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Authors: C. S. Lakin

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BOOK: Innocent Little Crimes
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“Remember we used to talk late at night in
the dorms—dreaming about making it big and both of us laughing,
knowing we were nothings. Unattractive, with no family money to
help us along. Remember? Yet, you did it. You defied all the odds
and made it.”

Lila put her hand on Millie’s shoulder. Her
breath reeked of gin. “You want to know something, Mil? I never
tried to ‘make it.’ I was ‘made.’ A bunch of money-grubbing slime
buckets turned me into a product they could sell and paid me
obscene amounts of money. I fell into it.”

“You’re saying it was just luck?”

“Oh no, I had to work like hell. I had to
push and shove and backstab all along the way.” Lila laughed.
“You’ve gotta be a wolf to survive. In my business, they eat you
alive.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re happy.”

Lila looked at the people milling
around the room. “No one’s happy in this life. Or in this room.”
She paused. “Except maybe him.” She pointed at Davis. “And he
only
thinks
he’s
happy.”

The conversation was making Millie more
depressed than ever.

“You know, Mil,” Lila continued, “When we
were in college, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the whole
world. Getting to star in a play, being admired and respected by my
peers. Falling in love with the most handsome boy in school. Having
you for a close friend.”

When Lila stopped talking, guilt welled up in
Millie’s heart. “I really wasn’t a very good friend, Lila—”

“No, you weren’t.” Anger spilled from Lila’s
voice. “It took me a lot of years to realize the truth.”

Millie was afraid to ask. “What truth?”

“That I wasn’t ever really happy. Like
Davis, I only
thought
I
was.”

Before Millie had a chance to respond, Lila
stood up and yanked on her arm. “Come, Mil. No party-pooping
allowed. No dieting either. Let’s stuff our faces. And then we can
play dress-up. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

 

Chapter 14

 

 

Della, stoned and drunk, reached for the
couch. She fell back into the cushions, almost landing on Millie,
and surveyed the room that, only hours ago, had been clean and
elegant. Now, dishes littered the table tops and ashtrays
overflowed with cigarette butts. The remaining food lay strewn
across the table in a colorful mess. Lila and her guests had made a
sizable dent in the liquor supply.

Della’s gaze followed Lila dancing to a slow
ballad, hanging loosely on Peter’s steady arm. Across the room,
Davis, Dick, and Jon watched outtakes from Lila’s show on the
screen. Lila’s stereophonic voice boomed as the men bellowed with
laughter. Cynthia had long since retired to her room to read, but
Davis hadn’t noticed. Della watched, amused, when Cynthia tried to
tell him she was leaving. He just waved her off like a fly. Della
could tell her feelings were hurt, but Cynthia didn’t say a word.
So polite, such good manners. Della grunted. How did he fall for
such a boring Goody Two-Shoes?

Della’s head spun. She tried to light a
cigarette, but couldn’t get the match to strike. She dropped the
unlit smoke into her lap. Her stomach churned with continual
pain.

Millie reached over and touched her arm. “Are
you okay, Della? Do you want me to get you something? Some
water?”

“No thanks. Probably something I ate.” Or
didn’t eat.

Millie sat in silence. Della looked at the
men watching the tape. “I can’t believe you’ve stayed with him all
these years.”

“It hasn’t been so bad,” Millie said.

Della laughed. “And that’s all right for
you?”

“It’s better than being alone. And I have my
girls.”

“How old?”

“Sally’s fourteen and Debby’s seven.”

“So, you must have gotten pregnant right
after graduation.”

“Before.” She didn’t offer to explain why.
“What about you? Did you ever marry?”

“Are you kidding? But I always wanted kids.
Even though I knew I wouldn’t make a good mother.”

Millie bit her lip. “It’s hard, it really is.
I love my kids to death and I worry sick over them. But I don’t
know how to handle them. I’m not that great a parent.”

“But at least you were willing to commit. I
didn’t even get that far.”

“You still could.”

Della shook her head. “Millie, I’ve had four
abortions. The last one butchered me.” Her voice caught in her
throat. She forced back tears. “I can’t have kids. Why am I telling
you this?”

