Loving (33 page)

Take it easy, baby. We'll find something. I promise." She had reestablished her friendship with Mary and Seth and commiserated with Mary over the phone one day about her problem finding a house.

"I'm beginning to lose hope. This place is crazy."

"You'll find a place, honey. Meanwhile you're the bird of paradise again." She smiled into the phone. She had seen houses that looked like palazzi with swimming pools indoors and out, places with Grecian statues, and one house with fourteen pink marble baths. But finally she found it, and she returned home with a gleam of victory in her eyes.

"I found it, Ollie. I found it! Wait till you see!"

He did and it was perfect. A beautiful but elegant house way at the back of Beverly Hills. It managed somehow to look both stately and lovely without looking pretentious, a rarity in that part of town. It was a little larger than she had wanted, but it was so pretty, she didn't care. There were five bedrooms upstairs, and a tiny den of her own; downstairs there was a solarium, a living room, a dining room, a huge kitchen, and another cozy den. Basically they could use all of it. She would work upstairs and Ollie down, and she had decided to hire someone to help her with Alexander, so one of the bedrooms could be for her, which still left two unused.

"What'll we do with all the bedrooms, kiddo?" Ollie smiled at her as he started the car.

"Just use them as guest rooms, I guess." And then she looked worried. "Do you think it's too much house?"

"No, I think it's perfect, but I had something in mind when I asked."

"I already thought of that." She looked at him proudly. "The downstairs den is for you."

But he only laughed softly. "That wasn't what I meant."

"It isn't?" She looked startled, and then confused as they drove back to Malibu. "Then what did you mean?"

For a moment he seemed to hesitate, and then quietly he pulled the car off the road. He looked at her seriously for a long moment, and then he told her what had been on his mind for so long. "Bettina, I'd like us to have a baby."

"Are you serious?" But it was easy to see that he was.

"Yes, I am."

"Now?" But she had to do the movie ... and what if they put on her new play?

"I know, you're thinking about your work. But you said that you felt well when you were pregnant with Alexander. You could just write this screenplay while you're pregnant, and then I'll take care of it, and if we had to, we could hire a nurse."

"Is that fair to the baby?"

"I don't know. But I'll tell you one thing"--he looked at her in dead earnest--"I'd give that child all I have. Every moment, every scrap of laughter, every joy, every hour that I had to share."

"It means that much to you?" He nodded and she felt the pain of regret slice through her, but she slowly shook her head.

"Why? Because of your work?"

She sighed softly and shook her head. "No. I could probably manage that"

"Then what?" He pressed her, his desire for a child urging him on.

"No." She shook her head again, and then she faced him squarely, "No one is ever going to make me go through that again." For a long moment there was silence, and then gently he reached out and took her hand. He remembered the horror story she had told him only once.

"You wouldn't have to go through that, Bettina. I'd never let anyone do something like that to you again." But she remembered too well what John had said. He was going to be there for her too.

"I'm sorry, Ollie. I can't. I thought I made that clear to you in the beginning." She sighed as he started the car.

"You did. But I just didn't realize how much it would bother me." He looked over at her with a halfhearted smile. He was hurt by her answer and he would be for a long time. "You're a hell of a woman, Bettina, and there's nothing in this world I want more than your child." She felt like a beast but there was nothing she could say as they drove home. Eventually the talk turned to the new house, and the next day she put in a bid. A week later it was theirs.

"A little expensive," as she said to Mary over the phone, '"but wait till you see it, its gorgeous and we love it. We've decided to stay out here."

Mary was happy for her. Whatever she did. "How's Ollie doing with his new job?"

"Actually it's his old job, but he likes it." And there was a silence, as a shadow crossed Bettina's eyes. She hesitated for a moment, and then she sat down in the kitchen, the phone resting on her shoulder. She was alone in the house in Malibu for the morning, and she looked sadly out at the beach. "Mary, I've got a problem."

"What is it, love?"

"It's Ollie." Mary frowned as she listened. "He wants a kid."

