Sins of Omission (41 page)

Bebe shook her head wearily. She hated the look on Eli's face. Poor, poor Eli. Tomorrow she would ask him why he hadn't invited Reuben.

The good-nights over, the Rosens piled into Eli's car. He ground the gears, knowing full well his father was thinking him inept and bungling. He pretended not to hear his father's muffled curse.

Bebe's first sight of the house in Benedict Canyon brought tears to her eyes. The mansion was ablaze in a soft light that spilled out and over the manicured shrubs, bathing them in a soft golden glow. She was home. Tonight she would sleep in her own bed, in her own room. She knew she would dream because she always dreamed when she was upset or overtired. Tonight she was both. Reuben would be in her dreams, and so would Eli. The two young men in her life—one strong and arrogant, the other weak and ineffectual. But
was
Reuben in her life? Of course he was, he would always be tied to her in one way or another. After all, he had stolen her most priceless gift, her virginity. She would never allow him to forget what he did to her.

Reuben Tarz belonged to her by right of rape.

Bebe was just about to turn out the light and snuggle into her covers when Eli appeared with two cups of hot cocoa. “Just like old times, eh? I always brought you cocoa, do you remember?”

“Eli, I haven't been gone for thirty years. Of course I remember. You want to talk, is that it?”

Eli set the cups down carefully. “If you aren't too tired. Did you have a good time this evening? I did it for you. I'm so glad you're home, Bebe. God, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Bebe lied. She wished he would leave; he was stinking up her room with his stale liquor breath, and he reeked of cigarette smoke. But he was her brother and she owed him at least her attention for a few minutes. She sighed wearily. “What's bothering you?”

“Tarz. Wait till you meet him. He'll bother you, too. He's goddamn taken over the studio. He's like horseshit, he's everywhere. Do this, do that…make this, don't make that…. He tells Pop what to do and Pop does it. He must have some kind of hold on him. He's a smart aleck, sis. Pop should have given me the chance to work with him. He's always grousing about what I do and don't do. Wouldn't you think he'd take me in and show me the ropes? Oh, no, he hires an outsider! Who the hell is that guy, anyway?”

Bebe pondered the question sleepily. “I guess he's someone who knows how to run a motion picture company. Everyone says he's doing a good job. Don't you think so?”

“What's that got to do with it? How does Pop know I wouldn't do a good job? He's never given me the chance. All the other studio heads hire sons and sons-in-law, why can't Pop? He hates me, that's why.”

“Blow your nose, Eli, and stop crying. Grown men don't cry. It…it isn't…manly.”

“You never minded before. You said if crying made me feel better, it was okay. You've changed, Bebe,” Eli accused her.

“I might have said that
then,
this is now. I'd bet Reuben Tarz never cried, even when he was a child. He has that look, if you know what I mean.”

“How do you know what he looks like? You've never seen him, have you?” Eli said, staring at his sister suspiciously.

“Oh, Eli, you are such a little boy,” Bebe said, thinking fast. “Everyone was talking about how he looks tonight. I just made up my own image of the man, and that image wouldn't cry. I'm so tired, sweetie, what say we call it a night. We have all day tomorrow to talk.”

“We didn't drink the cocoa. I thought this would be like old times…. Oh, all right, I'll go,” Eli said peevishly. At the door he turned. “It's you and
him
now, right? Before we were allies, now I'm on the outside looking in. Thanks, Bebe. Thanks for nothing.”

Bebe flung herself back into the nest of pillows after Eli had left. Damn. When was he going to grow up? She hadn't responded to the “him” because she didn't know if Eli meant her father or Reuben.

Why hadn't she admitted to knowing Reuben? To spare Eli's injured feelings? She wondered then if her father had mentioned that she knew Reuben. No, of course not, they never spoke to each other unless it was to complain about something. Certainly they never shared confidences or carried on a normal conversation. Poor, poor Eli. One of these days she would speak to Reuben about him. There must be something he could do at the studio. One more family member wouldn't make a difference.

Bebe tried to drift into sleep, but Eli was too much in her thoughts. At last she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Why me? she asked herself as she padded down the hall to Eli's room. She knocked softly and called his name, then opened the door a crack and called him again. “Go away!” came the muffled reply.

