lausanne, Faye sat looking out at Lac Leman and smiled at him.

“You know, I'm glad I married you.” She said it matter-of-factly as she sipped her coffee and ate a croissant, and he laughed at her.

“I'm awfully glad to hear that. What made you decide that?”

“Well,” she mused, staring out at the lake, “you're a nice man. You make a mess of things sometimes, but you're smart enough and decent enough to go back and straighten things out.” She was thinking of Lionel, and she was relieved that he and the boy were friends again. And she was thinking of his affair too.

“I try hard. I'm not as smart as you are sometimes, Faye.”

“Bullshit.”

“You sound like Val.” He looked disapprovingly at her and she laughed.

“Well, I'm no smarter than you are. Just more stubborn sometimes.”

“I don't always have the guts to hang on the way you do. Sometimes I want to run away.” He had done it twice so far, but she had always taken him back and he was grateful for that. But he was surprised at what she said next.

“Sometimes I want to run away too, you know. But then I worry about what would happen if I did … who would keep an eye on Val … make sure Anne was all right … Vanessa … Greg … Li …” She smiled at him. “You. Somehow, I'm so damn egocentric that I figure none of it would run right if I disappeared, which isn't true, but it keeps me hanging in.”

“I'm glad.” He smiled at her and took her hand. They still had romance between them after all these years. “Because you're right. None of it would run right if you disappeared, and I'm glad you never have.”

“Maybe one day I will. I'll run off and have some wild affair with a grip on the set.” She laughed at the thought, and Ward did not look amused.

“I've worried about that a few times. There are some actors I'm not crazy about your working with.” It was the first time he had admitted that to her and she was touched.

“I always behave myself.”

“I know. That's why I keep such a good eye on you.”

“Oh it is, is it?” She tweaked his ear, and he kissed her, and a little while later they went inside, forgetting Lac Leman and the Alps, and their children and careers. They only thought of each other for their remaining days abroad, and they were both sorry when they boarded the plane to go home. “It was a beautiful vacation, wasn't it, love?”

“It was.” He smiled at her, and she slipped a hand into his arm, and leaned her head on him.

“I'd like to spend a lifetime doing that one day.”

“No, you wouldn't,” he laughed, “you'd go stark staring mad. By next week, you'll be knee deep in your new picture, and telling me how impossible everyone is, that none of the costumes fit, the scenery stinks, the locations are no good, no one knows their lines. You'll be tearing your beautiful blond hair out by the roots. And without that, you'd be so bored you couldn't stand it … could you?” She laughed at his accurate description of her business life.

“Well, maybe I'm not quite ready to retire yet, but one of these days …”

“Just let me know when.”

“I will.” And she looked as though she might.

But he was right. Two weeks later, life was just as he had described; she was going totally nuts, her biggest star was giving her a rough time, two others were on drugs, another drank on the set and showed up drunk every day after lunch, an entire set had burned to the ground, the unions were threatening to walk out. Life was back to normal again, but they were both revived after their trip. Lionel had the girls well in hand when they got back. Anne seemed to have settled back into school, the twins were behaving, more or less, the news from Greg was good, and a month later, Lionel moved out again, he had found a place of his own, and although Faye knew he would be lonely there without John, she thought it might do him good. He was doing the film for Fox, and he said it was going well when he called. The only problem they had was with Anne, who had wanted to move in with him. Lionel had discouraged her. He told her that she didn't belong with him now. That he had to live his own life, and so did she, that it had been right for a time, but no more. Now she had to make a life for herself in school again, make new friends, revive old friendships if she wished. But she belonged with Ward and Faye, he told her.

He moved out one Saturday afternoon, as Anne watched him in tears, and she spent the rest of the day in her room. But the next day, she went to the movies with one of her friends, and Faye decided there was hope for her. She hadn't mentioned the pregnancy in a long time, and she never mentioned the baby she had given up, and Faye prayed that she would forget it all if that was possible.

And Faye tried to forget it herself as she dove into her film, and stopped only for the Academy Awards, which were at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium that year. She convinced Lionel and the twins to come. She thought that Anne was too young, so she stayed home in lonely isolation, as usual, refusing to even watch the awards on TV.

Faye didn't think she'd win, and she kept telling Ward all that night as she got dressed that it was ridiculous to get worked up about it, they didn't mean anything anymore … not like when she was young … when she was acting … when it was the first time. “And after all,” she looked at him, as she fastened pearls around her neck, “I've already won two.”

“Show-off.” He teased her and she blushed.

“That's not what I meant.” She looked ravishing in a black velvet dress that showed off the still firm perfectly rounded breasts and he slipped a hand inside her dress now as she shooed him away. She wanted to look perfect tonight. Everyone would be so beautiful and young, and she was forty-seven now … forty-seven … how did it all happen so fast? It seemed like only last year when she was twenty-two … and twenty-five … and she was madly in love with Ward Thayer … and they were dancing at Mocambo's every night. She looked dreamily at Ward, remembering the distant past, and he kissed her gently on the neck.

“You look beautiful tonight, my love. And I think you're going to win.”

“Don't say that!” She didn't even want to think of it. But things had been wonderful between them ever since they got back from their trip. There was an aura of romance which shut out everyone else sometimes, but she didn't mind. She loved being alone with him, in spite of the children they loved so much. They needed just each other at times. And as they left the house that night with the twins, all dressed up in long gowns and the strings of pearls Faye had lent each of them, Faye saw Anne standing in her room and stopped in to kiss her goodnight. She looked like a lonely lost child and Faye was sorry they hadn't invited her too, but she was so young, just fifteen … and it was a Monday night after all, she had told Ward. Anne had school the next day. Yet, she reproached herself for not taking her. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” She kissed Anne's cheek nervously, and her youngest looked up at her, still with that puzzled air that always seemed to be asking her who she was. She had hoped that after she sat through childbirth with her, they would be friends, but it hadn't worked out that way. Secretly, Anne blamed her for causing her to give up the child, and as soon as she had come home from the hospital, the doors had closed again. There was no getting close to her. Except for Lionel, of course. He was both mother and father to her.

“Good luck, Mom.” She called it out carelessly as they left, and then helped herself to something to eat.

They picked up Lionel at his place on the way. He looked very handsome in an old tuxedo of Ward's, and he jabbered with the twins in the back seat of Faye's Jaguar, and Ward complained all the way that it wasn't driving well again, he didn't understand what she did to it. It was one of those nervous nights, when you pretend you're not thinking what you really are. Everyone was there, Richard Burton and Liz, both of them nominees for Virginia Woolf, and she wearing a diamond the size of a fist. The Redgrave sisters were there, both of them nominated as well … Audrey Hepburn, Leslie Caron, Mel Ferrer. Faye was up against Antoine Lebouch, Mike Nichols, and more for best director. Anouk Aimee, Ida Kaminska, the Redgraves, and Liz Taylor were vying for best actress. Scofield, Arkin, Burton, Caine, and McQueen for best actor. Bob Hope kept everyone amused as emcee, and then suddenly it seemed they were calling Faye's name … she had won for best director again, and she flew toward the stage with tears in her eyes, still feeling Ward's kiss on her lips, and suddenly there she was, looking at all of them, the golden statue clutched in her hands, just as she had held him so long ago the first time she won for best actress in 1942 … a hundred years ago, it seemed and only last night … twenty-five years … and the thrill was still there for her.

“Thank you … all of you … my husband, my family, my co-workers, my friends … thank you.” She beamed and left the stage, and she could hardly remember what happened for the rest of the night.

They came home finally at 2 A.M., and she knew it was too late for the twins to be out, but it was a special night. They had called Anne from the Moulin Rouge but she hadn't answered the phone. Val had suggested that she was probably asleep, but Lionel knew better than that. It was her way of shutting them out, of getting back at them for not including her. And, like his mother, he knew they had made a mistake by not bringing her.

Long afterward, they dropped Lionel off on the way home, and he kissed his mother's cheek again. The twins were strangely silent for the rest of the drive home. Vanessa was half asleep, and Val hadn't said anything to Faye all night. She was seething with anger over her mother's award. Lionel and Vanessa were well aware of it, but Faye seemed not to realize how jealous Val was of her.

“Did you have a good time, girls?” Faye turned to look at them in the car, thinking of the Oscar she had won. They had taken it to be engraved, but she still felt its presence, as though she still held it in her hands. It was impossible to believe it had happened to her again. Now she had three. She beamed at Val, and was startled to see something chilly in her eyes, something she had never recognized quite that clearly before. It wasn't just anger this time, it was jealousy.

“It was all right. You must be pretty pleased with yourself.” They were unkind words, and no one else seemed to hear them quite the way Faye did, but they were aimed straight at her heart, and Val had hit her mark.

“It's very exciting, it always is, I guess.”

Val shrugged as she looked at her. “I hear they give them out of sympathy sometimes.” The comment was so outrageous that Faye laughed at her.

“I don't think I'm quite that over the hill yet, although you never know.” And of course it was true, sometimes they passed one up and then made it up the next year, although they denied that it worked that way, but everyone felt that it did. “Is that what you think this was, Val?” Her mother searched her eyes. “Sympathy?”

“Who knows?” She shrugged indifferently and looked out the window again as they drove up to the house. It irked her that Faye had won and she made no secret of it. She was the first to leave the car, to reach her room, to close the door, and she never mentioned the Oscar again, not even to Anne the next day. Or when her friends mentioned it in school, and congratulated her. That seemed strange, she had nothing to do with it after all and what did she care anyway? So she just shrugged and said, “Yeah, so what? Big deal.” And changed the subject to something that interested her like the Supremes. She was sick of hearing about Faye Thayer. She wasn't so hot. And one day, she would show all of them, she would be an actress who would make Faye Price Thayer look pale by comparison. She only had a few months left before she could get out there and show them her stuff, and she could hardly wait. She'd show them all. To hell with her Mom … three Oscars? So what anyway?

CHAPTER 28

The twins graduated from high school two months after Faye won the Academy Award, and Greg came home for the summer just in time to attend the graduation ceremony at his old school.

This year their eyes were dry. Ward leaned over to Faye halfway through the ceremony to say “I feel as though they should be giving us a diploma by now.” Faye giggled softly and rolled her eyes. He was right, and they would be back again four years from now, for Anne. It seemed to go on forever. And in two years, Greg would be graduating from the University of Alabama. They seemed to be spending half their life watching young people line up in gowns and mortarboards. But it was touching when the twins got theirs, in spite of how many times they'd seen it before. They wore simple white dresses beneath their gowns. Vanessa's totally plain with a high neck and embroidered hem, Val's a slightly too dressy organdie with a pair of very sexy high heels that set off her legs. But the shoes weren't Faye's biggest disagreement with her. Valerie had staunchly refused to apply to any college, East or West. She was going to model, act, and in her spare time go to acting school, and not the drama department at UCLA, the kind where “real actors” went between jobs, to perfect their skills. She was sure she would find herself in classes with Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford and she was equally sure that she was going to set the world on fire, despite everything Ward and Faye said to her.

It had been a heated argument for the past several months, and she was more stubborn than either of them. In desperation, Ward had told her he wouldn't support her if she didn't go to school, and that seemed to suit her fine. Someone had told her about a coven of young actresses in West Hollywood; for only a hundred and eighteen dollars a month, she could have a bed and share a room. Two of the actresses had jobs on soaps, one of them did porno films, though Val didn't tell her parents that, one was a big star in a horror film the year before, and there were four others who modeled regularly. It sounded like a whorehouse to Faye, and she told Val so, but the twins were nearly eighteen now, and Valerie reminded her of it constantly. It was an argument which they couldn't win. A week later, they knew that she would be moving out. Vanessa had done exactly as she planned. She had applied to a handful of schools in the East, been accepted at all of them, and was going to Barnard in the fall. She was staying until the end of June, and then she was going to New York to work for two months before starting school. She had gotten a job as a receptionist in a publishing house and she was all excited about it. Meanwhile Greg was going to Europe with friends. Only Anne was staying home this year. They had tried to talk her into camp, but she insisted that she was too old, and she wanted to go camping with Lionel for a week or two, but he was working on a new film for Fox and didn't have time. And Ward and Faye were starting a biggie too. Ever since the Academy Award, the offers had been rolling in with even greater regularity than before. Faye had three projects lined up back to back for the next year, and no spare time at all. Ward reminded her that it was a good thing they'd made the trip to Europe when they had, and she agreed.

The twins' graduation party was the rowdiest of all, and Faye looked at Ward in exhaustion as the last guest left at 4 A.M. “Maybe we're getting too old for this.”

“Speak for yourself. Personally, I think seventeen-year-old girls are a lot more attractive than they used to be.”

“Watch out for that.” She wagged a finger at him, and lay down on their bed, before leaving for work at five. There was a big scene she wanted to set up, and Ward was going to spend the day with Lionel and Anne. Val had a hot date, Vanessa had her own plans. God only knew where Greg was, or with whom, but undoubtedly it involved sports, beer, or girls, and he seemed relatively well able to take care of himself, and Faye went to work happily just as Ward fell asleep. And the summer seemed to whiz by. Valerie moved into the apartment she loved so much. There were actually nine girls living there when she moved in. It was a huge house, and half the beds had no sheets on them at all. In the kitchen there were six bottles of vodka, two lemons, three bottles of soda, and no food at all in the fridge, and she hardly ever saw any of the other girls. They had their own lives, boyfriends, some of them had their own phones, and Val had never been happier in her life, she told Vanessa just before she left.

'This is just what I've always wanted to do.”

“How's acting school?” Vanessa asked, wondering how they could have shared the same womb, same life, same house. Two people couldn't have been more different than they.

Val shrugged. “I haven't had time to enroll yet. I've been busy going to go-sees.” But in August she struck oil. Vanessa was already long gone, staying at the Barbizon in New York, and looking at apartments with a friend from work. The job at Parker Publishing was actually pretty dull and all she did was answer phones, but she was looking forward to Barnard. Valerie called her late one night to tell her that she had a walk-on in a horror film. “Isn't that great?”

It was three o'clock in the morning and Vanessa yawned, but she didn't want to take the wind out of Val's sails. She was pleased she'd called. “What do you get to do?”

“I walk across the set, oozing blood from my eyes and nose and ears.”

Vanessa repressed a groan. “That's wonderful. When do you start?”

“Next week.”

“That's great. Have you told Mom?”

“I haven't had time. I'll call her this week sometime,” but they both suspected Faye wouldn't be quite so thrilled although they didn't voice it. She never seemed to understand anything Val did, or so Val felt, and she was never pleased for her, and probably wouldn't be about this. But she had started small too. Hell, she had done soap ads in New York for a year before they discovered her. And this was straight into film, as she said to Van, who didn't remind her that their mother had never had to walk across a set bleeding from the nose and eyes and ears. “How's your job, Van?” She was feeling magnanimous, usually she didn't really care about anyone but herself, as Vanessa knew only too well.

“It's okay.” Vanessa yawned again. “Actually, it's pretty dull. But I met a nice girl from Connecticut. We thought we'd try and find a place together near Columbia. She's going there too.”

“Oh.” Val already sounded bored, and decided to hang up. “I'll let you know how things go.”

“Thanks. Take care.” They were oddly close, and yet not, linked to each other somehow, but with nothing in common at all. It was a bond Vanessa had always felt and never quite understood. She envied other sisters who seemed so close. She was close to neither of hers, and had always longed for a sister she could talk to and confide in, which was what was so nice about the girl from Connecticut.

And in California Anne was discovering that too. She had discovered a girl walking down Rodeo Drive one day eating an ice-cream cone, and swinging a bright pink purse from her arm. She looked like an ad in a magazine, and she had smiled at Anne. Anne thought she was beautiful, and had noticed her an hour later, eating lunch at the Daisy, sitting by herself, as Anne stopped there for a hamburger. Her mother had given her money for two new pairs of shoes, and she had been wandering along Rodeo Drive, watching the people stroll in the bright sun. It was a hot day, but there was a nice breeze, and she found herself sitting at the next table from the girl with the pink purse. They smiled at each other again, and she spoke up easily. She had soft brown hair, which fell almost to her waist, and big brown eyes, and she looked about eighteen Anne thought, but she was surprised to learn they were the same age, almost to the day.

“Hi, I'm Gail.”

“I'm Anne.” The conversation would have ended there, left up to her, but Gail seemed to have lots to say. She told her that she had seen this neat skirt at Giorgio's, it was white leather, and real soft, and they had great boots too. Anne was impressed at the places where she shopped and told her about the shoes she'd seen further up the street. They discussed the Beatles, Elvis, jazz, and eventually got around to schools.

“I'm going to Westlake next year.” She looked unimpressed and Anne's eyes grew wide.

“You are? So am I!” It was another happy coincidence, in addition to their age. She told Anne honestly that she had had mono, and then a bout with anorexia, and all in all she'd missed a year of school. She was fifteen now, and she was a year behind, she shrugged, and Anne felt as though good fortune had just walked into her life for the first time.

She was honest with her too, to a point, there were some things she intended never to tell anyone, like about the baby she'd given up, but there were other things she could say. “I dropped out for a year, and I'm a year behind too.”

“That's fabulous.” Gail looked thrilled and Anne grinned. No one had ever reacted that way before, and she knew instantly she liked this girl. She was ready for a friend. And she was bored around the Thayers' pool alone every day. Maybe Gail would like to come by sometime. “What did you do when you dropped out?” She looked fascinated by her adventurous new friend, and Anne tried to look blasé.

“I went up to the Haight-Ashbury for a while.”

Gail's eyes grew huge. “You did? Wow! Did you take any drugs?”

Anne hesitated for a fraction of an instant and shook her head. “That stuff's not so hot.” She knew differently, but she also knew the price you paid, and she knew that this girl knew nothing of that life. She looked clean and neat and pretty and well dressed and a little spoiled. She was what some people described as a Jewish American Princess, and Anne was intrigued by her. All the girls at her old school were so dull, and practically no one had even talked to her when she came back from the Haight, but this girl was nothing like them. She had style and looks and obviously a great personality, and they were attracted to each other instantly. By the end of lunch, they were giggling and having a great time, and the maitre d' was giving them angry looks for tying up two tables outside, until, finally, Gail suggested they take a walk back up Rodeo Drive.

“I'll show you the boots at Giorgio's if you want.” Anne was even more impressed when she discovered that Gail had a charge account there, and everyone seemed anxious to help her buy something. Usually, when kids went into places like that, the salespeople were anxious to get rid of them, but not Gail. Everyone called her by name, they even offered Anne a Coke from the bar. They had a great time even though Gail had decided she didn't like the boots that much after all and they were giggling again when they left.

