A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA (25 page)

Instead, I allowed myself to be goaded by that dreadful woman into a display of
fury unworthy of a person who believes in self-control and disciplined thought. I
was driven to violence and subsequently humiliated by my actions.

Forgive me for that, for by giving in to my baser instincts I proved myself to be
as unworthy as the rest of them—no better than the shallow and superficial ghouls
with which Miss Winters surrounds herself.

You have asked me to accept your lifestyle and the man you call your ‘lover’.

You have broken my heart with these requests. How could I ever accept a vile
wretch who has seduced you into a life of wickedness—a life that can only end in
everlasting damnation? Oh, how I prayed that I could be the one to open your eyes
to the enormity of your sin, but by my act of arrogance I have made myself unworthy of the task. God condemns hubris, of which I am guilty. Only the righteous can
judge and subsequently save the sinner.

My life is over. I have no desire to live in this world filled with sinners, liars and
betrayers. Ultimately, one is judged by one’s successes or failures—and I have
failed to save my family from the paths of evil they have chosen to follow. I can
only now pray that you and your sisters will one day renounce your lies and
wicked ways, for I can no longer protect you. God help you all,
Your Mother

Emily put the letter down and looked at her brother, who sat with Justin by his side. “My God,” she said, her voice edged with bitterness. “Even in her last hour she couldn’t face the truth. She just could not bear to admit that our lives were made hell by her denial. Talk about perversity…”

Anthony took the letter, folded it and placed it carefully in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Have you called Paula?” he asked.

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“Yes. She said she’d come down for the funeral.”

“How did she take the news?”

“Like you’d expect. Surprised, more than anything else.”

Anthony looked away. “Am I the only one who will miss her?” His eyes filled with tears as Justin put his arm around him.

The heavy silence that followed his question hung in the air till Jerry, Emily’s husband, said gently; “Anthony, you have been the most loving son a mother could ever wish for. You have managed to forgive when others could not.”

“I couldn’t save her, though. I couldn’t make her see that what we all wanted was to be a truly loving family.”

“Anthony…” Emily reached for her brother’s hand and held it tightly. “As hard as it is to accept, the fact is our mother did not love us—she resented us.

Oh, she loved you in her own way, much more than she ever cared for Paula and me—but it was a love bound by conditions—conditions she demanded were met at all times. You found your own life; a life that brought you happiness…”

“I just wanted her to be a part of it,” Anthony said. “I wanted her to share in our happiness—to be a part of all our lives.”

“I know, Anthony, I know,” Emily sighed. “I’m afraid that she just could not bring herself to admit that perhaps she was wrong. This obsession with religion blinded her to what the real problems were…”

“Some religion,” Justin interjected. “A religion based on hatred and intoler-ance, not on love and compassion.”

“Let’s not get into that right now,” Jerry said, quietly.

“Yeah, right—sorry.” Justin hugged Anthony to him as he spoke. “I get a little too over-protective at times.”

“And that’s OK…” Emily smiled at Justin. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that Anthony has you in his life.” She rose from the couch. “I’m going to fix us something to eat.”

“I’ll give you a hand.” Jerry followed her into the kitchen.

Anthony turned to Justin and kissed his cheek. “You can go on being over-protective for as long as you want,” he said with a small smile.

“Right now, it’s what you need,” Justin told him, holding him close. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through this. After the funeral, I’m going to take you away for a few days…” He fell quiet as a loud knocking sounded at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Jerry called from the hall.

“Maybe it’s Peter…”

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“Wouldn’t he call first?” Justin walked to the window and looked out. “Oh, my God, Anthony…reporters and TV cameras. Shit! Jerry, don’t open the door…”

His warning came too late as Jerry swung the door open and was blinded by flash bulbs popping in his face. Microphones were thrust at him as the reporters hurled a barrage of questions at him:

“Is it true your mother committed suicide because Olivia Winters threatened to sue her for assault and battery?”

“Did you know that Olivia Winters is going to air the segment with your mother assaulting her?”

