Lovers and Liars (65 page)

“Oh, God!” Nancy said.

“Abe ruined your life, Nancy, not me,” Jack said. “It’s time you put the blame where it belonged.”

“Mom,” Belinda said, “I know you’ve hated Jack for a long time. I’m asking you to try and reach a truce—for my sake. And for our child’s sake.”

Nancy stared.

“You’re going to have a grandchild,” Jack said softly.

Nancy sat down. She started to weep.

And Mary Spazzio walked in.

132

“W
hat are you doing here?” Belinda was incredulous.

Mary tossed her mane of hair. “I have every right to be here,” she said, hands in her Montana jacket. Her glance wasn’t on Belinda but on Nancy, sitting and blowing her nose. “Is that
her?”

Belinda followed her gaze. “That’s my mother.”

Mary frowned. So that was Abe Glassman’s wife. She did an elaborate inventory. Ferragamo shoes, Chanel bag and suit, a couple of emeralds. Mary lifted her chin with disdain. “How is he?”

“Who?” Belinda asked blankly.

“Abe.”

“Abe? How do you know Abe?”

Mary grinned. “I guess you could say we’re friends.” She sauntered away, well aware that Belinda was watching her with amazement. She strolled right over to Nancy.

Nancy looked up, wiping her pink swollen nose with a
Kleenex. She wasn’t sure she could make it through this day. Abe hurt, the victim of some crazy driver. Belinda and Jack married, Belinda pregnant. Pregnant! Her insides were twisted into a tight knot, while at the same time she had this recurring image in her head—a tiny blond toddler dressed in white lace and pink ribbons running across Nancy’s foyer, shouting, “Grandma, Grandma!” Her granddaughter.

Then there was the shocking revelation that Jack had been too injured to come to her when she had miscarried. And he had cared. He had said so. It hadn’t all been lies.

She looked up at the pretty, voluptuous brunette in the purple Montana suit. The girl was smirking. Nancy wondered what she wanted and who she was. “Are you a friend of Belinda’s?” She had seen them talking together.

“I’m a friend of
Abe’s”

Nancy stared, and of course, not being a fool, she knew.

Mary’s smirk grew. She had just decided she was going to become the next Mrs. Glassman. It was definitely no contest. Abe would dump this old broad in a second—she had no doubts.

Nancy looked Mary over carefully and sighed. Another just-out-of-the-cradle bimbo, bovine and mindless. Would Abe ever grow up? And when had she stopped caring about his carnal escapades? “It’s nice to meet you,” she said politely.

Mary gaped, then looked angry.

Nancy did not feel threatened in the least.

133

“W
hat’s he doing here?” Abe roared.

Belinda and Jack stood side by side facing the bed.
Nancy was at Abe’s head, trying to calm him. “Abe, please, don’t upset yourself.”

“That little prick walks in here with my daughter, and you tell me not to get upset!” Abe shouted. “He has some nerve!”

“Stop it, Abe,” Belinda said, aware of an immense role reversal occurring. She was suddenly the adult, and Abe the child with the tantrum. “Jack is my husband. He’s here because I’m here.”

Abe fell back against the pillows, red-faced and out of breath. “After what he did to you, doll, we can have this annulled in no time!”

“We’re not getting an annulment,” Jack said grimly. “Or a divorce. So just relax.”

Abe turned to look at Belinda.

“Jack is my husband,” she repeated. “I love him. He loves me. End of that topic. How are you feeling, Abe?”

Abe’s eyes popped. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He snapped. “You’re thinking with your cunt again! You heard the tape! He’s only using you to get at me!”

“Jack
was
using me,” Belinda corrected her father, calm despite the provocation.

“I was pushed into your game, and I was playing by your rules,” Jack interjected. “But that’s not my style. And even while I was playing, I was in love with your daughter. Your game is over. Now
I’m
making the rules. And the rules say I can take you on and still love my wife. It’s going to be hard, but I’m not going to make a sacrifice of my own integrity. And I intend to keep Belinda out of this as much as is humanly possible.”

“You marry my daughter and think you can get away with it? You got another think coming!”

Jack leaned over the bed railing. “I’m not a fresh-faced kid anymore, Abe. If I were you, I’d think about that. I’m not afraid. And I’m not going to run. You’ve pushed me one time too many.
So watch out
—you’re in for the fight of your life.”

“Good!” Abe grinned. “ ’Cause I love a fight.”

“Are you ever going to grow up, Abe?” Belinda demanded.
“For my sake—could you give up this obsession with destroying Jack? For my sake.”

“Just what have you done for me?” Abe shouted. “You’ve done everything you could your whole life, to resist me. Living out in California, writing, for crissake, like some fucking hippie! What have you done for me?”

She couldn’t believe how calm she was. “Abe, don’t you care that when you cancelled
Outrage
to get at Jack, you hurt me too?”

Abe laughed. Disbelieving. “Sometimes you’re not so smart, Belinda. Your career is the last thing I wanted to see happen, so it all worked out for the best.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me. How in hell am I ever going to get you to settle down if you’re some hotshot writer? Settle down and give me my heir? Huh? I got enough problems keeping you in line without that added kink. And now this—now
him
. Jesus!”

“Then if you can’t give up this obsession for my sake,” Belinda said, “can you give it up for my baby—your grandchild?”

Abe blinked.

“Our baby.”

Abe stared.

Nervously Nancy interjected, “Belinda’s pregnant, dear.”

“Shut up!” he snarled, livid. He jammed his thumb at them. “Never! I don’t fucking believe it!”

Jack put his arm around Belinda, ignoring the furious man on the bed. “Let’s go, Belinda. He’s fine. There’s no point in staying.”

“One minute. You’re really going to hold onto this grudge against Jack—against the father of your grandchild?” She was disappointed.

“He thinks he’s won!” Abe shouted. “He got you pregnant just to get at me! Well, he hasn’t won—he’ll never win! Because I’m cutting you out of my will. You won’t get one red cent! And neither will the brat!”

“We don’t want a single penny,” Jack said, “although I know you won’t believe it.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Belinda said, overwhelmed with pity. “For cutting off your nose to spite your face. For being such a small man. For thinking only in black and white, in terms of winning and losing. This is my child—your grandchild—and no matter how much you hate Jack, you can’t change that fact.”

“Get out!” Abe roared. “Get out—now!”

“Abe,” Belinda said, “you’re my father. No matter what you do or what you’ve done, I can’t change that. And despite it all I love you. Even though you’ve never given me any love back. Love was all I wanted from you, ever—not the horse and the toys and the books. Just love. I do love you, but I love my unborn baby and Jack more. And when you see the light, when you become generous enough in spirit to forgive and forget, I’ll be waiting. And maybe then we can start over.”

Jack took her arm. They were out the door and in the hall when they heard Abe shout, “It’s you who’d better see the light, Belinda—and fast!”

Epilogue
March 1988
 

N
ew York City

    The sun was trying to pierce the thick layer of clouds.

It failed.

Belinda shivered despite her wool coat. Jack threw his arm around her. Even the ground was cold, frozen underfoot, penetrating the soles of her shoes. She stamped her feet; Jack pulled her closer. An icy blast of air touched their faces. “It won’t be much longer now,” Jack whispered. “Can you make it?”

“I’m only cold, Jack,” she whispered back, leaning against his warm hard body. “And I’m only pregnant. Not terminally ill.”