“Ill show you the shoes at the place I went.” It was the most fun she'd had in years, ever probably. The two had hit it off, and they were having a wonderful afternoon, with nothing else to do. “Your Mom must buy a lot of stuff at Giorgio's for them to be so nice.”

Gail was quiet for a minute, staring into space, and then she looked at Anne. “My mother died of cancer two years ago. She was thirty-eight years old,” They were such shocking words that Anne just stared at her. It was the worst thing she had ever heard, much worse than anything that had happened to her in some ways. Even though she and Faye weren't close and there were times when she hated her, still to have her die that way would be terrible, and she could still see the pain in Gail's eyes now.

“Do you have sisters and brothers?”

“No. Just my Dad.” She looked at Anne honestly as they walked along. “That's why he kind of spoils me, I guess. It's like I'm all he has left. I try not to take advantage of that, but it's hard sometimes.” She smiled and Anne noticed that there were freckles dusted across her face. “I like getting my way, and he gets so upset when I cry.”

Anne laughed. “Poor man.”

“What are your parents like?”

Anne hated to even talk about them, but after Gail's confidence it seemed unfair not to share something with her. “They're all right.”

“Do you get along with them?”

Anne shrugged. The truth was that she did not, and never had. “Sometimes. They weren't too crazy about it when I took off.”

“Do they trust you now?”

“I think so.”

“Would you do it again?” Gail was curious about her new friend.

But Anne shook her head. “No, I wouldn't.”

“Do you have sisters and brothers?” They had reached the shoe shop and were wandering inside, as Anne nodded her head. “Two of each.”

“Wow!” Gail smiled the dazzling smile. She could have been a child actress if she'd wanted to, but her father would have worried about her too much. “Lucky you!”

“That's what you think!” Anne knew better and rolled her eyes.

“What're they like?”

“My older brother, Lionel, is neat. He's going to be twenty-one.” And she didn't tell Gail he was gay. “He dropped out of school too, and he's making films for Fox.” She said it like a pro and Gail was impressed again. “My other brother is a jock and goes to the University of Alabama on a football scholarship. He'll be a junior this year. And my sisters are twins. One of them just went East to go to Barnard, and the other one is trying to be an actress here.”

“Wow! That's neat!”

“Lionel is … we've always been close … the others are … well,” she shrugged again, dismissing them at one blow, “a little strange at times.” It was what they said about her too, but she didn't care what they said now. She had a new friend of her own.

Gail bought two pairs of the same shoes in different colors. And a few minutes later, she looked at her watch.

“My Dad's picking me up at four, in front of the Beverly Wilshire. Do you want a ride somewhere?”

Anne hesitated. She had taken a cab from home, but it would be fun to ride with Gail. “You don't think he'd mind?”

“Not at all. He loves doing stuff like that.” Giving strangers rides? Anne laughed. Gail was naïve in some ways but she liked that about her. They crossed Wilshire Boulevard, and stood in front of the sumptuous hotel, waiting for the car to arrive, and Anne was impressed when she saw his car. He was driving a two-tone gray Rolls, and Gail waved frantically as he stopped. Anne thought she was kidding at first, because of the fancy car. But a stocky, thick-shouldered man, with features much like hers, leaned over and opened the door, and Gail hopped in and beckoned to Anne, then explained her instantly to the man at the wheel of the Rolls. “Hi, Daddy, I made a new friend. She's going to the same school as me next year.” He didn't look upset that she was hitching a ride, and warmly shook her hand. He wasn't a handsome man, but he had a kindly face, Anne decided. His name was Bill Stein, and Anne gathered that he was an attorney in the entertainment world, and she was sure he would know who her parents were, but she didn't offer their names. She was just Anne.

He took them to Will Wright's on Sunset Boulevard for ice cream. And he had a surprise for Gail that night, he said. They were going to dinner at Trader Vic's and then a movie with some friends. And the funniest thing of all was that the film was one of Ward and Faye's, but Anne only said that she had seen it and liked it a lot, and then they talked of other things. And all the time, she felt his eyes on her, as though he were trying to figure out who she was, but more as though he were trying to draw her out. And the odd thing was that she felt safe with him, and comfortable in a way that she rarely did with anyone. When they dropped her off, she hated to see them go, and she watched the gray Rolls disappear, anxious to see Gail again. She had given her her phone number on the drive home, and Gail had promised to call the next day and come over to swim in the pool. Anne could hardly wait. She wondered if Mr. Stein would drop her off. And she was surprised to see her own father at home when she walked in, until she glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost six o'clock.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He looked up at her from the glass of wine he was pouring himself. Faye wasn't home yet, and dinner wouldn't be for a couple of hours. He wanted to relax and watch the news, maybe take a swim, and enjoy his glass of wine. He didn't drink much anymore, only wine. And he was surprised to see Anne looking so pleased with herself, he couldn't imagine over what. Most of the time, she still hid in her room. “What did you do today?”

She looked at him for a long moment and then shrugged. “Nothing much.” And then she disappeared upstairs, as usual, and closed her bedroom door with a smile this time, thinking of her new friend.

CHAPTER 29

The Barbizon for Women had provided a pleasant home for Vanessa since she had arrived in New York. There were only women living there, it was in a nice neighborhood at Sixty-third and Lexington, there was a swimming pool, and a coffee shop downstairs. It met all her needs, and she was hardly there anyway. Louise Matthison lived there too. They went to Long Island on weekends, to people Louise knew, and eventually they found an apartment to share. It was on 115 Street on the West Side, and she knew her parents would have died if they'd seen the neighborhood. But it was close to Columbia, and all the kids lived up there. She didn't like it as much as the Barbizon, but there was more freedom here. They moved in a month before school began, and took turns buying groceries and doing household chores.

It was Vanessa's turn, as she struggled up the stairs one day with a bag of groceries in each arm. There was an ancient elevator which never worked, and she was afraid to get stuck in it anyway. It was easier just to stagger up the stairs to the third floor, but as she did on a hot August afternoon, after work, she found someone staring down at her. He was tall and he had auburn hair, a pleasant face, and he was wearing a tee shirt and shorts, and carrying a stack of papers in one hand as he looked at her.

“Do you need help?” She looked up at him and was about to decline, but she liked the look of him. There was something matter-of-fact and intelligent about the man that appealed to her instantly. He was the kind of man she had hoped to meet at Parker when she took the job. But she never seemed to meet anyone there who excited her, and this young man had something that appealed to her now. She wasn't sure what it was, maybe it was just the stack of papers he held. It looked like a manuscript to her, and she wasn't far wrong. That was exactly what it was, he explained, as he set her bags of groceries down outside her door. “Just move in?” He had never seen her before, and he'd been living there for years. He had moved in when he'd gone to graduate school, and he had finished the year before. But he'd been too lazy to move out, he had too many papers lying around. He was doing research for a thesis on philosophy, and he was thinking about writing a play, but he forgot about it all now, as he looked at the slim girl with the long blond hair. She nodded in answer to his question, and dug her key out of her bag.

“I moved in with a friend two weeks ago.”

“Starting graduate school next month?” He knew the type. He'd been dating them for years. He'd been at Columbia since 1962, and five years was a long time, almost six in fact. But she was smiling at him, amused. Lately, people had begun to think she was older than she was. It was a refreshing change after years of people thinking her less sophisticated and much younger than her twin.

“No. Undergraduate, but thanks for the compliment.”

He smiled ingenuously. He had nice teeth, and an attractive smile. “Not at all. Well, see you sometime.”

“Thanks again for the hand.” He clattered down the stairs with his manuscript in hand, and Vanessa heard a door slam on the second floor. She mentioned him to Louise that night, who grinned as she set her hair on rollers for work the next day.

“He sounds cute. How old do you think he is?”

“I don't know. Old, I guess. He said he was working on his thesis, and he was carrying a manuscript.”

“Maybe he was just putting you on.”

“I don't think so. He had to be pretty close to twenty-five.” Louise immediately lost interest in him, she had just turned eighteen, and she thought nineteen was old enough. Twenty-five wasn't even fun. They just wanted to climb into bed the first time around, and Louise wasn't ready for that.

And as it turned out, Vanessa was right, or pretty close. He was twenty-four, and they met each other again one Sunday night as the girls came home from a weekend in Quogue. They were juggling suitcases and tennis rackets, Louise's oversized hat, and Van's camera, and they were climbing out of the cab that had just brought them from Penn Station all the way uptown. He had parked his battered MG across the street and was watching them. He thought Vanessa had great legs in the shorts and sandals she wore. She looked a lot like Yvette Mimieux, right down to the turned-up nose, and she had fabulous green eyes, he had noticed that day on the stairs. He sauntered across the street, wearing shorts and a tee shirt again, and loafers without socks.

“Hi, there.” They hadn't introduced themselves and he didn't know her name, but he volunteered to help with the bags. He was juggling both tennis rackets, a suitcase in each hand, and his own briefcase, which was no small feat, and Vanessa was awkwardly attempting to help and thanking him, as everything fell in a heap in front of their door and he looked at her. “You guys sure drag a lot of stuff around.” And then in a soft voice, as Louise stepped inside, “Want to come down for a glass of wine?” Vanessa was tempted to, but she had the feeling he was putting a fast move on her. She didn't go to men's apartments, and she didn't really know who he was. He could have been the Boston Strangler for all she knew, but he seemed to read her mind. “You won't get raped, I swear. Not unless you agree.” He looked her over appraisingly and she blushed, as he wondered exactly how old she was. She looked about twenty-one but she had said she was an undergraduate. Maybe twenty, or even nineteen. She had a calm, tranquil air, and all that healthy blond beauty, which appealed to him. He was dying to spend some time with her.

Instead of going downstairs with him, she invited him in to join her roommate and herself for a beer. It wasn't what he would have preferred, but since he seemed to have no choice, he accepted gracefully, put the rest of their stuff inside the hall, closed the door, and looked around at what they'd done to the place. It had all been painted pale yellow and there were plants and magazines, and a lot of rattan, and some Indian prints, and there was a photograph of a large family on the wall. A massive group standing next to a swimming pool. It looked very California to him, and he inquired as to who they were, and then suddenly recognized Van, standing next to Valerie, with Lionel next to her.

“Those are my folks.” She said it simply and he didn't question her about who they were, and then suddenly Louise laughed as she strolled by with a beer can in her hand.

“Aren't you going to ask her who her Mom is?”

Vanessa blushed to the roots of her hair and she could have killed her friend. She hated talking about that, but Louise had been impressed ever since she had discovered that her mother was Faye Thayer. She had seen all her films, including the ones she had acted in years before.

“Okay.” The tall young man with auburn hair looked at her with an obliging smile. “Who's your Mom?”

“Dracula, who's yours?”

“Cute.”

“Want another beer?”

“Sure.” He liked the way her eyes danced when she smiled, and he was curious now, as he glanced at the photograph again. There was something familiar about all of them, but nothing specific came to mind as he looked at Vanessa again. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“Okay, big deal. My Mom is Faye Thayer.” It was easier to get it over with than to play coy. It wasn't all that important to her, and she hadn't bragged about it since third grade. In fact, she had learned to keep her mouth shut most of the time. It wasn't easy being the child of a celebrity, let alone one who had won three Academy Awards. Somehow, it made people expect more of you, or else they were quick to criticize. And Vanessa liked getting by quietly in life. The boy was looking at her now, with narrowed eyes, as he nodded his head.

“That is very interesting. I like her films. Some of them.”

“So do I.” She smiled. At least he hadn't fallen all over himself the way some people did. “What did you say your name was again?” He had never really said. It had all been pretty casual as he carried their bags upstairs.

“Jason Stuart.” He smiled at her. She certainly didn't seem stuck up about who she was. Her friend was a lot more impressed. He glanced at the picture again. “Who are all the other kids?”

“My brothers and sisters.”

'That's quite a mob.” He was impressed. He was an only child, and large families had never appealed to him much. He liked his life the way it was. His parents were older and had retired to New Hampshire, and everything would come to him one day, not that there was much. His father was an attorney, with a small country practice now, though he wasn't really interested in pursuing it anymore, and he did as little as he could. Jason had thought he might like to go into law too, but when he thought of it seriously, writing had a lot more appeal to him. He was going to write a play, after his thesis, he told Vanessa over their third beer. It wasn't so much that he liked to drink, but the heat was killing them. The whole building seemed to be baking after a day of it, and after Louise went to bed, they went outside to get some air. They walked along Riverside Drive for a while, he telling her about New England, and she talking about Beverly Hills.

“I'd say they're worlds apart, wouldn't you?” He smiled down at her again. She seemed mature for her age, and quiet, and unassuming. She laughed a little later on and told him about her twin.

“We're worlds apart, too. All she wants to do is be a big star. She just got a part in a horror movie with blood streaming out of her ears.” He made a face and they both laughed. “I'd like to write a screenplay one day, but you couldn't pay me to act.” And then, for no reason in particular she thought of Lionel, and she had a feeling he would like this man, and Jason would like him. Both of them were honest, unpretentious, and bright. “My brother's making films too.”

“You people must be quite a group.” Overwhelming at best.

“I suppose we are. I'm used to us. And everyone's going their own way now. There's only one left at home.” Poor little Anne with her runaway days in the Haight, and the baby she'd had to give away. Vanessa felt sorry for her sometimes, although she didn't understand her now any better than she ever had. They all seemed so far away now, as though they were part of another world. She wondered when they would all be together again, or if. It seemed unlikely now, although she had promised them she would try to come home for Christmas this year. But who knew what would happen between now and then, or where Lionel or Val or Greg would be.

“Do you like your family?”

“Some of them.” For no reason in particular, she was honest with him, but she had no reason not to be, as long as she didn't tell him too much, like about Lionel or Anne, but she had no intention of doing that. “I'm closer to some than others. My older brother is really neat.” She had come to respect him more and more for standing up for what he was. She knew how difficult it had all been for him.

“How old is he?”

“Twenty-one, his name is Lionel, and my other brother Greg is twenty, then there's Val, my twin, she's eighteen too obviously, and Anne is fifteen.”

“Your folks sure didn't lose any time.” He smiled and Vanessa smiled back, and they walked slowly home, as the river drifted nearby. And he walked her to her door. “Want to have lunch tomorrow?”

“I can't. I have to work.”

“I could come downtown.” The idea didn't really appeal to him much. He wanted to stay uptown and write, but she appealed to him a lot.

“Wouldn't that be too much trouble for you?”

“Yes.” He looked at her honestly. “But I like you. I can spare an hour or two.”

'Thanks.” She left him then.

He picked her up at the reception desk at Parker's the next day, and they went for a long walk, and wound up eating avocado sandwiches in a health-food restaurant he knew. He was interesting to talk to, he took himself seriously in some ways, and he thought Vanessa should too. He thought writing screenplays was junk, and he suggested she think about writing a serious play.

“Why? Because that's what you want to do? Movies don't have to be junk, you know.” He liked the way she stood up to him, and he invited her to dinner that night too, but she turned him down. “I promised I'd meet Louise with some friends.” He was dying to come along, but he didn't let on. He wondered if there was another man involved, which there was. But the boy was Louise's date. Vanessa just didn't want to look too anxious to him. But she liked him just as much as he liked her. And she thought of him all that night, as they ate spaghetti and clams on Houston Street, and it seemed hours before they came back uptown. And when they did, she noticed that his light was still on. She wondered if he was writing or just hanging out, and she made as much noise as possible clattering up the stairs and slamming their door, hoping he'd call. But he didn't call for two days. He had decided to play it cool, and when he did, she was gone for the weekend. They didn't meet again until the middle of the following week, when he saw her coming home from work one night, looking hot and tired, after an endless ride on the bus uptown.

“How've you been?” He smiled and she looked pleased. She thought that he had forgotten her.

“Pretty good. How's your play?”

“I haven't done a thing. I've been working on that damn thesis all week.” And he was going to do substitute teaching at a boy's school that fall, to make ends meet. He wasn't too excited about it, but it would leave him plenty of time to write, and that was what mattered to him most. Vanessa was impressed by how serious he was. But he was serious about a lot of things, and he was developing a serious interest in her.

And this time when he asked her out, she was free. They went to a little Italian restaurant uptown, and they drank a lot of red wine, and talked until almost one o'clock, and then took a leisurely walk home, as Vanessa glanced over her shoulder now and then, hoping they wouldn't be mugged. She wasn't used to New York yet, and it was hardly a lovely neighborhood. But Jason put a powerful arm around her, sensing her fears, and she felt safe with him. He walked her slowly upstairs, and seemed to hesitate on the second floor, but she began the next flight up, and he gently touched her arm. “Want to come in for a drink?” She had drunk enough, and she suspected what he had in mind. It was almost 2 A.M., and she was asking for it if she went to his place. She wasn't ready to make that kind of commitment yet, to anyone, not even to him, and she liked him a lot.

“Not tonight, Jason, but thanks.” He looked disappointed, as he walked her to her door, and she felt just as disappointed when she went inside. For the first time in her life, she really wanted a man. She had always had fun playing with boys before, but she wasn't like Val. She didn't need conquests, or ache with desire for anyone. There were boys that she liked, but never that much. Until now. Suddenly, she knew from the unfamiliar stirrings she felt that she wanted to sleep with him.

She tried to distract herself for the next few days. She went out with Louise and her friends. She even had lunch with her boss at Parker, and she could see that he had the hots for her but she couldn't even stand his touch on her arm. All she could think of was the tall boy with auburn hair on the second floor as she went home at night, and it was almost a relief when she ran straight into him that weekend. She was going to the Laundromat with her things. Louise had gone to Quogue again, and she was alone for a change. But she didn't tell Jason that. She didn't want to encourage him.

“How've you been, kid?” He tried to make her feel very young, and ashamed for not going to bed with him. And she did. But she didn't let on.

“Fine. How's the play?”

“Okay. It's been kind of hot to work.” She could see that he had a tan, and had probably been spending time on the roof. His parents had wanted him to come to New Hampshire for a few days, but he liked it better in New York. It was so damn dull up there, and there was an additional lure to town now. He could almost feel a throbbing pulse being in the same building with her. No one had turned him on that much in a long time, and he almost resented it. It made him curt with her now. “See you, kid.” It was obvious where she was going, and he could calculate how long she'd be gone, and when he heard a step on the stairs an hour later, he swiftly opened his door. And he had guessed right. She was carrying a bag of clean laundry upstairs and she turned to look at him as she heard his door open. “Hi. Want some lunch?”