Millie shrugged. “Because I’m listening?”

“Yeah.” Della managed to light her cigarette
and took a long drag. “Well, I thought I’d find someone along the
way who really cared, you know? Someone who wouldn’t think of me as
just another lay.”

Della gestured to the men. “All these guys
are the same, and we all bought the lie—that men would save us from
our misery. Well, they don’t—they just compound it.” Della grew
sullen and stared out into space.

Millie got up and gathered plates and glasses
and took them into the kitchen. Della felt tears fill her eyes as
she watched Millie load the dishwasher. Maybe Millie did have a
rotten husband, but at least she had children. Two daughters.

A strange emotion washed over Della, one she
never expected to feel around Millie Ferrol.

Envy.

 

 

When Davis finally became aware that Cynthia
was no longer in the room, he grabbed his coat and left the house.
Della saw him leave, and on impulse, decided to follow him. She
hurried back to her room for her coat and scarf and raced after
him.

In the cold afternoon light, the ocean looked
forbidding and restless. The current pulled at the shore. Huge logs
rolled on the ebb tide as it sped through the channel between
islands. Della could see the outline of a number of small islands.
But the sea was barren of ships, the waves challenging anyone to
venture out. Overhead, clouds hung heavy with impending rain. As
Della, breathless and weak, followed Davis’s tracks in the sand,
intermittent drops splattered her face.

With the roar of the surf, Davis didn’t hear
Della call until she was only a few feet behind him. When he
turned, she nearly collapsed on him in fatigue. He took her arm and
held her until she caught her breath. The biting wind reddened his
cheeks and tangled his blond hair. Della found him unbearably
attractive. She kept hanging onto his arm.

“Della, what’s wrong?”


Nothing. Just needed to get some air.
I’ve been feeling pretty sick.”

Davis walked beside her, his hands in his
pockets. “You really ought to see a doctor.”

“I’ve seen too many. I just need to trade in
my body for a new one.”

Davis searched the terrain. “Did you see
where Cynthia went? None of the guys noticed her leave the living
room.”

“Maybe she’s looking for a way to get home.
Another house, someone with a phone.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He studied the
criss-crossing footprints by the volleyball court. “No offense, but
this weekend is a bust. I thought it would be fun hanging with the
old school buddies, but everyone’s changed so much.”

Della only nodded. Jon had been Davis’s best
friend in college, but Davis showed disgust with Jon’s egotistic
bragging. Dick was even worse. They had thought him really funny in
college; he always livened up a gathering. But now his desperation
to fit in and be accepted bordered on pathetic. And he was so nasty
to Millie. No, these friends didn’t mean anything to him any
more—or to Della.

They walked in silence for a while. Davis
fell in step alongside her. Her memory was rekindled by his smell,
the timbre of his voice, his laugh. She remembered the day she told
him about her childhood. About the man her mother had married
shortly after her father’s death. How he tormented her, and Della
had been too afraid to tell her mother. A mother so desperate to
hold onto her husband, she couldn’t hear Della’s cries for help.
And how she left home and waitressed at the famous Jewish resorts
in the Catskills, where her desire to act on stage bloomed.

Della told him about sneaking into the
Saturday night shows and falling in love with the glamour
surrounding the famous entertainers who performed there. She had
tried to persuade her aunt, the only person she loved, to send her
to Hollywood. But her aunt sent her to college instead, hocking her
valuables to make the tuition. Davis commented on the radically
different lives they had. He never had a dream to act; he only
signed up for Thespians for the easy credit. That was the moment he
looked at her differently, with compassion—and took her home with
him that night.


So, Della,” Davis said, stopping at
the water’s edge, “where do you go from here?”

“I haven’t a clue. If you want the real
truth, I have no money. No job. No place to live. My life is a
total bust.”

Davis narrowed his eyes. “If you need some
money, I’m sure I can swing something. I can help you get on your
feet. Get you set up in an apartment, give you a job.”

Della’s mouth fell open. “Why would you want
to go to all that trouble? I never did anything for you.”

“Hey, we’re old friends. You can pay me back
later. I don’t care.”