"And you don't."

"That is the understatement of the year."

"Why? Your career?" Mary didn't sound judgmental about it. She would have understood.

"No, it's not that, it's--"

"Don't tell me, McCarney." Mary said it and almost snarled. But Bettina had to laugh.

"Jesus, I think you hate him more than I do."

"I do." And then her voice softened. "But that's no reason not to have a baby. I told you five years ago it would never be like that again. Or, Jesus, Betty, even if it turned out to be a disaster, with a decent doctor he'd give you a spinal and a bunch of shots, you wouldn't even know what hit you; you'd be punchy and numb and the next thing you'd know you'd have a brand-new baby in your arms." Bettina smiled as she listened.

"You make it sound nice."

It is nice."

I know. I love Alexander, and I know I'd love Ollie's child, but I just ... oh, Christ, Mary, I couldn't ..."

"I'll make a deal with you. What you do about this is your business, but if you get pregnant, I'll come down and be with you for the birth."

"As a nurse?" Bettina sounded intrigued.

"Either way. As a nurse or a buddy. Whatever you want, and whatever the doctor says. I'd probably be more useful to you as a buddy, but whatever you like. And you could have Ollie with you. You know even in five years a lot of things have changed. With all this talk about babies, you two thinking about getting married?"

"Hell, no." Bettina laughed.

"I didn't think so, but I just wondered."

"That one, at least, he's given up."

Then maybe hell give this one up too."

"Maybe." But Bettina didn't think so, and she wasn't totally sure that she wanted him to give it up. She had just turned thirty-four, and if she was ever going to have another baby, it was time.

They moved out of the purple beach house a month after their six-week lease had expired and they moved into their lovely new stone one, and for a little while they lived with empty halls. But Ivo had left Bettina all of his furniture from the apartment in New York, so she called the place where it was in storage and had it sent out to the Coast. Then she and Ollie did some shopping, went to some auctions, bought some curtains, and spent a whole day picking out rugs. And three weeks later the place was off to a good beginning. Ollie's things had arrived from the little apartment he'd given up in New York.

He never again mentioned the baby, but Bettina thought of it as she closed the larger of the two extra rooms. She didn't have time to spend turning them into guest rooms, she had to sit down and get to work on the movie script of her play. It seemed to take forever, and four months later she was still buried beneath a mountain of notes, and changes, and rough drafts in her little sun-filled room. It jutted straight out from their bedroom, and Ollie could hear her typing late at night as he drifted off to sleep. But it wasn't till after Christmas that he noticed how tired she looked.

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Why?" She looked surprised.

"I don't know. You look lousy."

"Gee, darling, thank you." And then she grinned at him. "What do you expect from me? I'm working my ass off on this damn thing."

"How's it coming?"

She sighed deeply and let herself fall into a comfortable chair. "I don't know. I think I'm almost finished, but I won't admit it to myself. I keep playing with it and playing with it, until I get it right."

"Have you shown it to anyone?" She shook her head. "Maybe you should."

"I'm afraid they won't understand what I'm doing."

"That's their business, baby. Why not try it?"

She nodded slowly. "Maybe I will."

Two weeks later she took his advice and gave it to Norton and the producers. They congratulated her on the completed script But instead of looking better, she was looking worse.

"How about going to the doctor?"

"I don't need one. All I need is sleep." And apparently she was right. For the next five days she barely came out from between the covers, not even to eat.

"Are you that exhausted?" He looked frankly worried, but he had to admit that she had worked like a demon for four and a half months.

She nodded. "More so. Everytime I wake up, all I want to do is go back to sleep."

But two days later he got nervous and insisted that she go to the doctor. He made the appointment for her, and she grumbled mightily when he picked her up and took her there after work.

"What's the big deal about going to the doctor?"

"I don't need one." He had also noticed that she was snappish, and she hardly ever ate. Tim just tired."