Jerry stood, momentarily stunned by the chaos surrounding him, then he yelled angrily; “Get out of here, you morons…Back off now, before I call the police!” He slammed the door in their faces then, as they hammered at the door and rang the bell non-stop, he strode to the phone and dialed 911.

“My God,” Emily cried. “What do they want?”

“Give me the police,” Jerry snapped when the operator answered. He looked at Emily, and took her hand. “They want a story. They’ve obviously got wind of the fact that your mother was the woman who smacked Olivia on her show the other day. Jeez, this is going to be a mess.”

Eve, watching the local six o’clock news, was startled to see an even more startled Jerry on her TV screen. “Good heavens,” she murmured, turning up the volume. “What’s that about?”

“Police have revealed that Patricia Hastings, the Newport Beach woman who committed suicide yesterday, left a note blaming her decision to take her life on the daytime talk show host, Olivia Winters.” As the commentator continued with her dialogue, the station showed the same footage over and over of Jerry yelling at the gathered reporters and cameramen, before slamming the door on them. “Mrs. Hastings recently appeared as a guest on the Olivia Winters Show, and was involved in a shouting match and subsequent assault on Miss Winters. Today, Miss Winters’ representatives said the daytime diva had no comment to make. The show, featuring Mrs. Hastings has not been aired, as yet.”

Stunned, Eve reached for her phone and dialed Peter’s number at the gallery. He had told her earlier that he and Eric would be there later than usual as he had added an evening class to his already busy teaching schedule.

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“Hey Mom,” he chirped, seeing Eve’s name on his caller ID screen. “What’s up?”

“I’ve just seen Jerry on the television,” she exclaimed. “Apparently, their house is surrounded by TV people. He looked madder than a hornet.”

“Oh no,” Peter groaned. “This is just what they don’t need. Did he say anything?”

“He just called them a bunch of morons and slammed the door. Can’t say I blame him.”

“Lord, I think Anthony and Justin were going over there today,” Peter said.

“Anthony will be climbing walls with all this added pressure.”

“Well, thank goodness Jerry was there,” Eve remarked.

“Yeah, he can handle it. I’ll call Jeff and let him know. He might want to go over and lend moral support.”

“Good idea. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Will do, Mom. Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up and dialed Emily’s number. The answering machine clicked on, but as he began to leave a message, Emily picked up.

“Hi Peter,” she said. “You’ve heard, obviously.”

“Yeah, Mom called. She saw Jerry on the news. How are you all doing?”

“Well, it’s pandemonium out there. I can’t quite believe it. I guess the mention of Olivia’s name got them all excited. It’s so stupid…”

“Would you like Jeff to come over?”

“I don’t think he’d get through this mob…”

“Oh, he’d get through, all right.”

“Let me ask Jerry…”

“Hi Peter…” Jerry’s calm voice told Peter he had everything under control.

“I just wondered if you’d like Jeff to come over—lend some moral support?”

“Fine—if he can get here. That bunch of clowns out there has the street almost closed down.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes, ages ago. There’s one patrol car at the end of the street, but no one’s come to the house.”

“Let me call Jeff,” Peter said. “I’m sure there’s something he can do…”

“Okay…Maybe if he brings Nick, the two of them could clear a path…I’d gladly lend them a hand.”

“Okay, stay cool. I’ll call him right now.”

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Detective Louis McKenna answered his cell phone on the first ring. “McKenna.”

“It’s Jeff Stevens, McKenna. I need a favor. Peter just called me and…” Jeff informed the OC detective what was going on at the Lambert residence. “I’m going over there, but I think we need some uniforms to deal with the reporters.

They’re not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

“They never do,” McKenna groused. “They’re like leeches, man. I hate ’em.

Okay, I’ll see if I have a couple of free squad cars to break it up.”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Then solve the Luke Taylor murder for me. I’m getting flack from above, if you know what I mean…”

“Sure do. Man, Nick and I’ve been over and over that one. We’re missing something—something really simple, I know.”