“No thanks. I don’t want to be in your
debt.”

The truth was, money alone wouldn’t solve her
problems. She couldn’t tell Davis how frightened she was at the
thought of living alone. All these years she always managed to find
someone to stay with—her brother, new acquaintances, people she met
in the theater. A spare bedroom in someone’s apartment,
house-sitting, taking care of someone’s dog while they traveled.
Doing all the menial scut work no one else wanted to do. She
couldn’t handle the responsibility of having to pay rent and bills
every month, be trapped in one place. She needed to be free to get
up and leave at a moment’s notice.

But, despite all she did for these “friends”
of hers, they inevitably tired of her; they took her hard work for
granted, the ingrates. They’d complain that she was leeching off
them, borrowing their cars, eating their food, giving token service
in return. Never mind that she sweated blood, putting up with their
annoying habits and demands.

Della reconsidered Davis’s offer. No, the
strings attached were too enmeshing. Especially if it meant she’d
have to work a regular job. Forget it.

Della sped up her pace to keep up with Davis,
who had turned back toward Lila’s house. “Davis, where do you think
we’d be, you and me, today, if we had stayed together?”

“Della, you know it never would have lasted.
I was crazy about you, but we both know the truth. We were in it
for the sex.”

His words stung. “Yeah, it was great . .
.”

“But it wasn’t enough.”

“It could have grown into something
more.”

“I don’t think so. We’re too different.”

“Come on, we’re more alike than you want to
believe. Maybe I used people, I’ll admit it. But I watched you in
school. Borrowing everyone’s notes. Getting girls to do your
homework for you. Charming the teachers so they’d give you better
grades. Even that whole thing with Lila. Just so you could get
everyone to admire you.”

“Hey, that ‘whole thing’ was your idea,
remember? You’re the one who suggested Lila play the lead. And it
was your idea to have me pretend—”

“—
I never made you do it. You wanted
to.”

Davis stopped her with his hand. “And I
didn’t know at the time you were getting into my best friend’s
pants. Face it Della, you used me. There was nothing solid in our
relationship.”

Tears filled Della’s eyes.
Damn him. Why is he saying all those hurtful
things?

“Oh, come on, Del. It was fifteen years ago.
We’ve grown up since then. Let’s be friends.” He paused. “I guess
Cynthie isn’t out here. She’s probably back at the house. Let’s
head back.” He took her arm and led her down the beach.

Della turned to Davis. The sun was beginning
to set and the light fading. Della looked into his eyes,
searching.

“Why did you come here, to this reunion?” she
asked.

“I don’t know. Just wanted to see everyone.
Wanted to see Lila, too. I was curious. And, frankly, I hoped I
could get her interested in investing in some real estate.”

Della forced a laugh. “And I came to ask her
for a job on her staff. Funny. Everyone wants something from Lila.
Or thinks she’ll help them out with their problems. And I bet Lila
knows it, too. But, maybe that’s how it is when you’re rich. You
probably figure everyone’s got a selfish motive in being your
friend.”

“It must be hard, having that much fame. Who
can you trust?”

“You know,” Della said, softening her voice,
“you’re really an okay guy.”

Davis took her arm as they walked.
“Thanks.”

“I should have stayed with you . . .”

“It’s all in the past. You can’t bring it all
back make it come out differently.”

Della stopped and held his arms. “Davis, I
miss you, I really do . . .” She stroked his cheek with her hand,
drawing her face close to his.

“Don’t. It worked in school, but it won’t
work now.” He pulled back. “I’m happy to help you
out—financially—but not this way. I’m sorry.”

Davis pried her fingers from his arm. She
pulled away and wiped her face. As they reached the boat dock, cold
rain fell from the sky.

“Okay, forget it,” Della said. “I don’t need
you. You were right to pick a kid like Cynthia. She’s so young and
naive, she’ll never figure you out. Not until it’s too late.”

Della turned and ran through the trees to the
castle.

“Della, wait, dammit.”

Lightning cracked and streaked the sky. The
rain pounded down in sheets. Davis pulled his coat over his head
and started to run. “What a basket case.”

BOOK: Innocent Little Crimes
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ads

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