She felt her heart pound as she met his eyes, wondering if that was all he meant, or if he meant more. “I … okay … sure …” She was afraid to turn him down again, for fear he wouldn't ask her again. It wasn't easy being young and in New York for the first time, even worse if you were a virgin and he was an older man of twenty-four. She followed him into his apartment, and dropped her bag of laundry near the door, glad that she had put her personal things near the bottom where they wouldn't fall out, and he couldn't see them now.

He made tuna sandwiches for them both, and cold lemonade, which she liked. And she was surprised at how relaxed she was, as they sat and talked and munched potato chips from the bag.

“Do you like New York?” She could feel his eyes bore into her and she had to concentrate on his words. There was something so intense happening between them, but oddly enough it didn't frighten her. She felt as though she were almost floating on a wave of his thoughts, and the air beneath them was soft and warm, and sensual. The air around them was deathly still, and there was a thunderstorm brewing that afternoon, but the only world that seemed to exist was in that room, between them.

“I like New York a lot.”

“Why?” His eyes dug deep into her soul, as though he were looking for someone, for something that she had brought with her, and she met his eyes now.

“I don't know yet. I'm just glad I'm here.”

“So am I.” His voice was soft and sensual, and she felt herself physically pulled toward him, unaware of his hands pulling her close, his hands reaching for her thighs, touching them, caressing her, kneading her flesh, and then suddenly she felt his lips on hers and his hands on her breasts, and desire exploding from beneath her legs as his fingers moved deftly there, and she was breathless as they lay back on his couch, and then suddenly she was begging him to stop. He seemed surprised, and sat up, looking down at her where she lay.

“Don't, please …” He had never raped anyone before, and he had no intention of starting now. He looked almost hurt, and didn't understand what was happening, as tears sprang to her eyes. “I don't … I've never …” And yet she wanted him, and suddenly he understood and he held her close to him, and she could feel his warmth and smell the sweetness of his flesh, it had the smell of lemon spice and she wasn't sure if it was soap or eau de cologne, but she liked the smell, and she knew she liked him, and he was looking down at her gently now, having understood everything, but it only made him want her more.

“I didn't realize …” He leaned away from her and gave her room to breathe and think. He didn't want to overpower her. Not now, not the first time. “Would you rather wait?” She was embarrassed for her honesty but slowly she shook her head. She didn't want to wait at all, and a moment later, he was carrying her to his bed, as though she were a little rag doll, and he lay her gently down, and peeled away the few clothes she wore, her shorts, the sleeveless shirt, the underpants, the bra. She felt like a little girl beneath his hands, and he slid into bed next to her, turning away after he shed his clothes, so he wouldn't frighten her. He thought of everything, and he touched her everywhere, and she lay in bed with him in ecstasy as the thunder and lightning came, and she was never quite sure if the storm were real or part of what he made her feel. But when they were spent, he lay next to her and the rain beat on the windowpane, and she smiled at him. There was blood on his sheets but he didn't seem to care, he said her name again and again, and touched her face with his hands, and her body with his lips and then he parted her legs again and let his tongue play with her until she screamed, and then he entered her again, and this time the storm was not in the sky, but only in her head as she shouted his name in ecstasy, and she felt herself drift away in his powerful arms.

CHAPTER 30

“Action!” The director screamed for the eleventh time, and Valerie had to dash across the set again with red paint streaming from her ears and down her cheeks, and from her nose. And each time she had to wash it off, in order to start again. It was the most tedious thing she had ever done, except that after this she would be a big star … she just knew it … someone would discover her … and she would end up playing a role with Richard Burton, or Gregory Peck, or Robert Redford … even Dustin Hoffman wouldn't be bad…. The director shouted “Action” for the nineteenth time and she did it again. The paint kept running into her hair and he was yelling at the makeup man that it was the wrong consistency. And when he yelled “Cut” again, Faye tiptoed off the set. Valerie had never known she was there, and Faye was embarrassed for her. It was a pathetic little role, as she told Ward that afternoon. In fact, it was worse than that, it was embarrassing.

“I wish she'd do something decent with herself like go to school.”

“Maybe she'll make something of herself, Faye. You did.”

“That was almost thirty years ago for God's sake. Times have changed. She can't even act.”

“How can you tell in a role like that?” He was trying to be fair, and he thought Faye was being unduly harsh.

“Let's put it this way, she doesn't even walk across a stage well.”

“Would you, with paint pellets shoved up your nose, and into your ears? Personally, I think she's a hell of a good sport.”

“I think she's a damn fool.”

But she got another role like the first, as soon as she completed that, and she was thrilled although Faye was worried about it. She tried to ask her tactfully if she was happy doing films like that, but Valerie took it as a slur and there had been pure hatred in Val's eyes when she had answered her.

“You started with soap flakes and cereal, I'm starting with blood, but basically it's the same. And one day, if I want to, I can be right where you are.” It was an ambitious goal, and as he watched the two women spar, Ward was sorry for Val. She so desperately wanted to compete with Faye that she forgot to be herself sometimes. Unlike Anne, who seemed to have come into her own finally, in the last few months. She seemed quieter, more mature, and she seemed to love her new school. She had a new friend, whom she spent time with constantly, a child whose mother had died a few years before apparently, and the two girls went everywhere as a team. The father doted on his child, and seemed willing to chauffeur them everywhere, take them to every possible kind of show and game, drop them off, pick them up. It was a blessing for Ward and Faye. Since the last Academy Award, they had had no free time at all. They were grateful to Bill Stein for taking such good care of Anne. Ward knew vaguely who he was, their paths had crossed once or twice, but in a strictly friendly way. He seemed like a nice man, and if he spoiled his child, it was understandable, she was the only one he had, and he had no wife. He had no one else to spoil, except now Anne, and of course Gail.

He was always giving Anne nice things, a sweater when he bought one for Gail, a little red Gucci bag, a yellow umbrella from Giorgio's on a day when it was pouring rain, and he wanted nothing in return from her. He just had a sense of how lonely she was, and how little time Faye and Ward spent with her. It made him happy to do little things for her, just as he did for Gail.

“You're always so nice to me, Bill.” He let her call him that, in fact he wanted her to, he had said so several times, and she finally did, still feeling a little shy with him.

“Why shouldn't I be? You're a nice person, Anne. We enjoy your company.”

“I love you both too.” The words had poured out of her starved little soul, and his heart went out to her at times. He suspected that there was a sorrow there that no one knew, and he didn't know what it was, but it never left her eyes, no matter how much love you lavished on her. He knew she had run away to the Haight almost two years before, and he wondered if it was something that had happened there. He asked Gail about it once, but she didn't seem to know.

“She never talks about it, Dad. I don't know … I don't think her parents are real nice to her.”

“I suspected that too.” He had always been honest with Gail.

“It's not that they're mean to her or anything. They're just never there. No one is. Her brothers and sisters are all grown up and gone, and she's always alone there with the maid.” Most nights she even ate dinner alone, and she was used to it by now.

“Well, she doesn't have to be anymore.” The Steins took her under their wing, and Anne basked in the warmth of the love they gave. She was like a little flower in full bloom, and Bill loved to watch her play with Gail. They did homework together sometimes, or just sat and talked, and sometimes they dove into the pool, and giggled for hours at some private joke. He loved to buy them both pretty things, and make them smile. Life was short, he had learned that when his wife died, and he was thinking of her one day, as he sat by the pool with Anne. It was a warm autumn day, and Gail had just gone inside to get them something to eat.

“You look so serious sometimes, Anne.” She was comfortable with him now, and she didn't look frightened at what he said, although she had sometimes at first, although she was afraid he would ask her something she didn't want to tell anyone. “What do you think about then?”

“Different things …” My brother's friend who died … the baby I gave up … already at fifteen, there were ghosts that haunted her, but she didn't tell him any of that.

“Your days in the Haight?” He had wondered about that and she didn't run away from him. Her eyes met his, and he saw something there that broke his heart. There was a pain in her which no one could reach, and he hoped he would one day. She was like another daughter to him, and he was surprised at how much she had come to mean to them in a few months. They were deeply attached to her, and she to them. Other than Lionel and John, they were the first people who had ever taken care of her, or given a damn, or so she thought.

“Sort of …” And then, she surprised herself, by opening up more than she'd planned to him. “I gave up something once that I cared about very much … sometimes I think of it, even though it doesn't change anything.” There were tears in her eyes and he reached out and touched her hand, with tears in his own.

“I didn't give up something, but I lost someone I loved very much. Maybe that's a little bit the same thing. A kind of loss. Maybe it's even worse if you give it up willingly.” He thought she was referring to someone she had loved, and wondered how someone so young could have cared so much. It never crossed his mind that she had given up a child. She and Gail still seemed so innocent to him, and he cherished that. But her eyes reached out to him now with wisdom far beyond her years.

“It must have been terrible for you when she died.”

“It was.” It surprised him that he could say the words so easily to her. But she seemed so understanding as they sat holding hands by the pool, like old friends. “It was the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“That's like what happened to me.” She had a sudden urge to tell him about the baby she'd given up, but she was afraid he would never let Gail near her again. There were things better left unsaid, and she stopped herself now.

“Was it terrible, sweetheart?”

“Worse than that.” And every day she wondered where he was, if she had done the right thing. Maybe he was sick, or he had died, or the drugs she had taken had affected him after all, although there was no sign of it at the birth, they said…. Her eyes met Bill's now, and he looked so sadly at her.

“I'm so sorry, Anne.” He held her hand tight, and she felt warm and safe, and in a little while Gail came out with lunch for all three of them. She thought Anne slightly subdued, but she got that way sometimes. It was just the way she was, and she didn't see anything different in her father's eyes that day. But he seemed to watch Anne a lot after that, Anne noticed it sometimes, as he sat looking at her, and one day when they were alone, waiting for Gail to come back from a friend's, she got a chance to talk to him again. She had arrived a little bit before the time she had arranged with Gail, and Bill had just come out of the shower and was wearing a robe. He told her to make herself at home, and she stretched out in the den with a magazine, but then she saw him watching her, and she put the magazine down and felt everything she had held back for so long. Without saying a word, she stood up and walked to him. He took her in his arms, and kissed her hard, and then he forced himself to pull away from her. “Oh God, Anne, I'm so sorry … I don't know what …” But she silenced him as she kissed him again, and he was stunned. He knew instinctively that she was no novice at this, and as her hands sought him beneath the robe, he knew that there were secrets about Anne that no one knew. He gently took her hands away and kissed her fingertips. His body was straining for her, and she had stroked him so enticingly, he felt half mad, but not so crazed that he would let her get hurt or do something insane. She was just a child, in his eyes. And he knew this was wrong. She was a fifteen-year-old girl, almost sixteen, but still … “We have to talk about this.” He sat down on the couch next to her, turned toward her, pulling the robe tight, and looked into her eyes. “I don't know what happened to me.”

“I do.” She spoke the words so gently that he thought he had dreamed what she said. “I'm in love with you, Bill.” It was the truth, she was, and he was in love with her. It was madness for them. He was forty-nine years old and she was fifteen. It was wrong … wasn't it? He had to remind himself of that as he looked at her, and he couldn't help himself. He kissed her again. He felt tortured by the waves of passion that he felt and he took her hand in his.

“I love you too, but I won't let this happen to us.” He sounded anguished as he spoke, and there were tears in Anne's eyes. She was terrified he would send her away. Maybe even for good. And she couldn't have lived through that. She had already lost too much in her life.

“Why not? What's wrong with it? It happens to other people too.”

“But not at your age and mine.” They were thirty-three years apart, and she wasn't even of age. Maybe if she had been twenty-two and he fifty-five and not the father of her best friend, but Anne was shaking her head frantically. She wouldn't lose him now. She refused. She had already lost too much in her short life, and she wouldn't lose him too, no matter what he said.

“That's not true. It happens to other people just like us.”

He smiled at her. She was so earnest and so sweet, and he loved her so much. He realized that now. “I wouldn't care if you were a hundred years old. I love you. That's all. I won't give you up.” The melodrama of it made him smile again, and he kissed her lips to silence her. They were so sweet, and her skin in his hands was like velvet to the touch. But this was wrong. Technically, it was statutory rape, even with her consent. He knew that, and he looked at her now.

“Have you ever done this before, Anne? Honestly. I won't be angry at you.” He had a gentle way of bringing out the truth, and it was always easy for her to be honest with him.

She knew what he meant, more or less. And they were both grateful Gail was late. “Not like this. When I was … in the Haight …” It would be so difficult to explain to him, but she wanted to now. “I …” She sighed horribly and he was sorry he had asked.

“You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Anne.”

“I want you to know.” She tried to make it brief and clinical, but it still sounded terrible to her. “I lived in a commune, and I took LSD. I took other things too, but mostly that, some peyote … a lot of dope, but mostly acid. And the group I lived with had strange practices….”

He looked horrified. “You were raped?”

Slowly, she shook her head, her eyes never leaving his, she had to be honest with him at all costs. “I did it because I wanted to … and I did it with all of them, I think. I don't remember much anymore. It was like being in a trance and I don't know what's memory and what's dream … but I was five months pregnant when my parents brought me back. I had a baby thirteen months ago.” She knew now that she would remember the date for the rest of her life. She could have told Bill how many days past thirteen months. Five to be exact. “And my parents made me give him up. It was a boy, but I never saw him. It was the worst thing I ever went through.” There was no way to describe to him what she had been through. “And giving him up was the worst mistake I ever made in my life. I'll never forgive myself. Every day, I ask myself where he is, if he's all right.”

“It would have ruined your life, sweetheart.” Gently, with one hand he stroked her face, so desperately sorry for her and the pain she had been through. She was so different from Gail. She had seen so much of life. Too much, at her age.

“That's what my parents said,” she sighed. “I don't think they were right.”

“What would you do with a baby now?”

“Take care of him … just like his other mother does….” Her eyes filled with tears and he held her close. “I should never have given him up.” He wanted to tell her he'd give her another baby one day, but it seemed an outrageous thing to say, and then they heard Gail's key in the lock. Bill moved quietly away from her, with a last look, a last touch, an ache of desire, as he pulled his robe close, and they both smiled for Gail.

And for the next two months, Anne met him whenever she could, just to talk to him, to go for walks, to share her thoughts with him. Gail knew nothing of it, and Anne hoped she never would. It was forbidden fruit for both of them, and yet they couldn't stop. They needed each other too much now. He confided in her too. The relationship was chaste, but they couldn't hold out for much longer, and when Gail's grandmother invited her for the Christmas holidays, they made a plan. Anne would tell her parents that she was going to stay with them. And from Christmas Day until Gail returned, Anne would stay with him. It was thought out ahead of time and planned. Almost like a honeymoon.

CHAPTER 31

Louise had long since figured out what was going on between her roommate and the man on the second floor. She didn't disapprove, although she thought he was too old for Van. Twenty-four was already a man. And she was sorry she didn't see more of Vanessa now, but she had her own friends too, and Barnard kept them more than busy enough with assignments and projects and homework and exams. The months flew by and it was hard to believe that Christmas vacation had already rolled around. The weather was cold and crisp, and just after Thanksgiving, they had had their first snow.

Vanessa was enchanted with it and she and Jason had thrown snowballs at each other in Riverside Park. There was always so much for them to do, the Cloisters, the Metropolitan, the Guggenheim, the Museum of Modern Art, the opera, the ballet, concerts at Carnegie Hall, and always the lure of Off Broadway for him. Jason led a full cultural life, and now he always took Vanessa along. She hadn't seen a movie with him since she'd arrived, except some old ones at a festival at the Museum of Modern Art. He continued to disapprove of all that, and he worked on his thesis while she studied for exams. Somehow she loved his seriousness, and his purism about his philosophies. To her, it made him not rigid, but more lovable.

'I'm going to miss you a lot over the holidays.” She was lying on his couch with a book on her lap, as she looked at him. He looked terribly serious with his glasses on, and he peered over them with a smile.

“It'll probably be a relief to get back to Plastic Land,” which was what he called L.A., “you can go to the movies with your friends every day, and eat tacos and french fries,” he had a horror of those things too, “before you have to come back here again.” She laughed at his visions of Los Angeles. According to him, people were running everywhere, with hamburgers and tacos and pizzas in their hands, wearing curlers in their hair, dancing to rock, and going to trashy films. It made her laugh even more to think of what he would have thought of Val. She was making another horror film, and in this one she was covered in green slime, hardly his idea of what fine cinema should be. But it would be fun to see them all again too. Sometimes she thought Jason took himself too seriously, but she was enjoying their affair, and she had told the truth. She would miss him over the holidays.

“What are you going to do?” He still hadn't decided the last time they'd talked about it. She thought he should go home, but he didn't seem keen on the idea. She noticed that his parents never called, and that he rarely mentioned them. She didn't call home that often either, but she still considered herself close to all of them. But as Vanessa looked up, she saw Jason smiling at her. There was a tender side of him that she really loved and she could see it now. She reached out a hand to where he sat at his desk, and he kissed it and smiled.

“I'm going to miss you too, you know. And it'll probably take me weeks to straighten you out again.”

“One of these days, you'll have to come to California with me.” But neither of them was ready for that. Her family sounded terrifying to him, and the prospect of bringing him home frightened her too. That would mean that it was serious, or so her parents would think, and it was not. It was just a lovely first affair. She expected nothing more of it than that or so she told herself. “I'll call you, Jase.”

She repeated exactly the same words to him as they stood at the airport on December 23. He had decided not to go home, but to work on his thesis instead, which sounded like a lonely way to spend the holidays to her. But he said he'd be fine, and she promised to call every day. He kissed her long and hard before she boarded the plane, and then she was gone in the huge silver bird in the air, and he dug his hands into his pockets, and wrapped his scarf around his neck, and went back out into the cold air. It was snowing again. And it frightened him to realize how much he had fallen in love with her. He had wanted it to be a casual affair, even the convenience of living in the same building appealed to him. And that had nothing to do with it now. He liked everything about her, she was serious, intelligent, beautiful, kind, and wonderful in bed, and his apartment seemed like a tomb as he unlocked the door, and sat down at his desk and stared. Maybe he should have gone home after all. But it was so depressing for him. Life in their small town was so limited, and his parents always smothered him, he couldn't stand it anymore. As much as he loved them, he wanted to be free. And his father drank too much. His mother had gotten so old, he knew it would depress the hell out of him, and he was happier in New York alone. It had been almost impossible to explain to Vanessa before she left, her family was so different from his. She had actually been happy to go back. And he could hear it in her voice when she called him that night. She called almost as soon as she got off the plane.