“Well, if you can come up with that something, I’d be grateful. Nothing from Peter, huh?”

“Not yet, but I haven’t given up on him. He’s come through before like some wild card. Anyway, thanks for the help—I appreciate it.”

Jeff hung up and walked out into the reception area. “Monica, let Nick know I’ve gone over to Emily and Jerry’s place. I’ll call him later.”

“Trouble?” she asked.

“Reporters all over the place…”

He figured it would only take him a few minutes to get to their house, but as he neared their street, the traffic built up and he could see why. “Jeez,” he muttered, pulling over. He got out of his car and walked past the lines of television trucks that were blocking the entrance to the street. “Where the heck are the cops?” he muttered. “Excuse me,” he said, pushing past a group of onlookers.

He managed to force his way to the front of the house, but the sheer number of reporters crowding Jerry’s driveway made it impossible for him to reach the door. Angry neighbors were now out in force, yelling at the reporters to get the hell off their property, and being totally ignored by cameramen and reporters alike as they babbled incessantly into their microphones. In the middle of the confusion, he managed to slip past one of Jerry’s irate neighbors and jump the wall between the two properties.

“Hey!” somebody yelled, but he ignored whoever it was and leaped down into Jerry and Emily’s backyard. He ran across to their kitchen window and rapped on the glass. Jerry’s angry face appeared on the other side, then his expression cleared as he recognized him.

“Can you believe this crap?” he said, letting Jeff in by the kitchen door.

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“I got a hold of McKenna,” Jeff told him. “Remember him? He’s sending a couple of squad cars to break this up.”

“Thank goodness,” Emily said, giving Jeff a hug. “I can’t believe this is happening!”

Jeff looked at Anthony standing pale and still in the middle of the living room. “How are you, Anthony?”

“Ready to kill,” he replied. “I just cannot believe that those people out there are human beings. Don’t they know we’re mourning our dead mother? What kind of creeps are they?”

“Unfortunately, this is big news. Whenever a celebrity is involved in some kind of scandal, the press goes bananas.”

“God, I wish we’d never gotten involved with that show.” Anthony looked at him, his eyes filled with pain.

“I’m sorry, Anthony…”

“Oh, I’m not blaming you, Jeff. It all seemed like a good idea at the time—helping other kids to overcome their shame and humiliation—but now, it’s become a nightmare.”

“The cops are here, finally.” Justin, standing by the window, beckoned them over. They watched as the irate reporters were told to disperse. Some of them stubbornly refused to leave, stating their rights and arguing with the police that they could not force them to leave. One of them, more brazen than the others, marched up to the door and yelled; “Just give us a statement and we’ll get out of here…”

“I’ll give them a statement,” Anthony said, curtly. “One that they won’t want to hear.”

Before anyone could stop him, he ran to the door and pulled it open. The young man, who stood on the steps in front of him, muttered something into the microphone he held, then with an expectant look, thrust it toward Anthony.

“I have only this to say…” Anthony stared at the assembled crowd, his eyes filled with tears. “My mother died yesterday, and you people are besmirching her memory with this despicable display of disgusting behavior. She died because she could not live with the shame of what she had done—what she had been coerced into. In her innocence, she believed she would be treated with fairness and respect when she agreed to appear on the Olivia Winters Show. Instead, she found herself being ridiculed for what she believed in…”

He faltered for a moment, then continued. “If my mother had a fault, it was
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that she expected others to share her beliefs. She died for those beliefs…and I will miss her terribly…”

As Anthony broke down, Justin and Jeff moved to his side and pulled him away from the glare of the floodlights. The reporter, knowing this was the story that would grab the national headlines, leaped forward in front of Justin.

“You’re his boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Justin turned to face the man. “Yes, I am…”

“His mother had some pretty vile things to say about you. How do you feel about that? What would you say to her now, if you were face to face with her?”

Justin smiled and held Anthony close to him as he answered. “I would say; I love your son, Mrs. Hastings. He means everything in the world to me. I hope you understand that now.”