The Wedding (44 page)

She organized her paperwork to take it with her to read on the set, if necessary, and by six-thirty, she was gone. At seven, she was sitting with Carmen. But it was just as the producer said. Carmen was a disaster. She had sat home all weekend and cried over the tabloid story, and she was still in a deep depression about losing the baby.

You need to see a therapist, Allegra said calmly, as Carmen blew her nose for the thousandth time that morning.

They can't change anything. My baby's still gone, and these awful people print lies about me.

They print lies about everyone. You can't let that ruin your life and Alan's. You have to show them you don't care, and you have to show Alan you can take it. Do you think he wants to be stuck with a wimp for the rest of his life, who's buckling at the knees every time someone takes a potshot at you? Carmen, that's pathetic. She gave her a pep talk for hours, and watched her on the set. She was depressed, but she was still doing a good job whenever she was on camera. They had to give her that much.

Allegra was still there at ten o'clock, when someone came to tell her, on the closed set, that there was an urgent call being put through by her office. When she took the call in a soundproof room, it was Alice on the line. She said that she had an emergency call from Delilah Williams, the wedding consultant.

She's calling me here} Allegra asked in disbelief.

No, I am, Alice apologized. But she said it was an emergency of the highest order.

Is she out of her mind?

It sounds like a good possibility. Shall I put her through?

All right. As long as I'm here, go ahead, but don't track me down for her again, just take a message.

Allegra? The giant crane in purple intoned into the phone, sounding more ominous than anyone Allegra had ever heard. You haven't answered a single one of my phone calls. Her reproach was that of an irate lover. I know nothing about the cake, the tent, the music for the church, or the reception, for that matter, nor the color for the bridesmaids. She was clearly outraged. But not nearly so much as Allegra, who was absolutely livid.

Do you realize that you've called me on a closed set? Do you have any idea how inconvenient, not to mention inappropriate, that is? And the reason I haven't called you is that I've been too busy getting clients out of jail, into concert tours, and up on their feet for their movies. And the last thing I need is you bugging me about the bridesmaids.

Do you even know who they are yet? She sounded incensed, but Allegra was more so. She had work to do, and clients to take care of. She couldn't be bothered with this nonsense.

I have chosen the bridesmaids, Allegra conceded to her, unable to believe that this was their conversation, and it had been considered an emergency of the highest order. Did that refer to the cake, or the music? I'll have my secretary send you a list of the bridesmaids' names, Allegra said darkly, furious at having to be bothered.

We need to know their sizes, Delilah Williams said with equal determination. She was used to dealing with people like Allegra, doctors, lawyers, psychiatrists, celebrities, actresses, none of them capable of putting on a wedding they all thought they were too busy and important to plan one. But she could do it for them, and make them behave, if she had to. Do you have their sizes? she said in a voice that Allegra thought only female impersonators could muster.

Please have my secretary ask them.

Certainly, Delilah said, satisfied now with the communication. I can't believe you haven't found a dress yet, by the way. You'll really have to try harder.

I'm going back to work, Allegra barked at her, frustrated by how much the woman got on her nerves. She didn't want to be rude to her, but there seemed to be times when there was no option.

As soon as they hung up, she called her mother at the show, and she realized she was trembling when she heard her mother. If you don't call that woman off, Mom, I'm going to kill her.

What woman? The only one she could think of who deserved that, in her mind, was Elizabeth Coleson. But she didn't think Allegra knew about her.

What do you mean what woman?' I mean that buzzard you unleashed on me to plan the wedding. I'd rather hold it in the park and hand out hot dogs and Twinkies than have this woman call me on a closed set to discuss the music and the cake, and the color for the bridesmaids.' Mom, you can't do this to me.

Just trust me, dear. She'll do a beautiful job, and you'll be so happy. It was nearly impossible to imagine, and Allegra rolled her eyes, said good-bye to Blaire, and went back to Carmen.

Everything okay? For once, she looked concerned about something other than her own problems.

You wouldn't believe it, Allegra said, overwhelmed with exasperation.

Try me.