Oh, God, he's crying again. Bebe thought angrily as she pushed into the room. “Eli, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to. It's just that I'm bone tired. I was seasick so many times on the way over that I haven't fully recovered. Please, forgive me.” She kissed his splotchy face and winced at the puckered, angry-looking skin. She ran her hands through his hair the way she used to. She didn't remember his hair being so full of pomade, but then, she probably hadn't noticed a lot of things about Eli. She patted his back, trying to wipe the pomade on his pajama top. “It will be all right, Eli. I'll make sure it's all right. Go to sleep now. I'll stay here with you till you're sound asleep.”

Bebe stayed with her brother for a long time. When she finally got to her feet she thought fleetingly about the dismal state of her family. How would Eli react to the fact that he was an uncle, she wondered. You'll never know, Eli, that there's a little boy somewhere in France who's your nephew. She bent over to drop a kiss on her brother's cheek. The tears on his lashes revolted her. What was happening to her? She'd always loved Eli. No, she corrected herself, she'd pitied him, felt sorry for him, and tried her best to make things easy for him. Now all she wanted was to be out of his sight.

Back in her room, she found she still couldn't sleep, so she drank the cool cocoa. It was so sickeningly sweet, she gagged.

She punched at her pillow, trying to smooth out a place for her weary head. No matter what she thought about, no matter how she tried to shift her thoughts to other things, Reuben kept intruding. Eli had said something earlier in the evening about going away for the Labor Day weekend. A party Dickie Hastings was throwing. She'd said, of course, she would go and even offered to drive. A whole gang of people, Eli said, starlets and leading men. A bang-up weekend, and he was providing the liquor; of course, that's why he'd been included. On his own, Eli couldn't make it out the door. Bebe, Bebe, you are a nasty sister, she scolded herself. She punched at the pillow again and again. This time sleep welcomed her, her dreams full of demons and lovers.

 

Reuben Tarz sat alone, contemplating the ceiling. Daniel had gone to bed an hour before and as far as he could tell, he hadn't moved so much as a muscle since. He himself felt like he was in a stupor, emotionally paralyzed. He remembered his panic attack at the studio earlier in the day and the lengths he'd gone to to appear busy, certain that Bebe would burst into his office and say…what? Jesus, what was happening to him? What was he so afraid of?

Deep down, he knew. It was his one big fear. He'd refused to think about it, to bring the horrible thing to the surface of his mind, but he had to do it now: If Bebe told her father everything, Sol might kick his ass onto the street. Jesus, where would he go then? What would he do? What would happen to all the plans he'd made for Daniel to go to college?

At that moment he made a decision—one he hated himself for, but he made it nonetheless. He would woo Bebe. If he had to, he would get down on his knees and apologize. He would smile, he would beg, he would do…anything to keep his job at Fairmont.
And the ultimate end?
a small voice inside him queried. The ultimate end to any relationship between a man and a woman was…marriage. The thought so paralyzed him, he started to sweat. His breath came in feeble little gasps as he contemplated marriage to Bebe Rosen.
And Mickey?
the same little voice queried. Mickey was finished with him. He no longer mattered to her, was no part of her life. She hadn't responded to either him or to Daniel. Bitter tears of defeat burned his eyes. He wanted to cry then, not for his loss, because tears would never erase what he felt, but for what he'd hoped to gain and now would never realize.

When his emotions were under control, Reuben got stiffly to his feet. He cursed Bebe Rosen with every dirty word he knew, and then he cursed himself the same way.

When he slid beneath the covers, Reuben gathered the pillow close to his chest. The softness, the cleanness of the pillow slip reminded him of Mickey. His hands caressed the pillow as he gently lowered his head into the feathery down. A tear slipped from his eye, a single tear of loneliness. Mickey's name fell from his lips as he reached out for sleep.

On Thursday afternoon, Reuben met Bebe by accident. He'd rehearsed and schooled himself to act nonchalantly, but nothing prepared him for her breathless greeting and her genuine look of pleasure at seeing him. He forced a smile to his lips that was more of a grimace. “Welcome home, Bebe.”

