All the Stars in the Heavens (34 page)

“You must keep this secret until you die,” she said softly.

“I will.” Niven sat down.

“I trust you because you've been loyal and kept my secrets.”

“And you mine.”

“And I always will.”

“What are you going to do?” Niven need not list the options. Young women in Hollywood terminated their pregnancies, or they hid for the duration, had the baby, and later gave it up for adoption, or they had a shotgun wedding. The choices in an out-of-wedlock pregnancy were very clear-cut; everyone knew them, and every girl had to choose, or the choice was made for her.

“My family keeps asking me what I'm going to do, when in fact it's already done.”

“What are you going to do, Gretch?”

“I'm going to have the baby.”

“Your sisters?”

“Pol and Sally cried. We won't tell Georgie.”

“Does Clark know?”

“My mother told him.”

“How did he react?”

“He says he loves me. David, even if he does, he's married. Ria won't let him go.”

“She'll have to.”

“It won't happen. Besides, he's moved on.”

“Elizabeth Allan means nothing to him.”

“There are others.”

“There will always be others. Hollywood is a candy store, and everybody is wearing a topcoat of powdered sugar. You can't take it personally, Gretchen.”

“I want a man who will love me and be true.”

“Oh, dear, that only happens in the movies. Wait. I know of one exception. I believe there is one man in Encino who has been faithful to his wife, and he died at the age of twenty-two after six hours
of marriage. They consummated their union, he had a massive heart attack, and that was that.”

Loretta laughed. “Is it that bad?”

“Worse. I'm a man, so I can vouch for it. So how are you going to do this?”

“I don't know. My sisters will be there for me. Mama. But can I count on you if I need you?”

“For anything. You have my heart and my life. Gable is my good friend.”

“He just plays the tough guy. He's really very sweet. He'll need a good friend. Will you look out for him?”

“I can do that.”

“You see, I love him, but I can't be with him. It will ruin everything. Our careers would be over. I can't risk it, and neither can he.”

“Wait, Gretchen. The studios are powerful. They can get him a quickie divorce.”

“We signed morals clauses.”

“Oh, you can rip those up.”

“Maybe he could—he would be forgiven, but not me. They'd run me out of town. I can't afford to lose my job. I have too many people who rely on me. I have to work. Mama and I will figure out the logistics. Alda will help us.”

Niv put his arms around Loretta. “My dear girl, I will keep your secret, if you will do something for me.”

Loretta looked at him.

“You mustn't tell anyone I slept with your cook Ruby. It was one of those things. She was lonely. And yes, I was lonely. We could hear the pool filter. It stirred us up. It gurgled, she gurgled, and I gurgled.”

“Oh, David.” Loretta laughed.

“I have to go, you see. Merle's temper is one thing, but Ruby is worse. She makes a terrible spurned lover. She wants to kill me with saturated fat.”

“Well, then, you have no choice.”

“Precisely.”

The
Ile de France
sailed out of New York Harbor, skimming the surface of the Hudson River like a delicate leaf. The art deco ocean liner was the chic cigarette case of transatlantic travel, sleek, simple, and gleaming with accents of gold brass. Painted white, trimmed in navy blue, with vivid red smokestacks, it was not only a celebration of the colors of France but the essence of its style.

Loretta stood on her balcony on the top deck as Alda unpacked inside the suite. Loretta looked back at Manhattan, its skyscrapers glistening in shades of silver against a purple sky. Loretta had dreamed of New York City, and now it was already behind her. Gladys brought Loretta a cup of tea on the balcony.

“Mama, where are we going?”

“We're going to land in Le Havre, and then I'll cross the channel to England and you'll go on to Italy.”

Gladys put her arm around Loretta's waist. “You didn't mean the boat, did you?”

Loretta shook her head.

“You take it one day at a time and do your best.”

“That's what you told me about acting.”

“You took that small piece of advice and turned it into an industry. That's all well and good. Your career is important because you built it. But now you're building something new. This baby will be the greatest love you've ever known.”

“But I'm not giving him a father.”

“Don't start his life by listing all the things he won't have.”

“I can't help it. Why did this happen to me, Mama? There must be a reason. Please don't say it's God's plan.”

“But it must be.”

“I prayed to fall in love with a good man who would marry me, and we'd have a family.”

“A woman is either lucky in love or work.”

“But not both. I fell in love with a man just like Daddy.”

“Most women do. Why don't you write to Clark? He's made a nuisance of himself trying to see you and talk to you. He told me he was happy when you were together. Were you happy on Mount Baker?”

“Mama, I forgot about everything when I was up there. I couldn't remember home, I didn't want to. I don't know how to describe it. And I was so cold.”