The wedding coordinator my mother hired was calling to bug me.

What? Carmen looked amused as she changed her makeup. Wedding coordinator? What's that?

What I did when I bought the wigs, and the polyester clothes, and the plastic bouquet for Vegas.

Is that what she's doing for you? Carmen looked amused for once and Allegra laughed.

I hope not. You never know though. You two were so smart to go to Vegas.

You can too, you know, she said. They had all loved it, and it seemed to make more and more sense for her and Jeff to do it too and avoid the whole wedding.

It would probably break my mother's heart, if I cheated her out of a wedding. But it would have been worth it, not to see Mary Hamilton again. In some ways, it was a powerful temptation.

In the end, she stayed with Carmen until lunch, and then went back to her office to get organized and sign some documents. She had to be at Suzanne Pearlman's office at two-thirty. They were meeting another set of parents, who had flown in from Chicago. It amazed Allegra now to realize how people flew around the country, looking for babies, interviewing girls who wanted to give their babies up, and being interviewed by them. It seemed to be a major preoccupation. But having seen how obsessed Carmen had been, over a fetus she'd only carried for two months and then lost, Allegra was beginning to understand it. It was an obsession with having, keeping, and acquiring babies.

She had told Sam she'd pick her up at home, and she drove through Bel Air on the way to Suzanne Pearlman's. Allegra was stunned by how much Sam had grown in a few days. She was seven months' pregnant and she really looked enormous. And somehow the odd contrast of it made her seem even younger.

How've you been? Allegra asked as Sam got in. She was wearing a short pink dress that accommodated the bulge, and sandals that wound up her legs, her long blond hair in pigtails, and huge sunglasses. She looked like Nabokov's Lolita.

Okay, Sam answered, with a nod and a kiss for her sister. She was grateful that she was going with her. She had already met several of the couples, and she hated doing it. It was always so awkward and she hadn't liked any of them. Maybe the Whitmans? But they weren't perfect either. How was New York?

Interesting, Allegra answered noncommittally, and Sam laughed. She knew her sister.

Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good.

It wasn't.

Was she a bitch? Yup. Totally. The human iceberg. She was really afraid that I might be Jewish. Can you believe that?

Wait till Daddy meets her. He'll love it.

I can't imagine ever seeing her again, except I know I have to. I don't know how Jeff turned out as normal as he did. It was a total mystery to her after meeting his mother.

Maybe he's adopted, she said sadly. Despite the banter, she couldn't forget where they were going or why. She was going to meet another set of prospective parents for her baby. And just thinking about it depressed her. She had tried telling Jimmy what it was like the last time she went, and this time he had offered to go with her, but she didn't think he should, and it might confuse them. They might think Jimmy was the baby's father. She was always willing to tell the prospective parents the little she knew of Jean-Luc, though it made her sound pretty flaky. He was tall and good-looking and blond, a photographer, and he was French, and about thirty. Which meant he was foreign, possibly talented, and attractive. Beyond that, she could tell them nothing. Whereabouts: unknown. She had no history to offer. They arrived at Suzanne's office ten minutes after Allegra picked Sam up, and they rode up in the elevator in silence.

She had a pleasant waiting room with artistic prints all done in cheerful colors, and there were stacks of magazines. There were two kinds: World of Interiors, Parenting Magazine, Vogue, Connaissance des Arts, Town & Country, Architectural Digest for the prospective parents, and Seventeen, Rolling Stone, Elle, Young and Modern, and even Mad for the mothers. But neither Allegra nor Sam chose a magazine, they just sat there and waited. And five minutes later, the receptionist asked them to come in. The couple from Chicago were already with Miss Pearlman.

But as soon as Sam saw them, she knew she didn't like them. They were nervous around her, and they talked a lot about the trips they liked to go on, their skiing, and their last trip to Europe. She was a flight attendant, and he was in insurance, and covered a large block of the Midwest. They didn't have kids, and they had tried in vitro fertilization, but it was too expensive in the long run, and they were tired of trying. They were stories Sam had heard a lot now.

What are you going to do with the baby when you travel? Sam asked them with a look of curiosity.