“Well, how's Plastic Land?” He tried to sound less glum than he was and she laughed.

“Still the same. Except you're not here, and that's what's wrong with it.” She loved L.A., but now she had come to love New York too. Because of him. “Next time you have to come out.” He almost shuddered at the thought. He couldn't face a family like that, high-powered, shiny, totally involved in the movie world. He could imagine Faye cooking breakfast in gold lame high heels, and the image of it made him laugh as he talked to Van.

“How's your twin?”

“I haven't seen her yet. I thought I'd drop by tonight. It's only eight o'clock here.”

“That's because they don't know how to tell time,” he teased, and his face looked youthful and sad as he did. He missed her so much. The next two weeks were going to be unbearable. “Give her my best.” They had talked to each other on the phone several times, and she sounded like fun, although totally different from Van.

“I will.”

“Let me know if she's turned green.” She had told him about the movie in green slime, and he had teased her about it mercilessly, telling her that that was typical Hollywood and probably the best they could do. Except Vanessa had taken umbrage at that. Her mother had made some beautiful films in her life, and one day they'd probably be in the archives of the Museum of Modern Art too. She was still eighteen, and they were her family, and he went easy on it after that. But he would have been horrified, Vanessa thought, if he could have seen the place where Val lived.

She had borrowed her father's car and driven to the place Val shared with at least a dozen other girls. And Vanessa thought she'd never seen such chaos and filth in her entire life. There was stale food left on plates in the living room from God knew when, and unmade beds in every room, some even without sheets, an empty tequila bottle lay on the floor, there were stockings hung in the bathrooms in all shapes and hues, and everywhere hung the rancid smell of too many perfumes. And in the midst of it all sat Val, happily doing her nails and telling Vanessa about her part in the film.

“And then I come out of this swamp … I hold out my arms like this” she did so, almost knocking over a lamp, “and I scream …” She demonstrated that too, and Vanessa covered her ears. It seemed to go on for hours, and she was actually impressed, as she grinned at her twin. It was good to see her again, even here.

“You've developed quite a range with that in the last few months.”

Val laughed. “I get plenty of practice every day.”

Vanessa looked around again. “How do you stand this place?” Between the smell, the filth, the disorder, and the girls, Vanessa knew she would have gone mad in two days, but Valerie seemed oblivious to it all, in fact she seemed happy there, happier than she had been at home by far, and she said as much to her twin.

“I can do whatever I want here.”

“And what does that include?” Vanessa was curious about what she'd been up to in the last three months. Val knew about Jason, although Vanessa hadn't gone into details about her affair, and she didn't intend to now. “Any big new heart throbs since I left?”

Valerie shrugged. There were a number of men in her life, one she cared about, and three she was sleeping with, but she knew her sister would be shocked so she didn't say anything. It didn't mean that much to her. A little dope, a little booze, a terrific piece of ass in some boy's apartment or rented room. There was so much going on in Hollywood that it didn't seem so terrible to be a part of it, and all of them in her apartment passed the pill around like after-dinner mints. There was always an open box somewhere in the house, and someone had told her not to mix brands, but they seemed to work anyway. And if there was a slip, she could always get rid of it. She wasn't as dumb as her little sister, Anne. “What about you?” Valerie turned the tables on her, as she started on the nails on the other hand. “What's that guy like you're with all the time?”

“Jason?” Vanessa feigned innocence and Val laughed.

“No. King Kong. Is he cute?”

“By my standards yes, but probably not by yours.”

“That means he has a harelip and a club foot, but he's cute and you think he's serious.”

“More or less. He's working on his Ph.D.” Vanessa sounded proud of him and Valerie stared at her. He sounded horrible to her. She hated intellectuals, she liked all the Hollywood types, especially long hair, open shirts, the California beach-boy look.

She looked at Vanessa suspiciously. “How old is this guy?”

“Twenty-four.”

“You think he wants to marry you?” That horrified her, but Vanessa was quick to shake her head.

“He's not that type and neither am 1.1 want to finish school, and come back here to write screenplays.” She and Jason argued about that all the time. He thought she had too much talent to write “junk,” but she insisted that some films were very good. “It's just nice for now.”

“Well, watch out you don't get knocked up. Do you take the pill?” Vanessa was embarrassed by the directness of her twin, and shook her head. She hadn't even admitted that she was sleeping with him, but Val knew her better than anyone. “You're not?” Valerie was appalled at her naïveté.

“Jason takes care of it.” She blushed beet red and Valerie laughed as a girl in a red satin G-string walked through the room. And with that, she glanced at Val again. “Has Mom seen this place?” She couldn't imagine that she had, or she would have had Valerie out of it in two hours, or possibly less.

“Just once. And we cleaned it up pretty good before she came. No one was here that day.”

“Thank God. She'd have your head for this, my friend.” But that would have applied to just about anything Val was doing these days, from the little snorts of cocaine, to the pipes filled with hashish, to the men she was experimenting with to the roles she played in horror films. As she said to Van bitterly, “She never wants me to have any fun.” And someone had just offered her her first porno role but she had turned it down. She had been terrified her mother would hear of it. But as Vanessa drove back to the house, she had the feeling that Valerie was going bad. She was way out of control, and she was just eighteen. But she knew her well enough to know that there was no stopping her. She was rolling wildly down a hill, and it would all end somewhere. Vanessa just hoped she didn't get hurt on the way.

“How was Val?” Her father glanced at her as she came in, and read something in her eyes that she wouldn't have said to him.

“Okay.”

And then, “Just how bad is that place?” They couldn't have known how bad it really was. But she wondered if they knew other things. Hollywood was a small town, and if she was sleeping around, they were liable to hear of it.

“It's not that bad. Just a lot of girls running around making a mess, and leaving dirty dishes on the floor.” That was the least of it, but it was all she felt safe telling him. She tried to make it sound better than it was, for Valerie's sake. “Just a magnified version of our rooms.”

“As bad as that?” He laughed, and reported that Greg was coming home the next day. And a little while later, Anne came in with a glow in her eyes that Vanessa had never seen before.

“Hi, kiddo.” She stood up and kissed her cheek, and she could have sworn that she smelled a man's after-shave in her hair, but she wasn't sure. Little Anne was growing up. She was about to turn sixteen after the holidays, and Vanessa noticed that she was growing beautiful. Her dress was short, and her legs were long and slim, and she was wearing beautiful little red shoes and a ribbon in her hair. Vanessa smiled at the image that had developed in three short months. She looked as old as Vanessa herself. “When did you get so grown-up?” Ward glanced at her admiringly too. She had settled down beautifully in the last few months, and she had made new friends in her new school. Especially Gail Stein, who seemed like an awfully nice girl, even if she was a little spoiled. So what if she wore Vuitton bags and Jourdan shoes, she was a nice, decent, wholesome girl, and her father took good care of her. It was a pleasant change from the agony of what had happened in the Haight, and he and Faye were both grateful for that.

Anne didn't waste much time with them and disappeared quickly into her room. And she did the same thing on Christmas Day, after they ate, but they were all used to it. Anne had been hiding in her room for years, but tonight she was packing a bag. The next day she was moving in with Bill for the holidays.

CHAPTER 32

Anne had explained to her mother weeks before that Gail had invited her to spend ten days with them until they went back to school, and at first Faye had balked. But Anne had preyed cunningly on her maternal sympathies, reminding her that Gail was an only child, without even a mother to keep her company. And since her mother's death, the holidays were hard for her. That had done the trick with Faye, eventually.

“She only lives a few miles from here, Anne. Why can't you both stay here? Why do you have to sleep over at her house?”

“It's too confusing here. And you and Dad are out all the time anyway. What difference does it make?” There had been panic in her eyes and Ward saw it too. He didn't want her going wild on them again. They'd all been through enough two years before. Maybe it was better to give in to her on small things like this.

“Let her go, babe. There's no harm in it. Gail's father seems to sit on her like an egg about to hatch. They'll be fine. And she can always come home, if you want.”

“Will anyone else be there?” Faye never trusted anyone, not where her children were involved, and this time she was right.

“Just the cleaning lady and the cook.” He also had a gardener but that didn't count, she knew. And in fact, none of them did. Both women were leaving for the holidays as soon as he put Gail on a plane to her grandmother's in New York. But Faye had no way of knowing that. And when Anne left the house with her small valise, it was filled with her prettiest clothes, and her frilliest nightgowns, including two new ones she had bought just for this. She called a cab after everyone left the house, and left a note, “See you on the 3rd. Ill be at Gail's.” The cab pulled up on Charing Cross Road in Bel-Air ten minutes later, as Anne felt her heart pound. He was waiting for her in the living room. Gail had left only hours before, the maids were gone. They were finally alone. They had planned it for months, and now suddenly they were both terrified. All morning, he had asked himself if he was insane. He was practically raping a fifteen-year-old girl, and he had long since resolved to take her home as soon as she arrived.

He tried to explain it as they sat in his cozy den. There was a tiger skin on the floor, and photographs he had taken of Gail over the years hung on the walls, Gail in first grade … Gail in a funny hat … Gail eating an ice-cream cone when she was four … but his eyes were riveted to Anne's now, and they saw nothing in the room. She only saw him, this man she so deeply loved, who wanted to send her away now.

“Why do I have to go? … Why? We planned it for weeks.”

“But it's wrong, Anne. I'm an old man. You're a fifteen-year-old girl.” He had thought about it all night as he tossed and turned, and he had finally come to his senses. He wasn't going to let her change his mind now.

“I'm almost sixteen.” There were tears in her eyes, and he smiled as he smoothed her hair back from her face. But just that small touch electrified him again. This was forbidden fruit of the sweetest kind, and he wouldn't let her stay even an hour, or he couldn't be responsible for what he would do. He knew himself too well, and he had never felt this way for anyone. It was just one of life's cruel jokes that she was a fifteen-year-old girl. “I'm not even a virgin, Bill.” She said it sadly with heartbroken eyes. She loved him so much; he was all she wanted in life. He was the reward for all the loneliness and pain she had had.

“That's beside the point, sweetheart. Your other experiences don't count. They were drug-induced, hallucinating dreams. You don't even have to think about them anymore. That's all behind you now. It's not like making a decision to become involved with a man. This is something neither of us could handle for very long. And then what do we do? Someone would get hurt, and I don't want it to be you.” He didn't tell her that it could also be him, that he could wind up in jail for sleeping with her, if her parents found out. And they might, no matter how carefully they had planned. She had told Gail not to call her at home, that she couldn't talk anyway, with all her brothers and sisters around for the holidays. And she was going to call Gail herself every day, so that she wouldn't have a reason to call. They had thought of everything, and he was breaking her heart now. She didn't care if she got hurt, she didn't care if she died, as long as she could be with him.

She looked at him with deep, sad eyes. “If you make me go, I'll run away again. You're all I have to live for, Bill.”

It was a terrible thing to say and it tore at his heart. She had been through so much and she was so young, and in some ways she was right, she was far more mature than most girls her age, certainly more than Gail; but she had also been exposed to more. The Haight-Ashbury, the commune, the baby she had given birth to, her difficulties with her parents. It seemed unfair to hurt her again, but this was for her own good, he told himself as he stood up, her hand gently held in his. He was going to drive her home himself, but she wouldn't move. She just sat looking up at him, with that broken look, those heartrending eyes. “Baby, please … you can't stay …”

“Why not?”

He sank down on the couch next to her. He could only fight her for so long, and if she didn't go soon … it wasn't fair to him … he was only a man after all. “Because I love you too much.” He took her gently in his arms, and kissed her, with every intention of taking her home after that. But his iron resolve began to melt as he felt the hot molten lava of her tongue reaching into his mouth, and instinctively his hand went between her legs. They had been getting bolder and bolder for weeks now, each time they were alone. “I want you so much, little one …” he whispered hoarsely into her neck, “… but we can't … please …”

“Yes, we can,” she whispered back. She was melting into the couch, pulling him down with her, and all his arguments began to drift away … maybe just this once … just once … they would never do it again … and then suddenly he came to his senses, and pulled away from her. His legs were shaking when he did, but he shook his head and stopped.

“No. I won't do this to you, Anne.”

“I love you with all my heart.” She looked like a stricken child.

“And so do I. I'll wait for the next two years for you, if that's what we have to do. And then I'll marry you. But I will not ruin your life.”

Suddenly she laughed, and it was the laugh of a very young girl as she kissed his cheek. “I love you so much. Do you mean you'd really marry me?” She was stunned and delighted and pleased and happier than she'd been in a long time.

“I would.” He smiled gently at her. It had been a difficult hour for him, for both of them, but more so for him, and he hadn't slept all night. But he meant what he said to her now. He had thought of it before. He even thought that Gail might approve of it one day. Other men had married girls less than half their age. It wasn't the worst thing he could do. “If you were crazy enough to marry me, that is. In two years, you'll be eighteen and I';ll be fifty-one.”

“Sounds great to me,” she grinned.

“How about when you're thirty and I'm sixty-three?” He was testing her now and watching her eyes. He was serious about proposing to her. He could think of nothing else in life he wanted more, but there was no reason why they couldn't have both, his happiness and hers. He wanted to take care of her, to keep her from sorrow for the rest of her life. He sensed that her parents had done precious little for her since the day she was born, certainly less than he did for Gail. But Gail was an only child, and Anne was the last of five, and from what he had heard, she had been born into their lives at a difficult time. Still that was no excuse. And he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her. Everything. Even the baby she had given up.

“That sounds fine to me.” She was responding to his second question about the difference in their ages, and she looked genuinely unimpressed. “I can count too, you know. And when I'm sixty, you'll be ninety-three. How does that sound to you? You sure you won't want someone younger by then?” She was teasing him now and they both laughed as he began to relax. It had been a nightmarish morning, filled with terror and guilt, but this was more like the easy moments he had known with her before, although he had never proposed to her.

“Shall we call it definite then? We're engaged?” He smiled at her and she smiled back at him, and then leaned forward to kiss him again.

“We're engaged, and I love you with all my heart.” He kissed her so tenderly in answer to what she said that their bodies seemed to become almost one, and he had to remind himself to pull away again, but he didn't really want to anymore … and if he was going to marry her one day … wouldn't it be all right now … just this once? … to seal their vow, as it were. He sat back, looking into her eyes, knowing he couldn't think straight anymore.

“You make me crazy, you know.”

“I'm glad.” She looked like a woman as she said the words, and her eyes bore deep into his. “Can I stay for a while?”

There was no harm in that. They had done that before, when Gail had other plans and the maids were off on the weekends. The only difference was that then they knew everyone was eventually coming back, and now they were totally alone. He offered to heat the pool so they could swim, and she thought it a fine idea. She didn't bother with a bathing suit, and dove neatly in from the diving board, as he watched the smooth velvet of her flesh stretched over her long, graceful limbs. She was a beautiful girl, although no one in her family seemed to have noticed it yet. She was just “little Anne,” the quiet one who hid in her room. But she wasn't hiding now, as he shed his clothes and dove in after her, and they swam like porpoises beneath the surface of the pool, and then leapt high, catching each other by the waist, and slowly he brought her to him. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted her too much. Their bodies met and held as he caressed her back and neck and kissed her tenderly as he led her from the pool, wrapped her in a towel, and then carried her inside the house. There was nothing left to say. He couldn't fight it anymore, and she looked like a delicate princess as he lay her on his bed, and smiled down at her, his own body still firm, his muscles hard, his legs strong. They would have beautiful children together one day, he thought to himself, but he wasn't thinking of babies now. He was thinking only of her, as he touched every inch of her, caressing and kissing and letting his tongue dance over her, and from some distant part of her, she remembered a kind of loving she had never really known before, and she gently caressed him until he could bear it no more and their bodies joined as one. Her whole body arched with pleasure at his touch, and they seemed to dance there together for hours, sailing high into the sky, until at last they exploded like the sun.

CHAPTER 33

Their days together were the most idyllic either had ever known. There were no drugs this time, no hallucinogens, no rituals, no make-believe, only Bill and the tenderness and beauty he brought to her life, and the joy she brought to his. For ten days they allowed themselves to forget how difficult it would be for the next two years. They stayed within the confines of his house and grounds, but they ran and they played, they listened to music, and he gave her a glass of champagne, only one, on what he called their wedding night. They took long baths in his tub, and he read to her, and at night in front of the fire he combed her hair, and he loved her in ways she had never been loved before. It was the kind of fatherly love he had always had for Gail, enhanced now by the love he had once had for his wife and yet had no one to share with for several years. He poured his soul out to Anne, and she gave hers to him. And she was happier than she had ever been in her life. She cried on their last night. She had dutifully called Gail every day, who reported that she was having fun in New York. But Anne had never bothered to call home. They knew she was all right, and they knew where she was. They had no idea what she was up to, but that was her secret now, and they would have to live with it for the next two years.

“What if Gail ever found out?” she asked as they lay in bed. She had hardly worn clothes for the past ten days, they made love all the time, and he seemed unable to get enough of her. He had made love more in ten days than he had in the past ten years. He sighed now, thinking of what she had asked.

“I don't know. At first, I think she'd be shocked, but I think she'll accept it in time. I think the best thing is if she doesn't find out for a year or so, she'll be older then and more mature, and better able to accept what we feel.” Anne nodded, agreeing with him. She agreed with him about almost everything. “I think the most important thing is that she know eventually that our love can be shared with her too, that it won't shut her out. I love her just as I once did. But I also love you now. I have a right to get married again one day, after all … it just may surprise her a little when it's one of her friends.” Anne suddenly envisioned herself in a white veil with Gail as the maid of honor, and she smiled to herself. It was a lovely dream, but it was still a long, long way off. A lot could happen in two years.

She knew that better than anyone. She had told him about Lionel and John, about their being gay, and taking her in until the baby was born, and how nice they had been … and John dying in the fire, and how heartbroken Li still was. It had been a year and he still wasn't the same. He lived alone, and except for work, he never went out. He took her to lunch now and then, but he was so quiet it frightened her. Bill understood what she described. He had felt that way when his wife died, but he had had Gail of course to cheer him up. He began to feel he knew everything about Anne now, all her secrets, her fears, the way she felt about Faye, she was convinced that her parents had never loved her at all, and it saddened him for her. “We're going to have to be very careful, little one. Not just with Gail. But with everyone.”

“I know that. I've kept secrets before.” She looked mysterious and he laughed and kissed the tip of her breast, which hardened instantly.

“Not like this, I hope.”

