Authors: Ruthe Ogilvie
Jay looked dubious. “You don’t seem very happy. If it’s so wonderful, why are you crying?”
Cammie gulped, and choked back the tears. “Well—I don’t really know. I guess it’s just that I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this, and I hate to be so far away from you.” She began to cry again.
Hildy was the first to speak. “Just tell us what it is, dear,” she encouraged her.
Cammie rose from the bed and
walked across the room to the window. She dabbed at
her eyes, and looked out. The ocean with its steady
crash of waves against the shore—something she could depend on
no matter what—somehow gave her the courage she needed. With
renewed resolution, she turned to face her parents. “I’m getting
married,” she announced.
There was a dead silence. “Who are you marrying?” Jay asked.
Cammie hesitated, then decided to come right out with it. “I’ve met a wonderful man. He’s a Count. We met one night at the gambling casino in Monte Carlo.”
Hildy opened her mouth to say something, but Cammie continued, afraid if she didn’t she might lose her nerve. “Mom, he’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s so handsome and kind and—and—” She groped for the right words to explain how she felt.
Jay’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t this a bit sudden? This is the first we’ve heard about him. How long have you known him?”
Cammie gulped uncertainly, and began to stutter the way she used to when she was a little girl, and wasn’t quite sure of herself. “W-well, I j-just m-met him l-last month.” She struggled to regain her composure.
* * *
Hildy immediately recognized the signs of Cammie’s uncertainty, and it worried her. This always happened when Cammie was about to make a mistake.
“B-but he l-loves me, and wants to m-marry me right away,” Cammie insisted. Her eyes filled with tears again. “It m-means I’ll be l-living in France. It’s so far away. I’ll be l-leaving m-my home here, and you two, and all m-my friends.” She started to tremble. “It’s hard. I guess th-that’s why I’m having d-doubts.”
“Honey,” Jay told her, “if you really loved him there would be no doubts. You’d be so sure, nothing could stop you.”
Hildy rose from the bed and started to pace. Up to now she had been silent. She had dreaded this day, and now it was here. Pictures from her past came flooding back. Her brief encounter with Gregory Wilcox; his sudden proposal; her discovery of his deviousness; his selfishness and cruelty; her disappointment in him, all flashed through her mind.
Why she equated this Count with Greg she didn’t know, but Cammie was a well known star, and she was aware that some men might try to exploit her daughter. Is now the time to tell Cammie about Greg?
She turned to Jay, deeply troubled. Sometimes words between them weren’t necessary. He understood, and nodded agreement.
“Cammie—” Hildy motioned for her to sit down. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, but it never seemed to be the right time. I think that time has come.”
Jay looked earnestly at Cammie. “I want you to listen very carefully to what your mother is about to tell you. Perhaps you can learn from her experience. You’re so young. It takes time to learn that not everyone who seems charming can be trusted. We learned the hard way, and because of it we almost lost out on our wonderful life together.”
Hildy took a deep breath, and told Cammie the whole story of Jay’s and her hair-raising experience—the result of placing their trust in a man who was anything but trustworthy—how Gregory Wilcox stole her musicals, “The Ginger Jar” and “La Fleur Rouge,” and Roger Fielding’s musical, “The Happy Heart”; how he placed a bomb on her plane when she was flying to Paris; how Zack, the detective Greg had hired to find her, had protected her when he found out about Greg’s devious intent to kill her; how Greg had kidnapped her and Roger and left them to die in the French Alps, just to save his own reputation and career; how Zack and Jay had saved them; and, finally, how Greg tried to shoot Hildy, and shot Jay by mistake—and this in a court of law where you’d think something like that could never happen.
“Appearances are no guarantee, honey,” Hildy told her daughter. “I thought because Gregory Wilcox was famous, handsome, and charming, and said he was anxious to help me, that he must be a fine man. I was wrong. I was infatuated with him—impressed by who he was—and your father and I almost lost our lives because of him. I was pregnant with you when I was kidnapped, and if Jay and Zack hadn’t found us in the Alps, you would never have been born.”
But it was clear that Cammie could see no comparison between Gregory Wilcox, and her beloved Count Francois Dubonnet, the man she was determined to marry. “Mom—Dad—he’s not at all like that!” she protested.
Hildy smiled in spite of herself. The similarity between Cammie and herself when she was that age, struck her forcefully. Her heart ached for her daughter. She wanted desperately to spare her the heartache she had suffered.