Leave it with a baby-sitter, the husband said.

Hire a nanny, the wife offered.

Why adopt a baby? Sam went right to the point, not unlike her older sister, and Allegra smiled as she watched her.

I'm thirty-eight, Janet's thirty-five, we both think it's time, he said, as though they were talking about buying a car. All our friends have kids, we live in the suburbs. They lived in Naperville, but none of that appeared to be reason enough to Sam to give them her baby. They were anything but appealing.

But do you really want one? She pressed on, and she could see that they were getting really uncomfortable with her questions.

If we didn't, we wouldn't be here, Janet said, trying to warm up to the girl, but not getting very far. They didn't like Sam either. She looked like a valley girl to them, and she seemed really pushy with her questions.

We get free tickets from the airline. We came out here for nothing, Paul said, as Sam looked at Allegra.

Are there any other questions you'd like to ask? Suzanne asked Sam. She could see that the interview wasn't going well and that Sam didn't like them.

No, I think that's fine, Sam said politely, and they went to wait in her other office. A few minutes later Suzanne came in to talk candidly to Sam and Allegra.

I hate them, Sam said bluntly the minute Suzanne walked into the room.

No kidding, Suzanne said, and laughed, lightening the moment. I figured that out myself. Why? Although she knew that too, but she was just checking.

They don't want a baby. They should buy a dog. They want to travel all the time, they get free airline tickets, they're going to dump it at the babysitter's, and they just want a kid because everyone else in the suburbs has one. Why don't they just move into the city and forget it? She was sharp. There were a lot of people out there who thought they wanted babies and really didn't. They wanted a sense of completion, or fulfillment; they wanted to put their marriage back together, or feel young again. They wanted a lot of things, but not a baby. And for them, having a baby or adopting one should not be the answer.

I won't give my baby to them, Sam said definitely, and Allegra flinched as she listened. Sam's pregnancy had suddenly become her baby. It was far more real now, and she was deeply attached to it, even if she pretended she wasn't.

I understand that, Suzanne said calmly. What about the Whitmans in Santa Barbara? They're very interested in you, Sam. They'd really like to pursue it.

I like them the best so far, she admitted, but I'm still thinking. It was like trying to put together a major movie deal with a seventeen-year-old producer, sometimes fifteen or even fourteen. Allegra was suddenly glad this wasn't her line of business.

What are you thinking about? Suzanne asked her.

I'm trying to decide if I really like them.

Why are you hesitating? This was what Suzanne was so good at. The mix and match of relinquishing mothers and adoptive parents.

I don't know, they're kind of old, Sam said honestly. They were both in their late thirties and they had never been able to have children.

They've had a lot of bad luck, Suzanne explained, more for Allegra's sake than Sam's. Sam knew this. She had come alone with her mother last time. Although Allegra usually tried to come with her, Blaire had come twice, and Simon hadn't come at all. He just couldn't do it. The prospect of his baby having one, and then giving it up on top of it, just broke his heart. He didn't want to hear it. Just seeing her right now was hard enough. She looked so swollen, like a little grape, and yet at the same time she was still so pretty, in some ways more so. Her face had filled out a little bit, and there was a softness to it that really made her look lovely.

The Whitmans are an unusual couple, Suzanne went on to explain in detail. They've had more bad luck than any adopting couple I've ever heard of. They tried to adopt two babies who were reclaimed by their natural parents before the adoptions were official. That was over ten years ago, and they decided not to try again. And then with the new technologies, they tried to get pregnant again. She's had fourteen miscarriages, and a stillbirth. Now they want to adopt again, and I really have to give them credit. But after all that, they're not quite as young as some of our adopting parents are, Sam. Maybe that's not such a terrible thing. Personally, I really like them. I think they've got an awful lot of spirit. But they were the kind of people Suzanne particularly did not want to play with. She didn't want to offer people like that babies whom mothers might eventually take back. That's why she had asked Allegra, right at the beginning, if Sam was sure about giving up her baby. But Sam was definite about it now. She had talked to Jimmy about it too. And she felt she had no other options.