“No,” she smiled, and a few minutes later, they made love again. He didn't even feel guilty about it anymore. This was what was, and it was his, and he wouldn't lose it now. He would never give her up. He would stand by her for the rest of their life together and he promised that as he took her home the following afternoon. They both looked tired, they had stayed up all night to make love and talk, and he had to pick Gail up at the airport in two hours, and that night, the maids would be back. The fairy-tale honeymoon was over now, now they had to walk carefully, hand in hand, and into what their life would be like for the next two years. But there would be moments like this again. Vacations they could go on, stolen weekends, a night here and there. He had promised her that, and her eyes were still alight with his love as she walked in her front door, carrying her suitcase in one hand. She stopped, listening, as she heard the Rolls-Royce purr as it drove off.

“You sure look tired.” Her mother glanced at her as she came in. They hadn't filmed that day. It was a Sunday afternoon and she looked at Anne's eyes. She looked happy enough though. “Have a good time, sweetheart?”

“Mm hmm … “

“It was probably one long pajama party for ten days.” Ward smiled. “I don't know what it is about girls your age, they never want to get dressed.” She smiled and disappeared into her room without saying anything, but as Vanessa glanced at her she saw something more than her parents did, and she wasn't sure what it was. It made her uneasy about the girl, and she wanted to talk to her before she left. But there was never time. Anne went back to school the next day. There were some friends Vanessa still wanted to see, and the next night she had to pack, and then she was gone, without ever finding out what had lit Anne's eyes up like that.

CHAPTER 34

Everyone went back to their own lives, Val to her life with her horror films, a smattering of drugs, a new man in her bed whenever possible, and Vanessa back at school in New York. Greg was having trouble with his grades, but promising to pick up, and Anne didn't seem to give anyone any trouble. She spent most of her time at her friend's, but everyone was used to it by now. They never saw her anymore. She had turned sixteen, and barely had a night to spare for her family to celebrate it. Gail and her father had taken her to the Bistro for a celebration with them the next day, but Faye didn't see anything wrong with it. They were awfully nice to her, and she reminded Anne to buy a gift for Gail now and then, just to show that she appreciated it.

And in February, Lionel called Faye at the studio and asked if he could have lunch with her and Ward. It was unusual for him to do something like that, and she hoped it meant good news in his life, like an exciting film or even a job change, or an announcement that he was going back to school. But neither of them were prepared for what he announced to them instead.

He seemed to hesitate, as though afraid to cause them pain, and Ward suddenly felt sick. Maybe he was going to tell them that he was in love with another man, and he didn't want to hear about it. But Lionel dove in quickly, there was no way to ease the words. “I've been drafted.” They both stared. This was no time for that. Vietnam was in full swing and it was on everyone's mind. Ward looked horrified. As much as he loved his country, he didn't want to sacrifice either of his sons for a war which stank, in a place he didn't give a damn about, and Faye's jaw almost dropped at the first thing he said.

“Tell them you're gay.” It was the first time he had used the word and Lionel smiled and shook his head.

“Dad, I can't.”

“Don't be shy for chrissake. It may save your life.” This was exactly why he had told Greg to pull up his grades. All he needed was to get kicked out of school and sent to Vietnam. But Lionel had the perfect excuse. He hadn't really worried about him. “Be sensible, boy. Either that or go to Canada.”

“I don't want to run away, Dad. It just wouldn't be right.”

“Why not for chrissake?” He pounded the table in the commissary but no one looked. There was so much action and noise that no one noticed anyone, no matter what they wore or did or said. You could have walked in naked, screaming at the top of your lungs, and everyone would have figured you were practicing for a part. But Ward was serious with him now. “You have to get out of it, Li. I don't want you to go.”

There were tears in her eyes, as Faye listened to the two men. “Neither do I, sweetheart.”

“I know, Mom.” He gently touched her hand. “I'm not happy about it either, but I don't feel like I have a choice. I talked to them yesterday, and I think they know what I am, they also know my film background, and they'd want me to do something with film.” Ward and Faye both looked relieved.

“Do you know where?”

He took a breath. “Probably in Vietnam for a year, and maybe in Europe for a year after that.”

“Oh my God.” Ward's face went white and Faye started to cry, and it was a dismal two weeks while Lionel wrapped up the details of his life, gave up the small apartment he had, left his job, and moved in with Faye and Ward for a few days before he left for boot camp. They were grateful to have the time with him and they both left work early every day. But the last night was rough. Everyone cried as they toasted him. And they all stood in the doorway and waved the next day at 6 A.M. as the cab drove away, and Faye collapsed in Ward's arms and sobbed. She was afraid she would never see him again, and as he held her, Ward cried just as hard. It was a heartbreaking time for all of them, and as she and Bill went for a long, long walk, Anne voiced to Bill what her parents were afraid to say, that he had never recovered from John's death and maybe he had gone to Vietnam to let himself be killed. It was a sobering thought.

“I'm sure that's not true, sweetheart. He's just doing what he thinks he has to do. I went to war once too, you know. Not everyone gets killed. And if he's working in film, I'm sure he'll be pretty safe.” It wasn't entirely true. He knew that those boys often got hit, riding low in helicopters to get the best shots. He just prayed that her brother would be sensible, and that her assessment of his psychological state was wrong. But Ward and Faye were secretly afraid of it too.

Only Val seemed certain that he'd be fine. She was so involved in her own life, it was difficult for her to think of much else. She had just gotten a part in a monster movie being made outside Rome. It was an international cast and the whole thing was being dubbed, but she had no lines in it anyway. There were a number of old stars in it, all of them failing badly and long since out of work.

“Isn't that great?” She had called Vanessa to tell her she'd be coming through New York. Only for one night, but it would be fun anyway. Vanessa had invited her to stay to meet her “friend.”

Valerie hurtled off the plane wearing a red leather skirt and purple tights, a purple fur, and suede boots that looked like neon signs. The sweater she had on was cut almost to her waist, and her hair was still the same wild mane. Suddenly as Vanessa glanced up at Jason in his subdued forest greens and charcoal grays, she coughed and wondered what she had done.

“My God, is she for real?” he whispered to Van, but her beauty was undeniable, no matter how ridiculous her clothes were, and Vanessa grinned.

“Plastic Land at its best.”

She threw herself into Vanessa's arms, kissed Jason a little too lovingly for a first time. Her perfume was too heavy and as they kissed, Vanessa could smell marijuana in her hair. They went to Greenwich Village that night, to listen to some jazz, and then came back and talked in Jason's apartment until four o'clock. He poured tequila until they ran out, and Valerie pulled out a box of joints.

“Help yourselves.” She lit one expertly as Jason watched, and he followed suit, as Vanessa hesitated. She had only tried it once before and she didn't think much of it. “Come on, Sis, don't be a square.” Vanessa did it to be a good sport, and insisted it had had no effect, except that they all found themselves combing the Yellow Pages for an all-night pizza joint, and settled for emptying Louise and Van's refrigerator instead, laughing and giggling as Jason stared at Val. He couldn't get over how different she was from Van, and he was still staring at her the next day as she got back on the plane, this time in a lime-green leather suit her parents had never seen. She had borrowed a lot of her wardrobe for the trip from the girls she roomed with and no one seemed to care. No one knew what belonged to who anymore, and she was only going to be gone a few weeks, unless she got more work, once she was over there.

“Ta ta, guys. Take care of yourselves.” And then she winked at Van. “He's okay.”

“Thanks.” The two young women kissed, and Jason waved as she boarded the plane. It was like having been hit by a cyclone for two days.

“How on earth did she wind up like that, with you the way you are?” He couldn't figure it out and Van laughed at him. He looked as though he were in shock.

“I don't know. We're all different I guess, even if we are one family.”

“Apparently.”

“Want to trade me in for Val?” She was always afraid of that. Valerie was so much more spectacular, and outrageous, with her box of joints, her loose morals, her wild red hair. She got the feeling that she would have gladly slept with Jason, if Vanessa would only have disappeared, but she knew her sister too well, and was careful of that. She had lost too many boyfriends to her over the years to ever trust her again with a man, but she didn't hold a grudge for it. It was just the way Val was, and it didn't mean anything to her.

“Not yet.” Jason looked enormously relieved to have found the quieter twin.

But he did not look relieved when Vanessa made a suggestion several months after that. Their affair had been continuing comfortably. In fact, she had moved in with him downstairs, and Louise had found another roommate in no time at all. And the deal they made was that if her parents called, they would cover for her, tell them to hold on, and come downstairs and bang on the door so she could run up and talk to them. But they seldom called. And if they had come to town, Vanessa would have moved back in for a few days, but so far they hadn't come to New York. They were too busy with their latest film. Lionel was still in Vietnam, but miraculously thus far all had gone well, and Valerie still hadn't returned from Rome. She had gotten another bit part once there, this time in a cowboy film, which was new for her, and she had modeled a few times in Milan, she'd said on the phone, but what she didn't tell Faye was that it was without clothes.

But whatever the case, they were spread all over the world now, and the only one left in L.A. was Anne. Ward wanted to rent a house in Lake Tahoe for two weeks, and he wanted to know if Van could be there. Lionel would be on leave, Greg would be through with his summer job, Val said she'd be home from Rome by then, and Anne said she'd go if she could bring Gail. What he wanted was a commitment from Vanessa, who wanted to bring Jason along, but he looked horrified at the thought.

“To Plastic Land? For two weeks?”

“Come on, you'll be finished with your thesis by then, and Lake Tahoe's for real. Besides, I want you to meet my family.” That was precisely what he feared. He imagined that they all looked like Val and he would be devoured by the enemy. He was a small-town boy and he had no defenses against them. “You already know Val, so they won't all be strangers to you.”

“Oh God.” He did everything to talk her out of it in the next few weeks, but she absolutely refused. She had taken a summer job in a bookstore downtown, and she bugged him about it when she came home every day. “Isn't there something else we can talk about? Robert Kennedy's been killed, the politics in this country stink, your brother is in Vietnam. Do we have to talk about vacations now?”

“Yes.” She knew he was scared but she couldn't imagine of what. They were a harmless bunch, at least in her eyes. “We are going to talk about it, until you agree to come.”

“Shit!” He had shouted at her because he really loved her a great deal. “All right! I'll come!”

“Christ, was that a big deal!” It had only taken two months. And when she called her parents, they were stunned. Other than Anne's little friend Gail, Vanessa was the first one to ask to bring “someone” along.

“Who is he, sweetheart?” Faye tried to sound casual as she frowned at her desk at MGM. She was suddenly frightened that he wasn't good enough, or didn't have Vanessa's best interests at heart. How could she know if the guy was decent or not, and Vanessa was still so naive about everything. She had run into Valerie the week before with some character who looked like a hairdresser and he had been so stoned Val was practically holding him up. She was going to have to spend some time with that girl. Ever since she'd been in Rome she had gone totally wild, and rumors were beginning to reach Faye that she didn't like at all, mostly about the people Val ran around with. But she knew herself that it was almost impossible to control Val. Now she turned her mind to Vanessa again, and this mysterious friend she wanted to bring out, knowing that Vanessa's taste in men was far more sedate than Val's. She didn't even know what Ward would say, although the place he had rented was certainly big enough. There were a dozen bedrooms, and it was right on the lake. Actually, it sounded like a nice idea to her too, and it would be wonderful to have them all around again. “Who is this boy again? Is he at Columbia?” She didn't want to nag, but she knew it probably sounded like it to her child.

“Not anymore. He's just finishing up his Ph.D.”

“How old is this boy?” Now Faye was really upset.

“Sixty-five.” She couldn't resist teasing her but Faye was not laughing with her. “Come on, Mom. Relax. He's only twenty-five. Why?”

“Isn't that a little too old for you?” She was fighting to keep her voice relaxed, but without much success.

“Not that I've noticed. He still walks pretty well. He can dance … ride a bike …”

“Stop being cute. Is it serious? Why do you want to bring him home with you? How involved are you with this man?” The questions came faster than she could answer them, and she was glad she had called when Jason was out.

“No, it's not serious. He's just a good friend.” … I live with him, Mom…. She would really have been thrilled at that. “Why don't you ask Val questions like that and get off my back?” Why did she always have to take the brunt of it? They had always done that to her. They let the boys do what they wanted, they couldn't control Val, and Anne wouldn't talk to them, although she suspected that all of them had deeper secrets than hers. Greg had been banging everything in skirts for the past three years, God only knew what Val was into now, and Anne had had that secret look … but the heat wasn't on them, it was on her, because she was decent to them. It wasn't fair. But the gentleness of her mother's voice touched her heart with the next question.

“Are you in love with him, sweetheart?”

Vanessa hesitated. “I don't know. I just like him very much, and I thought he'd get along with everyone.”

“Is he your steady beau?”

Vanessa smiled at the term and they were friends again. “More or less, I guess.”

“Well, I'll speak to your father about it, and see what he says.” But after asking fewer questions than Faye, of course, he said yes, and told Faye to relax, which was easy for him to say. She had five children to think about, and to her that's what they still were.

CHAPTER 35

They all arrived at Lake Tahoe separately. Ward wanted a few days alone with Faye, and the house they had rented was even better than they'd hoped. There was a small tower at each end, a huge living room downstairs, a dining table that seated eighteen in a paneled dining room with an enormous fireplace. And upstairs there were twelve bedrooms, which was more than enough for all of them. The decor was rustic and cozy, with quilts and antlers and pewter plates everywhere. There were Indian baskets and bearskins on the floor, and it was exactly what Ward had had in mind he noted as he arrived with Faye. They took over what was obviously the master suite, with a huge old-fashioned bathroom and a dressing room. And they sat looking out over the lake the next day, holding hands and remembering their vacation more than a year before in Switzerland.

Faye looked wistful thinking of it, and then turned to him. “I'd like to retire to a place like this one day.”

“My God, you?” He smiled. He couldn't imagine anything more incongruous than his beautiful, worldly, elegant wife, winner of three Academy Awards, most important female director in the world, and trend-setter of sorts, giving it all up to sit staring at a lake for the next forty years. She was only forty-eight years old after all and he just couldn't imagine it “You'd go stark staring mad in three days, if not two.”

“That's not true, sweetheart. One of these days I'm going to surprise you and give it all up.” There was so little left that she hadn't done, that she still wanted to do. More and more often now she thought that she might like to give it all up. She had been directing films for more than fifteen years and that was almost long enough. And he was surprised at how serious she looked.

“You're too young to retire, babe. What would you do?”

She smiled at him and nuzzled his neck. “Stay in bed with you all day.”

“Sounds good to me. Maybe you should retire if that's what you have in mind.” And then he smiled, thinking of the next two weeks they had ahead of them. “Think you can survive two weeks with our brood?” He was looking forward to it, especially to spending some time with Lionel and Greg. It had been years since he'd spent some time outdoors with his sons, and he was so relieved to know that Lionel was surviving Vietnam. There were tears in his eyes, as Li hopped out of his rented car two days after that. He was the first to arrive, and Ward embraced him with both arms. “My God, you look tall and tan, boy.” He looked wonderful to him. And he seemed to have grown up overnight. At almost twenty-two he looked five or six years older than that, and Ward couldn't help noticing that he didn't look gay at all. He wondered if maybe he had changed his mind, but that was too much to ask and when he hinted around at it later that night, Lionel laughed at him. It was the first time they had talked as friends in years. But Ward respected the films he was making in Vietnam, and the constant danger he was in.

“No, Dad.” He said it very gently, with kind eyes. “I haven't “changed my mind.'” Ward looked embarrassed and Lionel smiled. “It doesn't work that way. But there hasn't been anyone since John if that's what you meant.” His face sobered thinking of his lost love. It had been a year and a half, and he still missed him terribly. In some ways, it was easier being in Vietnam. He didn't have to see the places where they had once been. It was a whole new life. And Ward could see how painful it still was for him.

They had a pleasant day and a half before the others began to arrive. First, Jason and Vanessa, from New York. They flew to Reno and rented a car, reaching the house in the late afternoon , and driving up to the house. Vanessa got out and stretched, and Jason looked around, surprised at how beautiful it was. And as Lionel came across the lawn to them, Jason was surprised. He spotted instantly what Van's brother was, and he wondered why she hadn't told him he was gay.

“Hello.” He had warm eyes, and he looked a little bit like Van, “I'm Lionel Thayer.”

“Jason Stuart.” The two men shook hands, commenting on how pretty the place was. There was a spectacular view of the lake, and a moment later, Faye and Ward came up from the beach in bathing suits. He with a fishing pole but not visible results and Faye teasing him all the way, in a black maillot that set off her still-beautiful shape. And now he could see where the real resemblance was. Lionel looked exactly like Faye. And although Jason wouldn't have admitted it to Van, it was impressive meeting her. She was beautiful and intelligent, and her eyes danced with a million ideas. She made everyone laugh, and she had a deep sexy voice. He thought she was one of the most interesting women he'd ever met, as they sat deep in conversation that night. She was quizzing him about his thesis, his plans, his ideas, and he suddenly realized how difficult it must have been to have grown up with her. She was so damn beautiful, and so bright, it would have been impossible to compete with her, and it explained to him now why Vanessa was so quiet and subdued and her twin sister so wild. Van had obviously chosen not to compete at all, but to lead her own quiet life, and Val was still fighting her every inch of the way, but in a way that assured she would never win. She was trying to be more spectacular, more beautiful, she was trying to beat her at her own game, and she could only lose at that. Lionel had gone into film, but in a totally different vein, and he was curious to meet the other two now. Greg arrived next, talking constantly of playing ball, drinking beer, chasing girls. It was almost exhausting to be in the same room with him, but whenever Jason watched Ward talk to him, he saw his eyes light up. This was his adored son, his hero, his jock. And he could only begin to imagine the pain it must have caused Lionel for most of his life. He attempted to talk to Greg once or twice, the day he arrived, but he had nothing much to say, and he always seemed to have something else on his mind.

And then finally Val arrived with Anne. She had stayed in town as long as she could, and agreed to drive her sister up, although she wasn't in the mood to leave town just then. There was a new horror movie being cast, and she didn't want to get passed up. But she couldn't do everything, and she knew there would be another one being cast in two weeks. They were practically a specialty with her now, and she didn't care how much her friends made fun of her. She was working almost all the time, and she was making money regularly.

