They spent Labor Day weekend quietly with friends. People were getting used to her now, and although they envied Bill, they didn't make as many cracks as they once did. And she looked more grown up than she had nine months before. Especially now, the pregnancy had given her a certain maturity.
They were planning to go to New York in the next few weeks, to see Gail, and the doctor said it was all right for Anne to go, but the day before they left, she began spotting lightly, and he put her to bed to rest. She was terrified of what it meant, but the doctor insisted that it happened all the time. Most women had some spotting in the first few months, it meant nothing at all, he said, except that after three days it hadn't stopped, and Bill was growing anxious now. He called another doctor he knew, who said the same thing. But Anne was strangely pale under her tan, mostly from fright. She barely moved from her bed all day long, except to go to the bathroom, and Bill came home for lunch every day to see how she was, and he left the office earlier than usual. They would just have to wait and see, both doctors said, but neither of them was concerned, until after a week of consistent bleeding, late one night she began to have terrible cramps. She woke up with a start, and grabbed Bill's arm. She was barely able to speak she was in such pain, and she felt as though a hot poker were forcing its way through her, pushing everything down between her legs and on her lower back. Bill called the doctor, frantically wrapped her in a blanket, and took her to the hospital. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she held his hand tight, as she lay in the emergency room. She begged him not to leave her, and the doctor let him stay, but it wasn't a pretty sight. She was in terrible pain and bleeding copiously, and within two hours, she lost the baby she had wanted so desperately, as she sobbed in Bill's arms.
They put her out and wheeled her away to do a quick D and C and when Anne woke up in the recovery room, Bill was there again, with grief-stricken eyes filled with concern as he held her hand. The doctor had said there was no explanation for it, some fetuses were just wrong and the body eliminated them. It was best that way he said. But Anne was inconsolable as she lay in bed at home for weeks. They told her she could get up, but she had no desire to at all. She lost fifteen pounds, looked like hell, and refused to talk to anyone or go anywhere. Eventually, Faye got word of it in a round-about way. Lionel called Anne to say hello, and Bill told him, and he called Faye, who in turn called Anne to see how she was, but she wouldn't speak to anyone, Bill said in despair. And she flatly refused to see Faye. She got hysterical when Bill even mentioned it, screaming again that it was all her fault, that if she hadn't made her give the other baby away, she would have him now. She hated everyone, even Bill at times, and it was November before he could get her to travel with him again, or go anywhere, and Gail was upset at how drawn she looked when she finally came to New York with Bill.
“She looks terrible.”
“I know.” He worried about her all the time, but there was nothing he could do except get her pregnant again, and that could take time. “She took it very hard.” It had already been two months and she never talked about it, but it was easy to see how the miscarriage had ravaged her, and even the jewelry he bought didn't excite her very much. Nothing did. Not even the trip to St. Moritz at Christmastime.
Finally, in January, she began to revive. It had been a terrible time for her, and the six weeks depression the doctor had predicted for her had turned into three months, but at least she was over it now, for the most part. She was back to her old life, of shopping and seeing a few friends. She called Gail in New York more often again now, and she had set up her temperature charts again, and this time it paid off in two short months. She found out she was pregnant on Valentine's Day, but this time the baby only lasted six weeks, and she lost it on the first of March, two weeks after she found out. Bill braced himself for what she would go through again, but she was quieter about it this time. Silent, withdrawn, she rarely mentioned it, even to him, and in some ways that worried him more. He would rather have seen her cry all the time, at least she would have gotten it out. Instead, there was something closed and dead in her eyes. She put the temperature charts away for good, threw the basal thermometer away, and talked about redoing the guest room in green or blue. It tore at his heart even more than the time before, but there was nothing he could do for her. Late one night, she confessed to him in the dark, that she thought it might be because of all the drugs she took several years before. But that was five years before, he reminded her, and he was convinced it had nothing to do with it. But she clung to her guilts and her regrets, and the memory of the relinquished child. It was obvious she believed she would never have one now, and he didn't even dare argue with her. It put a terrible silent pressure on him now whenever they made love, but at least she wasn't taking her temperature now. That was a relief of sorts.
She continued to avoid her parents like the plague, particularly Faye, and Bill brought her news of them from time to time. He had heard they were putting together an enormous package now, and looking for a star.
“Maybe they'll give Val the part,” he said to distract her one day as they ate lunch by the pool. Even if he hadn't given her a child, she reminded herself constantly, he had given her a beautiful life, and happiness. She was cared for as never before. And it was she who had failed him, she felt, not being able to give him a child. But it didn't seem to matter as much to him as it did to her, and she laughed now at his suggesting Val for her parents' film.
“Only if they're doing a horror picture and need a star with a fantastic scream.” She described Val's famous scream to him, and he laughed as he listened to her. She was coming out of it more quickly this time and he was relieved.
But the suggestion he had just made to his wife was not as outlandish as it seemed. In their offices, Faye and Ward had a hundred resumes spread around, and there was another fat stack of rejects on the floor. They had thought of everyone and no one was right for the part. They wanted someone new and fresh, and beautiful. Someone who seemed real. And Ward looked at Faye with the same idea Bill had had, only he was serious.