Bebe's eyes were warm and full of excitement as she drank her fill of his lean good looks. “How are you, Reuben? You're the last person I expected to see on this studio lot. My father tells me you're doing a…remarkable job for the studio. I think that's wonderful!”

Reuben almost grinned. “This…nasty, arrogant man thanks you for the compliment.”

“Oh, poo, you heard me.” She waved a hand airily to dismiss the words. “I was just in a cranky mood. After all, I'd just arrived and hadn't even been home. Say you forgive me.”

“There's nothing to forgive. Sometimes I am arrogant and nasty. Did you enjoy your trip home?”

Bebe laughed, a tinkling sound Reuben remembered and didn't know why. Her perfume was still the same. He wanted to sniff, to smell his fill of her, but he caught himself.

“I was seasick most of the time.”

Reuben had sworn to himself that he wouldn't ask, but the words came unbidden to his lips. “How is Mickey? Daniel's been wondering how Jake is.”

“Mickey is just wonderful,” Bebe lied, watching his eyes. “I never saw a busier person. She allowed me to stay in the Paris house for a few months. I thought that was wonderfully kind of her. And Jake is doing just fine at Yvette and Henri's farm. I stopped to visit them. It was like old times except you and Daniel weren't there. I swear, Reuben, I think I was the only one who missed you two. Listen, I have to run. Tell Daniel I'll look him up in the next day or so. I can't wait to see him.” She blew him a kiss and was off before he could blink, her perfume drifting behind her.

Reuben stood staring after her, feeling foolish and a little angry. The worst was over. It didn't appear, at least on the surface, that Bebe was holding any grudges. He tried to analyze what she'd just said as he watched her wriggle her way to her car. Mickey was busy. No one missed him. Daniel's dog was at the farm. It was depressing dialogue.

He realized if he closed his eyes, he could picture exactly what Bebe had been wearing. A soft blue clinging dress with small pink flowers. It had a lace collar and puffy sleeves with lace around the edges. She wore the pearls they had given her. Her hair was different, lighter and puffy, soft looking. Beautiful. Damian Farrell had told him she should have been an actress; of course, it was hard sometimes to tell when Damian was serious.

“You look like a man in love,” Diego Diaz quipped as he strolled by, his mustache twitching.

Reuben put up his hands. “Not me, pal. Women are…”

“Wonderful!” Diego crooned. “I certainly don't ever want to be without a woman. Didn't anyone ever tell you love makes the world go round…and round. Of course, if you haven't been in love, you wouldn't know what I'm talking about. You do have that look, though.”

Reuben waited while a parade of full-dress Indians passed, only to be followed by a squad of soldiers leading horses. Patience was never one of his better virtues. Instead of waiting and enjoying the warmth of the sun, he chose to leap over a low wall and go around Studio B. He took the steps two at a time and bumped into Daniel, who was about to open his office door.

“Reuben,” Daniel said, smiling. “What's up?”

“Why do you ask?”

Daniel shrugged. “You look…different. Is anything wrong?”

“What the devil could be wrong? You're the second person who said I look different. Maybe it's the way I combed my hair this morning.”

Daniel peered at him. “No, it's your eyes. They look…sort of excited. Look, I wanted to let you know that Jane showed up on time and did an incredible job today. She's okay.”

Reuben nodded. “That's good,” he said abstractedly. “Oh, by the way, I ran into Bebe a little while ago and she said to tell you she's going to look you up in a day or so. She's eager to see you. She said Mickey is fine and very busy and Jake is at Yvette and Henri's farm and doing well.”

So that was it. Daniel did his best to hide his surprise. “I'll look forward to seeing her. See you later, Reuben.”

Reuben marched into the small lavatory that separated his office from Sol's and stared into the mirror. A look of disgust washed over his face. He couldn't see anything different about himself. Now, if Bebe had said he looked different, he would have believed it. Women had a knack for that sort of thing.

It was going to rain again, Reuben decided hours later, watching from his perch on the windowsill. He stared at the threatening cloud mass moving across the sky. If he hurried, he might be able to beat the deluge. On his way down the stairs, he called to Daniel, and the two of them left the studio together.

They barely made it to the apartment before the heavy downpour. Damn, thought Reuben. It would be just his luck to have the entire weekend spoiled with dismal wet skies.