“Come on,” everyone teased once they'd all arrived, as Lionel turned off the lights in the living room, “let us hear it, Val, the famous Valerie Thayer scream.” She had done dozens of them now, and everyone begged as she laughed, and then finally, standing up in the dark, near the fire, she began to clutch her throat, made a hideous face, and let out a long piercing scream. It was so convincing that they all watched her, horrified, thinking she was choking at first, and then realizing what she had done. She was doing it for them, and she seemed to go on for hours and then suddenly, collapsed in a heap. The audience was thrilled and they clapped and cheered, Jason loudest of all. He and Van had gone canoeing with her that afternoon, and she'd been funny as hell. He was rapidly becoming one of her most ardent fans. And to prove that it was mutual, she had calmly handed him a frog on the way back to the house. He had jumped, Van had screamed, and Val had accused them both of being ridiculous.

“Hell, I worked with two hundred of them at once on the movie I did in Rome.” And then suddenly all three of them started to laugh, and they raced each other back to the house. It was like being kids again. And Lionel, Ward, and Greg had gone off fishing somewhere that day, and returned with several trout, which they tried to convince Faye to cook, but she told them it was their treat instead. Lionel thought that Greg was a little quiet, and he wondered if there was anything on his mind. But all in all, everyone was having fun. And Faye had spent a quiet afternoon, lying on the beach with Anne. She hadn't wanted to go canoeing with Jason and the twins, or fishing with the boys, and Faye wasn't even sure she wanted to lie on the beach with her. But she had nothing else to do, so she stuck around, and read a book. In the end, her friend Gail had decided not to come along. She didn't want to intrude on their family reunion, and had gone to San Francisco with her father instead, which left Anne feeling lonely again. She wrote a letter, and went quietly into the house at one point, and Faye had glimpsed her on the phone. Faye suspected that she was just at the age when she didn't want to leave her friends, and she wasn't thrilled about the trip, but it was doing them all good. By the second week, they were all relaxed and brown. Ward and Jason were great friends, the twins hadn't enjoyed each other as much in years, and Greg seemed to have relaxed finally. Even Anne was having fun, and she went on a long walk with Vanessa one day, when Jason had driven Faye into town. Vanessa glanced at her, thinking again how grown up she looked now. She was sixteen and a half, but her experiences seemed to have matured her far more than her years.

“I like your friend.” She said it quietly, and Van was reminded of how withdrawn she had always been.

“Jason? So do I. He's a nice guy.”

“I think he likes you a lot too.” They both nodded, it was obvious that he did, and that he even enjoyed her family now. He had been so frightened of what they would all do to him. He had finally confessed that he thought it would be like being in a line-up, or being interrogated by each of them, and instead they all had foibles and weird traits of their own. And he liked them all, even shy little Anne, who was looking at her big sister curiously now. “Think you'll marry him?” Vanessa knew that everyone was wondering that, but she was only nineteen and she didn't want to think about that now. Not for several years.

“We never talk about it.”

“Why not?” Anne looked surprised.

“I still have a lot to do. I want to finish school … do my own thing … try to write …”

“That could all take years.”

“I'm not in a rush.”

“I'll bet he is though. He's a lot older than you. Does that bother you, Van?” She wondered what her sister would think of the thirty-three years between her and Bill. Their difference was nothing compared to that.

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Just curious.” They had sat down on a rock, and were dangling their feet in a stream. Anne was staring into the water, dreamy-eyed, and Vanessa saw something in her eyes that made her wonder what went on in the younger girl's head. They were only three years apart, but sometimes it felt more like ten, and it felt as though Anne were the older of the two, almost as if she had lived too much and felt too much pain. She turned to Vanessa then as though reading her thoughts. “I'd marry him if I were you, Van.” She looked old and wise and Vanessa smiled.

“Why?”

“Because you may not find one as nice as him again. A good man is worth anything.”

“Is that what you think?” Vanessa looked at her, seeing something illegible in her eyes again, and she suddenly sensed that there was a man in her life, possibly an important one. It was hard to tell with Anne. She gave so little away, but there was something there that was more than any young girl knew, and she turned her face away, as though to keep Vanessa from seeing what was there. “What about you? Anyone special in your life?” She tried to keep her voice light and sound casual, but Anne instantly shrugged, almost too fast.

“No, nothing much.”

“No one at all?”

“Nope.”

Van knew she lied but there was nothing she could say, and eventually they put their sneakers back on and walked back, but one night she said something to Li. He knew her so well.

“I think Anne is involved with someone.”

“What makes you say that?” He wasn't in touch with her doings anymore. He had been in Vietnam for six months by then, and she didn't confide in him now.

“Just a feeling … I can't tell you why … but she looks different….” She couldn't put her finger on it and her brother laughed, and looked into her eyes instead.

“What about you, Sis? How serious is your attachment to this guy?” She wondered if they would all ask her before they left, and she grinned.

“Relax. Anne asked me the same thing today. I told her it's just for now.” She was being mostly honest with him. How could she know now what the future would bring?

“Too bad. I think he's nice.”

She looked at him and grinned, teasing him for the first time in years. “You can't have him, he's mine.”

He snapped his fingers and grinned. “Aww shit.”

Greg came up behind them just then, and looked from Lionel to Van. “What's this all about?” But Vanessa didn't explain it to him. She just said something nonchalant, and went off to find her much-talked-about, apparently popular friend. And she found him with Val, who was teasing him mercilessly about how straight he was. Ward and Faye were sitting on the porch drinking wine, and Anne was somewhere, inside, on the phone, calling a friend again.

“Probably Gail.” Her mother smiled at Ward, and he shrugged. All was well. There was no need to pry. They were seeing plenty of all of them, and he was happy to say he liked them all. Not all of them were turning out the way he'd planned. He'd had other hopes for Lionel, of course, and he would have liked to see Val going to school instead of learning to scream, but Anne was back on the right track, and Vanessa was certainly doing well, and Greg was their star of course. Although less than Ward thought, as he was admitting to Lionel at that particular point, down near the beach, as they sat on a log, watching the sun go down. Lionel had finally discovered what Greg had been worrying about ever since they'd arrived. It had spilled out like a hundred dollars' worth of groceries from a torn paper bag.

“I just don't know what to tell Dad, Li … if I get kicked off the team….” He closed his eyes, unable to finish the thought, but Lionel's face looked grim. It would be a terrible disappointment to Ward, but there was more to it than that, as he knew only too well. He saw boys like Greg every day, lying dead on the ground, their guts spilling through bullet wounds as his camera whirred.

“What the hell did you do a dumb thing like that for?” They had caught him smoking dope in the spring, and benched him, unbeknownst to Ward, who thought he'd hurt his foot. But his grades were so bad that there was a possibility they might not even let him back on the team.

“Christ, they could even throw me out of school if they wanted to.” There were tears in his eyes, but it felt good to talk about it at last. It had been killing him for weeks.

Without thinking, Lionel grabbed his arm and looked intensely in his eyes. “You can't let that happen. You've got to go back and work your ass off to get those grades up. Hire a tutor if you have to, do anything….” He knew whereof he spoke, and Greg had no idea of what was out there. But he was scared anyway.

Greg looked at him in utter despair. “I may have to cheat.”

Lionel groaned and shook his head. “No, you dumb ass.” It was like being kids again, and at least the confidence felt good now. They had never really been friends, not in years, not since they had begun to grow up and Lionel had sensed the difference in himself. And certainly not since Greg had known the truth about him. But funnily enough, Lionel had been the one he had come to now. He had wanted to talk to him for days. He didn't know Jason well enough, and he couldn't tell his Dad, and he had to tell someone what was happening to him. But Lionel was glaring at him furiously now. “If you cheat, you asshole, they'll throw you out for sure. You have to do everything by the books. Because if you don't, and they throw you out, they're going to grab you up so fast for Vietnam that your head will spin. You're exactly what they want. Young, healthy, strong, and dumb.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean that. And when I say dumb, I mean of lot of things. I mean you're not old enough to be out there in the jungle worrying about your wife and kids. You'll just watch your buddies die and want to go out there and kill Charlie Cong. And you're healthy and young.,…” Lionel's eyes filled with tears. “I watch kids like you die out there every day,” He hated to go back, but in a few weeks he would, and Greg looked at him now with new respect. He was surviving it somehow, and he had become a man, if you could call it that. He was still confused about why Lionel was the way he was, but he listened to him now. He knew he was right, and he was scared to death.

“I've got to get back on that team.”

“Just keep your grades up so they don't throw you out of school.”

“I'll try, U. I swear.”

“Good.” He ruffled his hair as he had when they were kids, and the two brothers smiled as the sun went down. Greg put an arm around Lionel's shoulders, and it reminded them of their days at camp.

“But I hated you then,” Greg said and they both laughed at the memories. “And I really hated Val and Van.” He started to laugh then. “I guess I hated everyone. I was jealous of all of you. I wanted to be an only child.”

“You were in some ways. You were always the closest to Dad.” Greg nodded, not denying it. “But I didn't realize it then.” It impressed Greg that Lionel was so philosophical about that. In recent years, that closeness to Ward sometimes embarrassed him, and he quickly changed the subject now. “At least I never hated Anne.”

Lionel smiled. “None of us did. She was too little to hate.” But she wasn't little now. She was all grown up, or almost.

And she had just hung up the phone from talking to Bill again. It was agony being without him, and she called him collect three or four times a day. Everyone had noticed it, but they all thought she was calling Gail. Only Vanessa continued to think Anne was involved with a man, but there was no way to find out, and she wasn't telling anyone.

On the whole, they had all had a wonderful time, and on the last night, Valerie sat on the floor next to her door, lying in wait for Jason and Van. Every night, she had heard Vanessa scurrying down the hall to him, and tonight when she heard the patter of feet scampering past, she waited two minutes and then ran and knocked on Jason's door. She could hear a giggle, then a gasp, and then Jason's baritone said, “Come in.” She stepped inside, and advanced on him with an amorous air, and as he stared at her in surprise, she pounced on the bed, almost killing her twin, who screamed. And then suddenly, they knew she was teasing them, and everyone laughed, and they talked long into the night. Eventually, they went to find Lionel and Greg and everyone went downstairs to raid the ice box and drink beer. It was the perfect end to a perfect holiday and as they all went their separate ways the next day, they took with them the memory of what fun it had been.

CHAPTER 36

Much to her amazement, Vanessa was able to convince Jason to spend a few days in L.A., but having met her family already, and come to know them fairly well, he had nothing to fear from them, and he was curious to see the place he had maligned for so long. He only agreed to stay for two days, and Valerie saw to it that he had a wonderful time. She took him everywhere, to every studio, every party, every “in” restaurant, every set. Vanessa had never seen as much of Hollywood in her life as she did in those two days.

Faye and Ward were already back at work on the packaging of a new film, and Anne disappeared into her own life. Lionel flew back to Vietnam, via Hawaii and Guam. And after two days, Jason and Vanessa flew back to New York, and everyone picked up the threads of their real lives again.

Vanessa went back to Barnard for her sophomore year, and Greg to Alabama for what should have been his senior year. But it didn't last long. As soon as he returned he knew he was off the team, and after staying drunk for a week to recover from the blow, he missed two important make-up exams he had left over from the previous term. And by October 15, he'd been called in to see the dean. He was being “invited to leave.” They were sorry to see it happen to such a fine boy. They suggested he go home and think about it for the rest of the school year, and if he was ready to settle down after that, they would be happy to see him come back. But six weeks after that, after coming home with his tail between his legs, and seeing the heartbreak in Ward's eyes, the army had a different invitation for him. He was being drafted, which was a sure invitation to Vietnam.

He sat home, all one afternoon, stupefied, and was still sitting there when Anne came home. She came home later and later now, always going home after school with Gail to do homework at her house, and then Bill would drive her home when he got in from work. It gave them a few minutes alone, and was a routine she counted on. Generally, when she came back to the Thayer house at night, there was no one there except the maid anyway. But since Greg had come home, things had changed a bit.

She let herself in with her key, and saw him sitting there looking as though someone had died. She stopped and stared at him. She was tall and beautiful and grown up now, but he didn't notice that. He simply looked at her unseeingly.

“What happened to you?” She had never been close to him, but she was sorry he'd been kicked out of school. She knew how much the football team meant to him, and he'd been depressed ever since he got back, but he looked worse today, and something major had to be wrong.

He raised frightened eyes to her. “I got my draft notice today.”

“Oh no …” She sat down across from him, realizing instantly what it meant. It was bad enough having Li there. And they were still sitting there, talking about it, when Ward and Faye walked in. It was early for them and they were in a good mood. Things were going well and the cast was taking shape beautifully. But Ward stopped and looked at them as soon as he walked in the door. He could see instantly on Greg's face that something was wrong and he was afraid that it was Lionel.

“Bad news?” He said the words as fast as he could, so they could answer him just as fast.

Greg nodded his head. “Yeah.” He handed the notice to him wordlessly, and reading it, Ward sank into a chair, and a moment later handed it to Faye. All they wanted was for Lionel to end his tour there, and now they would have Greg to worry about too. It didn't seem fair to have both of them there.

Faye looked at Ward. “Isn't there some kind of law against that?” Ward shook his head and looked back at Greg. It said he had to report in three days. They certainly weren't wasting any time, and it was already December 1. He thought of Canada again. But it seemed wrong with Lionel there. As though Vietnam were good enough for him to risk his life, but not for Greg. It was clear that he had to go.

He reported to Fort Ord just as the paper said, on December 4, and was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia, for basic training for six weeks. They didn't even let him come home for Christmas Eve, and it was a bleak holiday this year. Val had gone to Mexico with a group of friends, Vanessa had gone to New Hampshire with Jason finally, Greg was in basic training, Lionel in Vietnam, and Anne straining to run out the door. She had made the same arrangement with Bill this year, and in a few weeks she would turn seventeen, only one more year to go, they told each other constantly.

Greg was shipped out on January 28, and sent straight to Saigon, and from there he went to Bien Hoa Air Base north of Saigon. He didn't even have a chance to touch base with Lionel, who had only three more weeks to serve there. He was being sent to Germany after that, and he could hardly wait. He'd had enough of that stinking war to last a lifetime—if he survived. Too damn many men he knew were killed the day before they went home. He was holding his breath until the plane touched down in Los Angeles and not before. But he also knew that Greg was in Vietnam, and he tried several times to contact him, to no avail. His CO. had lost no time at all sending all the fresh recruits to combat areas the day they arrived at Bien Hoa. It was a hell of a welcome to Vietnam.

And he stayed there for exactly two weeks. On February 13 the Army I Corps staged several actions and rocket attacks against the Vietcong, destroying two villages, and taking prisoners for several nights. Greg had his first taste of blood and death and victory. The best friend he'd made in basic was shot in the gut, but the doctors said he'd be all right. The only good thing about it was that he'd be going home. Dozens of other boys died, seven disappeared, which frightened everyone, and Greg himself had the opportunity to shoot two old women and a dog, which he found both frightening and exhilarating, like running across the goal line with the ball in your arms. And then at 5 A.M., with the jungle rustling to life, and birds hooting and cackling all around, Greg was sent ahead with a party of other men, and he stepped on a mine. There wasn't even a body to reclaim after that. He disappeared in a cloud of blood as his buddies watched and most of them were wearing him as they headed back to camp. They staggered in, two of them badly maimed, all of them in shock. And the news reached Lionel later that day. He sat staring blankly at the words on the paper someone had handed him. Regret. Gregory Ward Thayer stepped on a mine today. Killed in action. And then only the name of the CO. A ripple went down his spine, as it had as he looked down at John's face outside their charred apartment as the fire trucks arrived. He had never loved Greg as he'd loved John. He would never love anyone like that again. But he and Greg were brothers, and now suddenly he was gone. He thought of his father's pain too when he would hear the news, and suddenly a shaft of agony pierced through him.

“Sonofabitch.” He screamed the words outside his hotel, and then he leaned against the wall and cried, until someone came and peeled him away. He was a good guy, even though people knew what he was. But he didn't bother anyone. And they felt sorry for him now. They all knew his brother had been killed that day. Someone had seen the telegram from the front lines, and news traveled fast in Saigon. Everyone knew everything that was happening. And two boys sat up all night with Lionel, watching him drink and cry. And the next morning, they put him on the plane. He had survived a year in Vietnam, made more than four hundred short films to show in the States, many of them on the news all over the world. And his brother had only lived nineteen days. It wasn't fair, but nothing about the place was, not the rats or the disease or the wounded children screaming everywhere.

Lionel stepped off the plane in L.A., looking shell-shocked. He would never see his brother again. He had a three-week leave before going to Germany, and someone drove him home, he remembered later on. He felt the way he had when John had died, and that was only two years before … twenty-six months in fact … and he had the same terrible numb feeling now.

He rang the doorbell because he no longer had a key, and his father stood there staring at him. They had gotten the news the night before. And everyone was there, except Vanessa, who was flying home that afternoon.

There would be no burial, because they weren't sending him home. There was nothing to send, except their fucking telegrams. And Lionel stood staring at Ward, as the older man let out a groan of agony, and the two men fell into each other's arms, partly out of relief that Lionel was still alive, and the grief that Greg was gone. Eventually, Ward led him inside, and together they cried for a long time. Lionel held him in his arms like a little child, as Ward keened for the boy he'd loved so much, the boy he'd pinned all his hopes on, their football star. And now he was gone. And there was nothing to send home. Nothing at all. They had only their memories.

They moved like wooden people for the next few days. Lionel was vaguely aware that Van was there, Val was staying with them, Anne … but no Greg … there would never be a Greg again. There were only four of them now.

They had a memorial service for him, at First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood. And all his high school teachers came. Ward sat thinking bitterly that if those bastards in Alabama had let him stay on the team, or at least kept him in school, he would still be alive. But hating them didn't help anything. It was Greg's own fault for flunking out. But whose fault was it that he'd been killed? It had to be someone's fault, didn't it? The minister's voice droned on, saying his name, and none of it seemed real. And afterwards, they all stood outside, shaking people's hands. It was hard to believe that Greg was gone, that they would never see him again. And Ward glanced at Lionel a thousand times, as though to be sure that he was still there. And the girls were too. But it would never be the same again. One of them was gone. For eternity.

CHAPTER 37

A few days after the memorial service, Vanessa went back to New York, and Val moved back to her own place again. And Lionel spent most of his time alone in the house. His parents and Anne were never there. They were at work, and she was in school, and he felt a hideous magnetic attraction for Greg's room. He remembered the days when he and John had been friends, and now they were both gone … together again somewhere. It all seemed so unfair, and he wanted to scream all the time.

A couple of times he went out for a drive, just to get some air. His old Mustang was still at the house. He had left it there when he went to Vietnam. Greg's car was there too, but he didn't want to drive it now. It was sacred, and just looking at it hurt his soul.