She recalled how tenaciously she had clung to believing the best about Gregory Wilcox, and how disillusioned she had felt when she was finally forced to accept the truth. She reminded herself that it had all worked out for her, and she must have faith that it would for Cammie, but this didn’t stop her from worrying. She was beginning to realize what every parent must learn sooner or later—that she couldn’t work out her child’s problems for her. She must let Cammie find her own way. Sometimes it’s only by experience that we learn, she thought reluctantly.
“When can we meet this Count?” Jay asked Cammie, trying hard not to sound like an overprotective father.
* * *
Cammie sighed with relief. Maybe they’re coming around, she thought hopefully. “He wants us to be married right away,” she answered, “so I’ve been hoping you’d return to Paris with me.” Hildy looked at Jay. “Maybe Zack could go with us,” she suggested.
Zack had always been good at correctly sizing up people. His intuition was as keen today as it had always been, and Hildy was depending on that now.
Cammie was hesitant. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the fear that someone besides Jess—maybe Zack—would raise doubts about Francois, and she wanted him so desperately that she couldn’t bear the thought that someone—anyone—might say something against him. She tried to hide her hesitance, but it showed clearly on her face.
“Honey, don’t you want Zack to meet him, too?” Hildy asked. “He’s practically one of the family, and I would think you’d want him there.”
Cammie shook off her fears and smiled. “Yes—of course I want him there. He’ll tell you Francois is okay. I know he will!”
“Could
you possibly wait until after Jenny’s and Peter’s anniversary party?”
Hildy asked her. “It’s only two weeks away, and we’d
hate to miss it.”
Cammie sighed impatiently. She wanted to get back to Paris and Francois as soon as possible, but it seemed like little enough for her parents to ask, as long as they were willing to fly to Paris immediately afterwards. “Of course,” she agreed. “I’ll call Francois and tell him. My understudy won’t mind filling in for me a little longer. She’s been itching to play the role, and she’ll love doing it for another two or three weeks. But—can we please fly to Paris as soon as the party is over?”
Jay nodded. “We’ll make arrangements right now,” he told her. “I’d better speak to Zack first and make sure it’s okay with him.” He left the room, and went downstairs where Zack and Roger were chatting.
As soon as Jay left, Cammie turned to Hildy. Her hopes were high in spite of the concerned expression on her mother’s face. She put her arm around her. “Hey, Mom, stop worrying. You’ve known I’d be getting married sometime.”
Hildy looked wistful. “I didn’t expect you’d be moving so far away. You’re so young. I only hope this isn’t a big mistake.”
“You sound just like Jess,” Cammie chided. “I’ve heard enough negatives from her.”
“Oh?” Hildy asked cautiously. “Did she tell you why?”
The minute Cammie said it, she wished she hadn’t. The last thing she wanted to do was to sow seeds of suspicion in her parents’ minds. “Oh—well—you know—the usual,” she replied, laughing nervously, trying to shrug it off. “She thinks he’s after my money, or some such stupid idea.”
Hildy averted her eyes. “You don’t think that’s possible?”
Cammie tried not to sound defensive. “She doesn’t really know him—not the way I do. He’s so rich it would make your head spin! He owns his own Chateau, a private plane he flies himself—you name it, he’s got it!” She turned and faced her mother. “Mom, he’s a great guy. He’s handsome, charming, and comes from a fine family.”
* * *
This information didn’t help Hildy much. Gregory Wilcox was handsome, charming, flew his own plane, and came from a fine family—and look what happened! Déjà vu! But lightning never strikes twice in the same place, she reminded herself. Nevertheless, a feeling of dread swept over her. She shivered as Jay returned to the room with Zack.
Zack held out his arms to Cammie. He chuckled as he hugged and congratulated her. “I can’t believe you’re not the same little bundle of joy I held in my arms when I visited the hospital twenty years ago. And now you’re thinking of getting married! Where did the time go?”
Cammie giggled. “Oh, you know,” she quipped. “‘Time flies when you’re having fun’!” She stopped giggling and became serious. “Thanks, Uncle Zack. I know you’ll like Francois when you meet him. And I’m glad you’re going with us.”
It almost seemed to Hildy that Cammie was trying to convince herself that she really did welcome Zack into their group flying to Paris to meet the Count. Not that Cammie didn’t want him there—she had always been close to him ever since she was born.