Gladys put her arms around her daughter. “That's why there are so many babies in the world. It's called winter.”

The night before the ship was to land in Le Havre, Loretta couldn't sleep. She left her mother and Alda in the suite and went out onto her balcony. She looked out over the breadth of the black ocean. The lights from the ship threw silver beams of light out on to the water that looked like oars. A full moon, icy white, hung low in the sky. It was as if the ship was heading for it, and would break through it like a stage curtain. The ship could not move fast enough for her as it crossed the Atlantic. Loretta wanted to get there, to someplace new, to see her life from a different perspective. Maybe she would find some wisdom there.

Loretta knew she should answer Clark's letters but she couldn't. It wasn't about whether she loved him or not, as her mother insisted, but whether their lives could ever amount to anything outside the few weeks they spent on Mount Baker. Last winter, she had all of his attention, and he had hers. But as soon as the train pulled into Los Angeles at the end of
The Call of the Wild
, it was clear to her that she had lost him.

A place has as much to do with the choices people make as the people themselves.

Gable behaved a certain way in Los Angeles; he was a movie star, entitled to all the perks that life provides, including willing women. Loretta knew she didn't stand a chance against that mighty system. She had seen great actresses who came before her try and fail.

Loretta believed Clark was persistent because she had rejected him. The moment she pulled him in, held him close, and needed him, he would be gone with the likes of Joan or Jean or Connie. He was a man who loved women, and she knew that always meant more than one.

The night air was cold and salty and clean. Loretta breathed deeply, something Spence had taught her to calm her nerves before
a scene. But it worked in life, as it did on the sound stage. It was difficult to leave her work life behind, even for a few months. Loretta longed for it already. It had been her purpose since she was four years old; it wasn't a habit or a way to make a living or even her identity, her work was part of her.

As she filled her lungs with breath, it soothed her anxiety. If she was to be alone on this path, she planned to cleave to her baby, give him a life so rich and full, he wouldn't miss his father. After all, she had done all right without one. Her son would too. Something told her she would have a son. She just knew it.

When Loretta saw Italy for the first time, the rolling hills of the Veneto were a soft moss green, tinged gold on the horizon in the late-afternoon light. The Italian sun flickered behind the trees as the sky turned apricot. The train chuffed along over low hills, passing a long, shallow stream that looked like a blue velvet ribbon.

“A few more minutes, and we'll be there,” Alda said quietly, looking out the window.

“You're nervous.” Loretta reached for Alda's hand. Despite the heat, her hand was cold and clammy.

“I haven't been home in eight years. I was a girl when I left Padua.”

“They'll remember you,” Loretta teased.

“I hope so.”

“Come on. Don't you want to see your father and your mother and your brothers?”

Alda nodded.

“So why aren't you happy?”

Alda searched for her handkerchief.

“Are they tears of joy? Maybe they're tears of joy,” Loretta reasoned. “I can't wait to see all the places you told me about. I can't wait to watch your father make grappa. I thought you'd be thrilled to finally get home.”

The train pulled into the station in Padua. Alda dropped the window glass and peered out. She found her family on the platform.

“Alda bella!” her mother called to her. Alda's three brothers
crossed the platform. They were younger than their sister, but slender and small, like her. Alda's father had a head of thick red hair with touches of gray. He was about five-nine, muscular and trim. He lifted Alda off the steps to the platform, then helped Loretta off the train.

Alda's mother was a birdlike brunette with black eyes. She wept as she held her daughter after so many years. The connection between the two of them made Loretta cry, and think of her own mother.

Soon Alda and her mother were talking over one another, rattling off news in Italian so rapid, it reminded Loretta of Bill Wellman, and how he'd shout “double time” when the actors delivered their lines to make them speak faster.

Loretta heard Luca's name. “He's an outstanding man,” Loretta told them. Alda happily translated.

Loretta understood Alda's apprehension now that she observed the reunion of her family. All families are broken to some extent, by grief and time; her own by divorce and abandonment; Alda's by a calling that was wholly spiritual, but had caused hurt to her mother and father. Loretta wondered if anyone got it right. Would she?

Alda gave her brothers a box of Hershey chocolate bars. They hugged their sister, gathered the luggage, and loaded it into a pushcart.

“Do you mind if we walk from here?” Alda asked. “Our house is not very far.”

Loretta followed the Ducci family through Padua into the old town. The winding cobblestone streets were lined with stucco houses painted in bright, hard candy colors, topped with clay roofs the color of cinnamon. Signore Ducci led his family under the porticoes festooned with hanging baskets of poppies.