He took the red Mustang out one afternoon, a week before he was due to leave for Germany, and he decided to stop for a hamburger before he went home. It seemed like the first time he'd been hungry in weeks, and as he parked the car and walked inside, he noticed a two-tone gray Rolls-Royce and thought that he had already seen it somewhere, but he wasn't sure where, and he wasn't really interested. He sat down at the counter and ordered a hamburger and a Coke, and then glanced in the mirror ahead of him, and as he did he sat up straight. Behind him, reflected in the mirror that he faced, was his youngest sister with a much older man. They were holding hands and they had just kissed. She was drinking a milk shake, and he looked as though he were teasing her. They were laughing and then he saw them kiss again. He was horrified, the man looked as old as Ward, and he wanted a better look, but he was afraid to turn around. And then suddenly he remembered who he was. It was the father of her friend … what was her name? … Sally?,… Jane? … Gail! That was it!

And as the couple left, the older man had an arm around the girl and they kissed once more, once outside, without ever noticing him, the couple sat in the car for a long time, and Lionel could see their lips meet again, and finally they drove off as he stared, his hamburger forgotten, his appetite gone. He left his money on the counter, and drove home rapidly, and when he got there, she was upstairs, the door to her room closed, and Faye and Ward had just gotten home. Lionel looked as though he had just seen a ghost, but none of them looked very well these days; they were all still mourning Greg. Ward looked and felt like an old man suddenly. At fifty-two, one of his brightest hopes was gone, and Faye looked tired and pale. But Lionel looked worse than either of them. And Faye noticed it as he entered. He was fighting with himself about whether to tell them or not. They had enough on their minds, but he didn't want her getting in trouble again. They had all been through that once before, especially Anne, and she didn't need that again.

“Is something wrong, sweetheart?” Faye asked him gently as he sat down in the den. But everything was these days. Ward glanced at him despairingly, and Lionel decided it was unfair to say anything. He would talk to her himself first … but what if she ran away again? And this time he couldn't stay to help them out. He couldn't spend five months looking for her with John. There was no time to waste. He sighed deeply and sat back in the chair, looking at them both, and then got up and closed the door. And when he turned around and faced them again, they could both see that something was wrong. “What is it, Li?” Faye looked at him with frightened eyes. Had one of them gotten hurt? Vanessa in New York? … Val on a set? … Anne? …

He decided to come right to the point. “It's Anne. I saw her this afternoon … with a friend of hers …” His heart turned over as he thought of it. He was older than Ward. And he could just imagine what he'd been doing to her.

“Gail?” Faye looked even more nervous now. They hadn't monitored the friendship much. She seemed all right, and her father seemed very nice too, and the girls went to the same school. But Lionel totally stunned her with his next words.

“Not Gail, her father, Mom. They were at a hamburger joint where I went, kissing and holding hands.” Ward looked as though he'd been punched. And he couldn't take much more now. And Faye stared at him in disbelief.

“But that can't be. Are you sure it was Anne?” He nodded slowly. There had been no question of it. “But how is that possible?”

“Maybe you should ask her that.”

Faye's heart almost stopped, thinking of all the times she had stayed there, and they had never questioned it. What if Gail hadn't even been there? Or worse yet, if she had … if the man was really sick … Faye began to cry. They couldn't go through anymore, and most particularly not with her. God only knew what her involvement was with this man. Faye jumped instantly to her feet. “I'm going to get her down here right now.” But Ward reached out and touched her arm.

“Maybe we should all calm down first. It could all be a big mistake. Maybe Lionel misinterpreted what he saw.” He looked apologetically at his son, but he didn't want it to be true. He couldn't handle another tragedy, and God only knew what the child was into now. And she was seventeen. It would be harder to control her than it was at fourteen, and that had been hard enough.

Faye turned to her husband with a determined look. “I think we should talk to her.”

“Fine. Then talk to her, but don't accuse.” And Faye had the best possible intentions when she knocked on Anne's door, but the moment Anne saw her face, she knew that disaster had struck, and when she followed her mother downstairs to the den, she was stunned when she saw her brother there.

“Hello, Li.” But there was nothing friendly about them, or even about him. He nodded at her, and Ward was quick to take the floor.

“Anne, we'll get right to the point, and no one's accusing you, but we want to know what's going on. For your own sake of course.” A premonition of disaster gnawed at her, but she held firm, and her eyes gave nothing away. She just searched their faces. She couldn't believe that even if Lionel had seen anything, he would actually betray her, but she was wrong. To her mind, he had. And she would never forgive him, she told herself afterwards. “Your brother thinks he may have seen you somewhere today. You may not even have been there, sweetheart,” and in his heart of hearts, he was begging her not to have been. He didn't want to have to deal with it, to face some man his own age, and accuse him of rape, which was what it was with a seventeen-year-old girl. “It was a hamburger place,” he turned to Lionel, “where was it, son?” Lionel filled in the address and Anne felt her heart stop. “But the important thing is that he thought he saw you with a man.”

“So? Gail's father took me for a milk shake on the way home.” She turned on Lionel angrily, and she looked beautiful when she did. This was no child anymore. She was a woman now. And Lionel was singularly aware of it that afternoon. It explained everything for the past year, why she had adjusted so well to her new school, why she was never at home. “You have a filthy mind.” She spat the words at him.

“You were kissing him.”

She stared furiously at the boy who had once saved her life. “Then at least I'm not gay.” It was a vicious thing to say, but he didn't give a damn. Without saying a word, he reached out and grabbed her arm, as her parents watched, horrified.

“He's thirty years older than you, Anne.”

“Thirty-three to be exact.” Her eyes blazed. To hell with all of them. They couldn't do anything to her now. It was too late. She belonged to Bill. She always would. And she turned on all of them now. “And I don't give a damn what any of you think. Not one of you has been decent to me over the years,” she hesitated for only an instant, glancing at Li, “except you, but that was a long time ago. But you,” she glared at her parents hatefully, “you've never been here for me. He's been there for me more in the last two years than you ever were, with your movies, and your business deals, and your romance with each other and your friends. You never even knew who I was … and neither did I. Well, I do now, and I have since I met Bill and Gail.”

“Is it a ménage à trots?” Lionel was prepared to be just as vicious with her, as their parents looked on.

“No, it's not, as a matter of fact. Gail doesn't even know.”

“Thank God for that. You're a fool, Anne. You're an old man's tart. It's no different than what you did in the Haight, except for the hallucinogens. You're an old man's whore.” There had been an older man there too, Moon. She remembered him still. But this was nothing like that. And she struck out at her brother now. She freed her arm and swung at him, but he stopped it before it reached his face, and suddenly Ward and Faye were on their feet as one, and Faye was shouting at them.

“Stop! This is disgusting. For chrissake, stop it, both of you!”

“What are you going to do about her, Mom?” Lionel was furious. She had fucked up her life again. Why did she keep doing that? But she was adamant.

“You can all go screw yourselves. I';ll be eighteen years old in ten months, and there isn't a damn thing you can do to me then. You can torture me all you want now, you can even keep me from seeing him. But in ten months, mark my words, I'll be married to him.”

“You're out of your mind if you think he'll many you. All you are is a piece of ass to him.” The funny thing was that it felt good to shout at her, as though he could shout at the fates that had killed Greg and John. At least he could let some of the feelings out now, and besides, he was furious with her.

“You don't know Bill Stein.” Anne said the words in a calm measured way, as Faye watched her face, and suddenly she was afraid. She was serious about this man, and Faye couldn't help asking her.

“You're not pregnant again, are you?”

She looked at her with hatred. “No, I'm not. I learned that lesson once. The hard way.” No one disagreed with her. And now Ward came forward with a set face and a frown.

“I just want you to know that in ten months or ten years, you are not marrying this man. I am calling my attorney, and the police tonight, and I'm bringing charges against him.”

“For what? Loving me?” She looked at her father derisively. She had no respect for either of them. They had done nothing for her, and she knew she meant nothing to them. Maybe they were just angry that someone did love her, she told herself. But her father went on to explain his plans.

“It is statutory rape to have sexual intercourse with a girl your age, Anne.” Her father's voice was cold. “He can go to prison for that.”

“I'll testify against all of you.” She looked panicked now.

“It won't change anything.”

She was suddenly frightened for him. What if he was right? Why had Bill never said that to her? She had to protect him now. She looked at her father desperately. “Do anything you want to me, but don't hurt him.” The words struck Faye like a blow, she cared enough about this man to sacrifice herself. It was frightening that she loved him so much, and what if they were wrong? But they couldn't be. He had obviously taken gross advantage of her. But Faye looked at Ward.

“Why don't we talk to him first, and see what he says. If he promises never to see her again, maybe it would be simpler not to take any legal action against him.” Ward was difficult to convince, but eventually Faye got through to him. And they forced Anne to call, and demand that he come over immediately. She had to tell him why, and he could hear her crying on the phone.

He entered the Thayer house, to find a kangaroo court waiting for him. Ward let him in and he had to control himself not to attack him then and there. And Lionel was standing by. Bill recognized all the players in the piece, especially Faye. He had come alone, and he faced Anne sobbing hysterically across the room. Instantly, he went to her, smoothed her hair, dried her cheeks, and then realized that they were all staring at him.

He had no excuses to make. He admitted it all. He sympathized totally with Ward, and told him he had a daughter the same age, but he also tried to tell them some things about Anne, about how lonely she had been, how marked by giving up her child, how guilty over what had happened in the Haight-Ashbury. He explained how her earliest memories of their seeming indifference went back to when she was a tiny child, and she had felt rejected by all of them all her life. He made no excuses for himself, but he explained to them who Anne Thayer was, and her parents sat there, realizing what a stranger she had been to them. And this unknown child, who had come to reject them eventually too, had found Bill Stein, and sought everything from him, and in his own loneliness he had nurtured her. Perhaps it was wrong, he admitted with damp eyes, but it was sincere. He echoed exactly what Anne had said to them, though in a kindlier tone. In less than a year, he planned to marry her, with or without their consent, or even GaiI's, once she found out. He would have preferred everyone to wish them well, but this had gone on long enough, and if he could have married her sooner, he would. She could continue school, she could do anything she wanted to, but when her eighteenth birthday came, he would be waiting for her, whether they would continue to let him see her now or not.

And as he quietly said the words, she sat there and beamed at him. He hadn't let her down, and he was willing to risk anything for her. He was exactly what she had always believed him to be, and the three other Thayers were shocked, most of all Ward, who stared at this unexciting-looking man and couldn't understand what his daughter saw in him. He wasn't beautiful or young, handsome or debonair. He was actually rather banal, and his looks were very plain. But he had offered something to their child that they had never been able to give her. And whether they wanted to see it or not, she was happy with him. She sat there now, blooming quietly in the sunlight of his love. They really didn't care what was done to them in the next year. Both were willing to wait, and after that it was clear what their plans were. And suddenly both Ward and Faye believed they would. One couldn't fight them at all, no matter how wrong it might be, or how great the age difference, or how big a fool they thought Anne was.

After he left, and they had lectured Anne, Ward and Faye talked quietly in their room. They didn't know what to make of him, and they had told her they didn't know if there would be charges or not. Bill had gone home to make a clean breast of it with Gail, and would be happy to speak to them at any time. He wasn't really apologetic with them. After two years of loving her, he felt he had relatively little to apologize for. He hadn't hurt her or abandoned her, used her, or done anything terribly wrong. By now she was almost eighteen, and it didn't seem shocking to the lovers anymore. He suspected Gail would be stunned at first, but she would get over it too. And they had their lives to lead, Anne and Bill. Both had made that perfectly clear to everyone.

“What do you think?” Faye sat in a chair and looked at Ward. He still couldn't see what she saw in the man, and she was only seventeen years old. It was mind boggling.

“I think she's a damn fool.”

Faye sighed. This was worse than some of the movies she'd done. “So do I, but that's our opinion, not hers.”

“Apparently.” He sat down across from his wife, and took her hand. “How do they get themselves into these things? Lionel with his damn inclinations to something I don't understand. Val with her crazy career, Vanessa living with that boy in New York, and thinking we don't know about it.” Faye smiled, they had talked about it before. She thought she was so exotic and unusual, and it was so transparent, they all knew what was going on, and they didn't really mind. She was twenty years old and he was a nice boy. “And now Anne with this man…. Good God, Faye, he's thirty-three years older than she is.” It still wouldn't sink in.

“I know. And he isn't even beautiful.” Faye smiled. “If it was someone who looked like you, I'd understand at least.” At fifty-two he was still as handsome as he had been twenty years before, though in a different way. But he was still long and lean and elegant, as was she. This man had none of that. It was difficult to see his appeal, except that he had kind eyes, and he seemed to care a great deal for her. She looked up at her husband then. “Do we have to agree to this, Ward?” She didn't mean legally, she meant practically for the next ten months.

“I don't see why we should.”

“Maybe we'd be smarter if we did. You can't fight City Hall.” They had learned that again and again, with Lionel, with Val … Vanessa … now Anne, They did what they wanted to … except poor Greg. And Ward looked at her now.

“You mean agree to her having an affair with him openly?” He looked shocked. “She's only seventeen years old.” But they both knew that she was far older than that, in her soul, she had been through a lot, and it had weathered her.

“She's been doing it for the last year or so anyway.”

Ward narrowed his eyes at his wife. “What makes you so liberal suddenly?”

She smiled tiredly at Ward. “Maybe I'm just getting old.”

“And wise.” He kissed her again. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” They agreed to think about it for a few days, and that night they had dinner with Lionel. Anne stayed in her room and no one urged her to come down.

There was enough strain on them as it was, and in the end, they decided to give in. They urged her to be discreet, to not become the talk of the town. Bill Stein was moderately well known in the entertainment industry. He was a respected attorney and had several well-known clients, and they were sure he wasn't anxious for the publicity either. The whole idea was to keep it as quiet as possible, and then marry, as they planned to, after the first of the year. He gave her an enormous engagement ring, which she only wore when she went out with him. A pear-shaped solitaire that she called her Easter Egg. It was ten and a half carats, and she had been embarrassed when she showed it to Gail. And Gail had been very decent to them. It had been a shock to her too at first, but she loved them both a great deal. She wished them well, and they both decided to go to summer school, so that they could graduate before the Christmas holidays. That way Anne wouldn't have to go to school, once she married Bill. And Gail thought she should leave them alone, at least for a while. Besides, it would be embarrassing to live with them at first. And she wanted to go to the Parsons School of Design in New York.

Lionel was still angry at her when he left for Germany. He didn't approve of the man, no matter what anyone said.

“You got off easy, if you ask me,” he told her the day he left, and she'd looked coldly at him. She would never forgive him for turning her in, she said.

“You're a fine one to be making judgments about someone else.”

“Being gay doesn't impair my mind, Anne.”

“No. But maybe your heart.”

He almost wondered if she was right, as he left. He didn't feel the same way about anything anymore, ever since Vietnam. He had seen too many people die, lost too many people he cared about … and two he deeply loved … John and Greg. It was difficult to imagine loving anyone again. He had no desire to in fact, and wondered secretly if that was why he was so angry at her. He couldn't understand her happiness, because his was long gone, with John, and could never come again, and her life stretched ahead of her, with promise and excitement and as much sparkle as her enormous engagement ring.

CHAPTER 38

On January 18, 1970, Anne Thayer and Bill Stein stood at Temple Israel on Hollywood Boulevard, with their families and a handful of friends watching them. Anne hadn't even wanted to go that far, but Bill had urged her to anyway.

“It'll be easier for your parents, sweetheart, if you let them plan a little something.” But Anne had no interest in it. For almost two years she had felt like his wife, and she needed no fanfare now. Gail thought it was silly of her. She was so unlike girls her age. She wanted no wedding dress, no veil.

It looks so barren, Faye thought to herself, remembering the magnificence of her own wedding day. Anne wore a simple white wool dress with a high neck and long sleeves, simple pumps, her blond hair in a single braid with baby's breath in it, and she carried no bouquet. She came to him simple and stark, wearing no jewelry save the large diamond he had given her. And the wedding ring was a wide band of diamonds too. She looked so innocent and young that it looked almost incongruous on her hand. But she noticed none of that. She saw only Bill. It was all she had wanted since the day they met, and she came quietly to him now, on her father's arm, and then Ward stepped back, feeling again how little any of them had known her in the last eighteen years. It was as though she had slipped through their lives too quickly, too silently, living behind a locked door, always disappearing. Suddenly, it seemed as though his entire memory of her childhood was saying, “Where's Anne?”

They had a small luncheon at the house, which was all Anne would allow them to do. There were flowers everywhere, and the champagne was very fine. And Faye looked quiet and restrained in a green silk suit that set off her eyes. But somehow she didn't feel like the mother of the bride. It all felt like a charade, as though they were playing games, and eventually Gail would go home with her Dad. But when they left in the gray Rolls that night, Anne went with them, and she turned to kiss Faye and Ward goodbye. Faye had an overwhelming urge to ask her if she was sure, and yet when she saw her daughter's eyes, there was no question there. She had given herself to the man she loved, and she was a woman now.

Gail was more subdued than usual, but she was happy for them. They had both graduated a few weeks before, and they would fly to New York with her now. She was going to Parsons School of Design, and would live at the Barbizon as Vanessa once had. And after they dropped her off, Bill and Anne were flying on to San Juan, and then to St. Thomas and St. Martin's from there, ending up in St. Croix. They would be gone for several weeks, and were in no hurry to come back. But Bill wanted to take her shopping in New York first. There were several jewelers whose wares he wanted her to see, Harry Winston, David Webb, a few others he liked, and then there was other shopping too. “Bergdorf's, BendeI's, Bloomingdale's,” the two girls shouted in unison that night.

'-You spoil me too much!” She smiled and kissed his neck, she wanted nothing more from him than his love, and he wanted to buy a few pretty things for Gail too.

“Well, Mrs. Stein, how does it feel?” He smiled at her that night as they lay on his big bed, legally this time, for the first time in two years.

“It feels wonderful.” She grinned like a little girl, still wearing her braid, and now a lacy nightgown that had been a wedding gift from Val, although it was clear she didn't approve of them. None of them did, but more than that they didn't understand. They never had … except Li … once upon a time. He hadn't been at the wedding though. He was still in Germany, waiting to be released in a few weeks. And Van had been back in New York, deep in her junior year. It didn't really matter to Anne, the only one she had wanted there was Bill, and she looked happily at him now, pondering the past. It was as though none of it had ever been real, only this. “I feel as though I've been married to you all my life.” And the funny thing was he felt that way too.