But Hildy could sense a fear on Cammie’s part, that perhaps Zack wouldn’t approve of Francois.
The following two weeks passed quickly for everyone except Cammie, who was anxious to return to Paris and her beloved Francois.
They were all staying at Jay’s and Hildy’s home in Scarsdale until it was time to go to California for Jenny’s and Peter’s celebration. They spent most of the time playing golf and visiting. And one night they went into New York City to attend the opening night of Roger Fielding’s latest musical, and for an early before-show-time dinner at the Rub-A-Dub-Pub, a popular restaurant near Central Park.
The day they were to fly to California, Roger Fielding flew in from Boston and met them at Kennedy Airport. The five of them boarded the plane together. Jenny and Peter were waiting for them at LAX—the Los Angeles Airport.
The drive to their home was just as spectacular as Hildy remembered. She and Jay had visited Jenny and Peter many times in the past twenty-one years, but the scenery never failed to thrill her, always as though she were seeing it for the first time. The sun sparkled on the crests of the waves as they drove along, and she could see the Santa Barbara and Anacapa Islands clearly outlined. The sun shone brightly, and the blue sky reflected an even deeper, electric blue in the ocean.
“You must be tired from your trip,” Jenny said as they entered the house. “Get into your bathing suits. We’ll have our own private party in the jacuzzi. We’ll sip wine and have a gabfest!”
“Sounds wonderful,” Hildy enthused, trying to snap out of the gloom that Cammie’s news had caused.
“I have to hear all about Francois!” Jenny said to Cammie.
A
How did you meet him? Did he attend one of your performances?”
Cammie laughed with delight. “I’ll tell you all about it when we’re in the jacuzzi,” she promised.
“What time does the party start?” Jay asked Peter.
“Jenny has planned it perfectly, as usual,” Peter replied, admiration in his voice. “We have plenty of time to relax beforehand. It’s only eleven AM, and the party doesn’t start until eight o’clock tonight.”
“We’ll have lunch out by the pool at one-thirty,” Jenny told them. “Now scoot! Get into your suits. We’ll have a good refreshing soak in the jacuzzi before we eat!”
By the time they reappeared, the maid had already brought the hors d’oeuvres and wine to be served beside the jacuzzi, and the butler was setting the table to serve, lunch buffet style.
Jenny, a glass in one hand and an hors d’oeuvre in the other, turned and faced Cammie. “Now—tell me all about it! How did you meet this Count? What does he look like? Come on,” she coaxed, “tell Aunt Jenny all about it!”
Cammie giggled.
Hildy made an extra special effort to hide her misgivings, as Cammie related the all too familiar story of how she met Francois at the gambling halls in Monte Carlo.
She hadn’t thought Cammie would be marrying so soon, now that her career was in high gear. Still, the last thing she wanted to do was to spoil the moment for her. She knew how close Cammie felt to “Aunt Jenny” and “Uncle Peter,” and she could see that Cammie was enjoying, confiding in Jenny. I just hope she knows what she’s doing, she prayed.
Jenny didn’t seem to notice Hildy’s trepidation. She was too busy being Cammie’s confidante.
Cammie was so excited she could hardly contain herself. “Oh, Aunt Jenny! I never thought I’d meet anyone so handsome and charming and—and—” She threw her hands up in a gesture that said she had run out of adjectives to describe him. “He’s just perfect! And I’m going to be a Countess! It’s more than I ever dared to hope for!”
Hildy sighed in resignation, deciding to hold her peace until she met him and had a chance to form a fair opinion.
After enjoying the hors d’oeuvres and wine and the delicious lunch, they decided to rest up for the evening’s festivities. They were in jet lag, and needed a nap to be in good shape for the celebration tonight.
The party started promptly at eight. It was a festive one! Many celebrities, associates of Peter, attended—not to mention Hildy, Jay, Cammie, and Roger—celebrities in their own right. And even though Zack wasn’t famous, many of them had used his services, and he mingled easily.
Dinner was served on the patio in the back yard facing the Pacific Ocean. The weather was typical for California—balmy, clear, and anything but humid. The pool sparkled from the outdoor lanterns, and the moonlight made a golden path on the water. The lights from Catalina Island seemed almost close enough to read by, as they twinkled a friendly greeting across the ocean.