"Well, maybe he can do something to improve your mood." But she no longer laughed at his humor, and when she went into the doctor's office, for a moment Ollie had thought she was near tears. When she came out of the office, he was sure of it, and she didn't say a word. "Well?"

"I'm fine."

"Terrific. What made him decide that? Your charming disposition or the healthy glow in your eyes?"

"I don't think you're amusing. Can't you just leave me alone?" But when they walked into the house, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the downstairs study so they could be alone.

"I've had enough of this bullshit, Bettina. I want to know what the hell is going on."

"Nothing." But as she looked at him her lip trembled and her eyes filed with tears. Nothing! Okay?"

"No, not okay. You're lying. Now what did he say?" She started to turn away and he grabbed at her arm. "Bettina ... baby ... please.... " But she only closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Just leave me alone." Slowly he turned her toward him. Maybe it was something awful. A tremor ran through him as he tried to hide from the thought. He couldn't bear to lose her. His life would never be the same.

"Bettina?" Now his voice trembled too, but at last she faced him, the tears streaming from her eyes.

"I'm three and a half months pregnant, Ollie." And then, gulping, "I was so wrapped up in that damn screenplay that I never noticed. All I did was work day and night, and I never thought ..." She cried harder. "I can't even have an abortion. I'm two weeks too late."

He looked at her, momentarily in shock. "Would you have wanted one?"

But she only stared at him. "What does that matter now? I have no choice." And then, wrenching free from his grip on her, she ran from the room. A moment later he heard the door to their bedroom slam shut, and Alexander came running down the stairs.

"What's wrong with Mommy?"

"She's just tired."

But Alexander rolled his eyes in irritation. "Still?"'

"Yeah, tiger, still."

"Okay, want to come play?" But Ollie was feeling distracted and he shook his head vaguely. All he wanted was to be alone.

"How about later?"

The boy looked disgruntled. "But later I have to go to bed."

In that case"--Oliver stooped to give him a warm hug--"you're just going to have to excuse me. Shall I give you a rain check?" The boy nodded happily. That was one of the things he loved best With a flourish Ollie took out paper and pen and gave him a rain check. "Will that do it?"

"You bet."

As Alexander left the room to find his baby-sitter, Ollie sank slowly into a chair. He was still stunned about what Bettina had said about an abortion. Would she really have don't it? Would she have told him? How could she? But he forced himself to understand that that wasn't what was happening. She was having his baby ... his baby.... He found himself smiling slowly, and then frowning again, agonized about her. What if it was as bad as the last time? What if she never forgave him? How could he do that to her? He felt himself begin to panic, and then almost without thinking, he looked for her phone book and dialed the number in Mill Valley. They hardly knew each other, but he knew that she would help.

"Mary? This is Oliver Paxton in Los Angeles."

"Ollie?" There was a moment of silence. "Is something wrong?"

"I ... no ... that is ... yes." And then, with a sigh, he told her the whole tale. "I don't even know why I'm calling except that ... oh, Christ, I don't know, Mary, you're a nurse, you're a friend ... you were there last time ... oh, Jesus, do you think it'll kill her? ... I don't know what to say. She's hysterical. I have never seen her so upset."

Mary nodded as she listened. "She has a right to be."

"Was it as bad as she remembers?"

"No. It was probably considerably worse."

"Oh, my God." And then, hating himself for the words, he grabbed at the only straw. "Can't they do an abortion if she's three and a half months pregnant?"

"If they have to, but it's fairly dangerous." And then after a moment, "Is that what you really want?"

"It's what she wants. She said so." He sounded near tears.

"She's just frightened." And then slowly she told him what it had been like. It almost made him squirm. "She might have had a hard time anyway, but in essence it was all because of the doctor. He made it about as bad as it could get."

"Does she know that?"

"In her head, yes. In her gut, no. She's panicstricken about it. I know. We've discussed it before. She decided right then she'd never have another one. And if I'd gone through what she did, I'd have made that decision too. But, Ollie, this time it will be entirely different."

"How do you know that?"

"Any doctor can tell you that. In fact hers probably did."