“So do I.” His friends had all made comments of course. But eventually they pretended to understand. There were lots of hits on the shoulder, slaps on the back, surreptitious winks. “Cradle robbing, eh, old man?” They all envied him, and some of them said unkind things behind his back, but he didn't give a damn. He was going to take care of his little gem for the rest of his life, and as she looked up at him with trusting eyes, she knew he would.

They slept locked in each other's arms that night, grateful again that they could do anything they wanted now. They had a lazy breakfast with Gail, and that afternoon they all packed, and flew to New York, as planned, that night. Anne thought briefly of calling Ward and Faye to say goodbye and then somehow she never got around to it. She had nothing to say to them anyway, she told Bill, as the plane took off.

“You're awful hard on them, love. They did their best. They just never understood very well.” In her eyes, that was the understatement of the year. They had robbed her of her child, threatened to bring charges against Bill, they had passed her over, passed her by, they would have totally destroyed her life, if it hadn't been for him. She looked gratefully up at him again, as they sat in first-class, he with “his two girls” as he called them. Anne sat in the middle, and while Bill napped during the flight, she chatted with Gail. They were looking forward to the two days they would share in New York, before Gail moved into the Barbizon, and they flew on to their honeymoon. Meanwhile, they would share a suite at the Pierre.

And for the next two days, they did nothing but shop. Anne had never seen so many beautiful things in her life, except in her mother's films. He bought Gail a beautiful little mink coat, in a sporty cut, with a matching hat. He told her she'd need it to keep warm, and a mountain of ski clothes, a new pair of skis, half a dozen dresses from BendeI's, six pairs of Gucci shoes, and a gold bracelet she'd been crazy about at Cartier's, with a little screwdriver to put it on, which the girls loved. Anne loved it so much, he surprised her with one too. But there were even more goodies for his young bride, a full-length mink coat for evening wear, a short one for day, dresses and suits and blouses and skirts, boxes and boxes of beautiful shoes, Italian boots, an emerald ring, a beautiful diamond pin, huge pearl earrings from Van Cleef that she loved, and two more gold bracelets she had admired, and on the last day of the trip, he gave her a splendid piece from David Webb, it was a lion embracing a lamb, all in a single massive hunk of gold, and it was so beautiful that one could only stare at it as it dangled from her arm.

“What am I going to do with all this?” She pranced around their hotel room in her underwear, waving at the beautiful furs and clothes hanging everywhere, the shoe boxes, the handbags, the fur hats, and in her suitcase were half a dozen jewelry boxes. It was almost embarrassing, except that he enjoyed it all so much too. He bought a few things for himself too, like a fur-lined raincoat, and a new gold watch, but he was far more interested in shopping for her. Even Gail thought it was fun. She had so many pretty things he'd given her over the years that she begrudged Anne nothing now. They were almost sisters anyway, and her father would still have bought her anything she desired, perhaps even more so now. He was far too generous, both girls told him on their last night, but they enjoyed every minute of it, and Vanessa's eyes almost fell out of her head when she and Jason met them in the Oak Room for drinks, and Anne glided gracefully across the room in beautifully cut red slacks and a creamy silk shirt, a red alligator Hermes handbag to match, and a mink coat that people stopped and stared at, even in New York. And as she approached, the diamonds sparkled on her hands, you could see the Webb bracelet in all its glory on her arm, and two small rubies in her ears. She looked so lovely and so poised that Vanessa barely recognized her as the same girl.

“Anne?” Her jaw almost dropped as she stared at her. She was wearing her hair in a simple braid again, with soft wisps of blond fluff framing her face, her makeup was simple and in good taste, but everything she wore, from her jewelry to her boots looked like something out of Vogue, and Vanessa couldn't imagine her that way, as she laughed and sat down. Vanessa could see that Jason was impressed too.

“We've been shopping an awful lot,” Anne's voice was as soft as it had always been, and she looked at Bill quickly with a shy glance, as he laughed. “He's been spoiling me too much.”

“I can see that.”

She ordered a Dubonnet, which was the only drink she liked, and Vanessa and Jason had already ordered scotch. Bill had a martini on the rocks, and Gail had white wine, and they all chatted amiably about nothing much. The young people reminisced about Lake Tahoe almost two years before, and Anne asked Jason about his job. He had timed it all perfectly. He received his Ph.D. weeks after he turned twenty-six. He had successfully evaded the draft for more than eight years, and now he had a job teaching literature at NYU. It didn't excite him very much, and he'd been doing it for the past year. He was still working on his play, but he was getting nowhere with it.

“I keep trying to get Vanessa to collaborate on it with me, and she won't.”

“I can hardly keep up with school,” she explained to Bill, whom she thought pleasant and fatherly. She still had another year to go at Barnard. It was all she could think of now. She wanted to finish and get a job herself. She seemed inclined to stay in New York, but Anne suspected it was because of him. They had been together for two and a half years, and she wondered if she'd ever marry him. Gail asked her the same thing after dinner that night and Anne shrugged pensively. She didn't quite understand the relationship they had, she had the feeling they were just moving along parallel tracks, pursuing their own lives. They had no desire for a permanent bond, more important than that, no need. And neither of them ever mentioned having kids. Ail they talked about was their work, their jobs, their writing, his play.

“Sounds pretty boring to me.” Gail shrugged, “at least he's cute.” He was that, but not in a way that appealed to Anne. She thought Bill the most handsome man in the world, and going home in a cab that night, Vanessa shook her head, as she talked to Jason about it.

“I don't understand that kid at all. She's practically a child, and there she is married to that old man, running around in diamonds and a mink coat.”

“Maybe those things are important to her.” Jason couldn't understand it either but he had always thought she was a nice girl. Not as intelligent or interesting as Van, but maybe that was hard to say. She was so young and so withdrawn it was hard to know what she was.

But Vanessa was shaking her head. “I don't think they are important to her. I don't think she gives a damn about any of that stuff. He just wants to give her all that, and she probably wears it to please him.” She was right on that score, she knew her sister that well, the only one in the family who would have loved the glitter and the furs was Val, and eventually Greg would have liked the good life, if he'd lived, the others had simpler tastes, and their parents did now too, contrary to their early life. But it had no importance for them anymore, hadn't for years, Van knew. “I just don't see what she sees in a man his age.”

“He's awfully good to her, Van, and not just materially. He can't do enough for her. If she's thirsty, she has a glass of water in her hand before she can speak up, if she's tired he takes her home, if she's bored, he takes her out to dance, to Europe, to see friends … you can't beat that.” He smiled at the girl he loved, suddenly wishing he did more for her. “A guy his age thinks of all that stuff, he's got nothing else to do,” he teased and she laughed.

“That's no excuse. You mean I don't get a diamond ring the size of an egg?”

He looked at her soberly as they walked into the house. “Is that what you want someday, Van?”

“Nope.” She sounded sure of it and she was. She wanted other things in her life. Like him. Maybe a couple of kids one day, eight or ten years down the road. Stuff like that.

“What do you want?”

She shrugged pensively as she threw her coat on a chair. “Maybe to publish a book one day … good reviews …” She couldn't think of anything else, and she didn't want to tell him that she might want him and a baby or two. It was too soon to think of that, let alone talk about it.

“That's all?” He looked disappointed.

She smiled at him, softening, “Maybe you too.”

“You've got that now.”

She sat down on the couch and he lit a fire. They were comfortable here, with their books and papers all around, the Sunday Times still spread out on the floor tangled with his sneakers, and her shoes, his glasses on the desk. “I really think this is all I want, Jase.”

He looked pleased. “You have mighty simple tastes, my friend.” He held her close, and then, “Are you serious about the book?”

“I hope so. After I finish school and get a job.”

He sighed. “It's so damn hard to write them.” He knew that only too well. “I still think we should collaborate on a play.” He looked at her hopefully and she smiled. He had always felt that their styles would mesh well.

“Maybe one day.” They kissed and he lay her back on the couch and slipped a hand into her blouse. It was a far cry from the scene between Bill and Anne at the Pierre. She was lying on the satin bedspread wearing a marabou-trimmed peignoir as his tongue ran lazily up her thigh, and the diamonds on her hand sparkled in the dim light, just as he touched her where she liked it most, and she arched her back with a moan, as he pulled the peignoir from her and it drifted slowly to the floor. But the feelings were the same. The love, the desire, the commitment to each other through thick or thin. It was all the same, in sneakers, or marabou.

CHAPTER 39

In May, Bill and Anne went back to New York for a few days. Anne wanted to see Gail, and he had business there. They stayed at the Pierre again, and he took her to the jewelers he liked best, and insisted on buying her some new things. The weather was beautiful, and she had just bought a beautiful white dress and coat at BendeI's which she wore to lunch with him at Cote Basque, and he was so proud of her as she walked into the room. She was still totally unaware of herself, and she moved like a doe as she approached him across the room, seeing no one stare at her, seeing only his eyes smiling at her. But he saw something else, that same empty, nervous look that had been there for months. He hoped it happened soon, and he knew why it was so important to her. He wanted a baby too, but not as desperately as she did.

“How was Bendel's today?”

“Pretty good.” She still talked like a child sometimes, but she didn't look like one anymore. She was wearing her hair down, and he had had a woman he knew in L.A. teach her how to put makeup on, and suddenly she looked more like twenty-five than eighteen. Gail had noticed it too, and had obviously approved. She had a new boyfriend now, and was loving New York. Bill still insisted that she stay at the Barbizon, but she was threatening to move out by fall and get her own place, and Anne had been assigned to work on him. “I just bought this today.” She waved at the dress and coat with a perfectly manicured hand, and he noticed that she was wearing the new pearls he had just bought her in Hong Kong. They were huge and almost didn't look real. “You like?”

“I love.” He kissed her gently on the lips, and the waiter took their order for drinks. He had wine, she had Perrier, and they both ate a light lunch. She loved the quenelles at the Cote Basque, and he had a spinach salad and a steak. They weren't really doing justice to the exquisite cuisine, but he had another meeting to attend, and she was off to Bloomingdale's, and then she was going to meet Gail at school.

Bill wondered sometimes if she should be going to school too, she needed something more to do than get her nails done and shop and wait for him to come home at night. She needed something more than keeping her temperature chart every day. She had to think of something else, but he was afraid to tell her that. He just kept reassuring her it would happen soon. They had both had one child, so they knew they were each capable of it, it was just a matter of time, the doctor had told her that too. “Have you called your sister yet, sweetheart?” She shook her head vaguely, playing with the cookie she had taken from the tray. “Why not?” She still avoided most of the Thayers, even Lionel, whom he knew she had once loved so much. It was as though she wanted to shut them all out of her life now. She had him, and she wanted nothing else, but he didn't think it was right. It would have broken his heart if Gail had done that to him, although he knew that the Thayers had never been as close to her as he was to Gail.

Anne shrugged. “Mom said she had exams when I talked to her last week.” It was obvious she had no interest in calling Van. And she never called Valerie in L.A., she hadn't talked to her in months.

“You can still give her a call. She might have time for a quick drink.”

“I'll call her tonight.” But he already knew she would not. She would lie around, thinking, counting forward and back … fourteen days from … and the next morning she would wake up at the crack of dawn and take her temperature again. He wanted her to stop and just relax about it all. She was getting so uptight about it she was losing weight. He was thinking of taking her to Europe in July to take her mind off things, and he wanted Gail to come too, but she had a summer job with Pauline Trigère, and she refused to go anywhere.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” They were strolling up Madison Avenue toward where his meeting was, and he was trying to interest her in the European trip. He had to interest her in something. What if a baby never came, or it took years, she couldn't spend her whole life waiting for that, and it was beginning to dim the pleasure they had shared. It was all she could think about, all she could talk about sometimes, as though she could replace the baby she'd given up. And he didn't dare tell her that she never would, no more than he could replace his wife. He loved Anne just as much, but it was all different now, and once in a great while, there was still that empty ache of missing her, just as he knew that Anne would always regret that child. He would always remain a lonely void for her, which no one could fill, no husband, no child. He looked at her tenderly. “St. Tropez would be fun. We could rent a boat.” She smiled at him then, he did so much for her, and she was always aware of it.

“I'd love that. And I'm sorry I've been such a drip. I guess we both know why.”

“Yes, we do.” He stopped right on Madison Avenue and took her in his arms. “But you have to let Mother Nature take her own sweet time, and besides, it's fun trying, isn't it?”

“Yes.” She smiled at him. But he still remembered how she had cried when she got her last period, and the angry scene they'd had when she told him it was all Faye's fault. That if it hadn't been for her she would have had a three-and-a-half year-old son now, and Bill had looked so hurt…. “Is that what you want?” he had asked, and she had screamed, “Yes, it is.” He felt so sorry for her, he had even suggested they adopt a three-year-old boy, but she wanted their own. She wanted to have “her own baby” again. It was pointless to try and tell her she could never replace the one she'd given up. And she was determined to have a baby by Bill, immediately, if possible. Her mother suspected that when they had lunch one day, and the veiled look in her eyes accused Faye just as they had for years. She had never forgiven her, and possibly never would.

And now, on Madison Avenue, she looked sadly at Bill. “Do you think it'll ever happen?” She had asked him that a million times since January, and it had only been four months since their wedding day. They had used precautions until then, no thanks to her, he reminded her several times. But he knew why she wanted to be careless. It was the same thing again. That desperation to have a child, to fill the void, to relive the past differently this time. She had never forgiven herself for giving that child up, or Faye for making her….

“Yes, I think it will happen, little love. Six months from now you'll be wallowing around like a whale, telling me how miserable and uncomfortable you are, and hating me for it.” They both laughed and he kissed her again and left for his meeting, as she headed for Bloomingdale's, and it tore at her heart when she passed the racks of baby clothes. She stopped for just a moment and fingered them wistfully, wanting to buy something just for good luck, and then afraid it would jinx her instead. She remembered when she had bought little tiny pink shoes when she'd been pregnant before. She had been so convinced it would be a girl, Lionel and John had teased her about it.

The memory was still painful now, as she walked away, and it hurt to think of John. She wondered how Lionel was. They seldom spoke anymore. Things had never been the same since he had told her parents about Bill, and she seemed to have nothing to say to him now. The last she'd heard, he was still looking for a job at one of the studios, anxious to get back into film. She sighed, and took the escalator downstairs, there was a riot of color everywhere, silk flowers, patent-leather bags, bright suede belts in rainbow hues. She couldn't resist, and came home with bags of it, most of which she knew she'd never wear, unlike the diamond bracelet Bill gave her that night to ease the pain. He knew how unhappy she was about not getting pregnant yet. But he was sure she would. She was healthy and young and just trying too hard, and the doctor had told her as much. He told her so again the week before they went to St. Tropez. “Just relax and don't think of it,” he said, which was easy for him to say. He was fifty-one years old, and had learned to be more philosophical about life.

Deep down she was still upset but for the three weeks that they played on the beach at St. Tropez, Anne had never looked happier in her life. She wore blue jeans and espadrilles, bikinis and bright cotton shirts, and she let her hair go wild, in a haze of blond bleached even paler by the sun. She was a beautiful girl, and growing prettier by the day. And he was pleased to see she had even gained a little weight, and when they went to Cannes to shop, she didn't fit into her usual size, she had to move up one. And he teased her when she had trouble zipping up her jeans again. He told her she was getting fat, but a question dawned which he didn't even dare voice to her. And in Paris he was sure of it when she was too tired to walk along the Seine, fell asleep on the way to Coq Hardi for lunch, and turned green when he suggested a Dubonnet. He didn't say a word to her, but protected her like a mother hen with a chick, and when they got back to L.A., he reminded her that she hadn't had a period since they left a month before. For the first time in six months, she hadn't even thought of it, and suddenly her jaw dropped as she made rapid calculations in her head, and then grinned nervously at him.

“Do you think … ?” She didn't even dare say the words and he smiled gently at her. It hadn't taken so long after all. Six months wasn't long at all, except it had been to her, so anxious to conceive.

“Yes, I do, little one. I've thought it for the last few weeks but I didn't want to get your hopes up, so I didn't say anything.” She squealed and threw her arms around his neck, and he tried to calm her down. “Let's wait till we're sure, and then well celebrate.”

She went for the test the next day, and when she called them breathlessly that afternoon for the results, they were positive. She was so stunned, she just sat there and stared at the phone, and when Bill came home she still looked dazed, and he whooped with delight. And he noticed, as she wandered around in her bathing suit, that she had already subtly changed shape. She wasn't as angular as usual, everything seemed softer and more round.

“I am … I am … I am …” She was so excited she danced with glee, and he took her out to celebrate at the Beverly Hills Hotel, but she fell instantly to sleep, as he found himself dreaming of the baby they would have. He was caught up in it too, and he was thinking of transforming the guest room into a nursery. They could put another maid's room over the garage, and put one of the maids there … then put the nurse in what was now the maid's room … his mind whirled around all night as she slept, and the next day he came home for lunch to see how she was and celebrate again. It seemed to make no dent at all in their sex life, and she had never looked happier than she did then. And she constantly spoke of their “little boy,” as though it had to be a boy, to replace the one that was gone … he would have been almost four years old by then, Bill knew….

They spent Labor Day weekend quietly with friends. People were getting used to her now, and although they envied Bill, they didn't make as many cracks as they once did. And she looked more grown up than she had nine months before. Especially now, the pregnancy had given her a certain maturity.

They were planning to go to New York in the next few weeks, to see Gail, and the doctor said it was all right for Anne to go, but the day before they left, she began spotting lightly, and he put her to bed to rest. She was terrified of what it meant, but the doctor insisted that it happened all the time. Most women had some spotting in the first few months, it meant nothing at all, he said, except that after three days it hadn't stopped, and Bill was growing anxious now. He called another doctor he knew, who said the same thing. But Anne was strangely pale under her tan, mostly from fright. She barely moved from her bed all day long, except to go to the bathroom, and Bill came home for lunch every day to see how she was, and he left the office earlier than usual. They would just have to wait and see, both doctors said, but neither of them was concerned, until after a week of consistent bleeding, late one night she began to have terrible cramps. She woke up with a start, and grabbed Bill's arm. She was barely able to speak she was in such pain, and she felt as though a hot poker were forcing its way through her, pushing everything down between her legs and on her lower back. Bill called the doctor, frantically wrapped her in a blanket, and took her to the hospital. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she held his hand tight, as she lay in the emergency room. She begged him not to leave her, and the doctor let him stay, but it wasn't a pretty sight. She was in terrible pain and bleeding copiously, and within two hours, she lost the baby she had wanted so desperately, as she sobbed in Bill's arms.