Family Album (45 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Family Album
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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.

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