“Val?” Faye sighed deeply and looked intensely at Ward. “I don't think that's a good idea.” She had never put her own children into any of her films. For two decades she had kept her two worlds separate and now they were threatening to collide. Besides which, Val wasn't easy, and she and Faye seldom got along. Besides which, she had no experience with quality films. Yet, what a great gift to give her. “I don't know, Ward …”
“Well, we've thought of everyone else in this town. And unless you want to start looking in Europe or New York, we're going to have to start looking under flat rocks. Why don't you give it a try?”
“What if it doesn't work?”
“Then you fire her.”
“My own child?” She looked shocked.
“I don't think you'll have to.” Ward wouldn't let go of his idea. “This could change her whole life, Faye. It could be the chance she needs. The fact is that she's got the ability, she just hasn't had the vehicle.”
Faye smiled at him ruefully. “You sound like her agent. Baby, don't do this to me, Ward. She's not right for the part.” It wasn't true, but it would have been easier if it were.
“What makes you say that?” He took a framed photograph off his desk and handed it to Faye. “She has exactly the look you want, doesn't she?”
Faye smiled at her husband. “All right. I give up.” But she looked happier than she had in a very long time. Ward smiled in answer. He was proud of her, and they both knew it wasn't going to be easy. He was convinced that this was right, and he would do everything possible to help them.
And the truth was that he was right. Val did have exactly the look she wanted for the star, but what a challenge it would be to work with her own daughter. On the other hand, it could be the chance of a lifetime. For Val anyway.
Faye stood up with a smile, and Ward walked toward her. “You're terrific, do you know that?” He said it with a smile and Faye looked at him ruefully.
“Just be sure you tell that to your daughter.”
CHAPTER 40
“You want me to do what?” Val shrieked at her agent through the phone. She'd been sitting home doing her nails, wondering whether to go out to eat that night or not. There was nothing in the refrigerator as usual, but three of the girls had been talking about stopping at Chicken Delight on the way home, and Val didn't feel like going out. And she was sick of the men she'd been seeing lately. All they wanted was to get laid. And after a while it was all the same. She had given up her virginity six years before, and she couldn't even remember all the men she'd slept with anymore.
“I want you to read for Faye Thayer.” Her agent repeated again.
She started to laugh. “Do you realize who you called?” He had made a mistake obviously. “This is Val Thayer.” She wanted to add “you jerk,” but she restrained herself. She was going to read for another part later that week, in a movie about drugs. It wasn't much of a part, but it would pay the rent and it was something to do with herself. She wasn't ready to admit defeat yet. She had been acting for four years, and she knew she'd get a big break one of these days, though not reading for her Mom. That was the funniest thing she'd heard in months.
“I'm serious, Val. Your mother's office just called.” “You're out of your mind.” She put the bottle of nail polish down. “This is a joke. Right? Okay, so ha ha. Now why did you call?”
“I'm telling you why I called.” He was beginning to sound desperate. Faye Thayer's office didn't call him every day, and it made him nervous too. He was a small agent on Sunset Strip, and he supplied actors and actresses and models for B movies and horror films, soft porn, and live topless shows. Faye had been furious when Val said she had signed up with him. “She's serious, Val. They want you there tomorrow at nine o'clock.”
“What for?” She could feel sweat break out under her arms. Why would they call her agent and not her?
“They want you to read cold.” He had offered to pick up the script so Val could study it that night but they had refused, at least the secretary had. And she said that Mrs. Thayer wasn't available. Val was to report at 9 A.M. the next day, that was it. Were they interested or not? He had pounced on it of course, but now he had to convince Val.
“What am I supposed to read?”
“All I know is it's a part in her new film.” It was the strangest thing she'd ever heard, and she finally agreed to show up there the next day, but she couldn't resist calling home that night. Her parents were out, as it turned out, and the maid must have been off, because no one was there. It made her sad to call the house, there used to be so many people there, and now they were all gone. It was the same way Faye felt when they came home late at night. But all Val could think of tonight was the mysterious part she was supposed to read for the next day. She hardly slept all night, and she was up at six o'clock the next day, washing and drying her hair, doing her face, checking her nails again. She decided to wear a plain black dress, just in case they were serious. It was a little dressy for nine o'clock and it was very low-cut, but her breasts were creamy and full, and her legs were long. It was the kind of outfit she would have worn to read for anyone else, so she decided not to do anything different for Faye Thayer. She tried to tell herself that this was no different than reading for anyone else, as she drove to the studio. But her hands were shaking as she pushed open the door, and she had taken so long to touch up her makeup and do her hair once that she was half an hour late when she arrived. The secretary looked at her disapprovingly, and she saw Faye check her watch as she walked in, and then glance at the low décolletage, but she looked at her daughter with a smile, and she seemed as nervous as Val was. Ward and two other men were sitting in another part of the room, conferring quietly, with tables spread all around, and photographs of other actresses that they were checking out. They glanced up once and she saw her father wink at her. But it was her mother she had to concentrate on now. Her mother, the woman she had always resented, who was finally giving her her big chance.
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