Once in a Lifetime (34 page)

"You mean a lot to me too."

"It doesn't make much sense, does it? We've really never spent much time together. A bunch of talks at night in front of the fire, here at the school, and a lot of hours on the phone ..." His voice drifted off.

"Maybe that's enough. I feel as though I know you better than anyone else." It was that that was so amazing about him. She did know him. And she knew that he also knew her, as she really was, with her scars and fears and private terrors, and all her victories and strengths as well. She had let him see more of her than anyone else she'd ever known, even Justin. Justin saw the funny side, the bright side, the solid, strong part of her being, but he didn't know what Matthew knew, and she wasn't sure she'd trust him to yet. But she knew that she trusted Matthew with all her secrets and her entire soul. And yet it was Justin she lived with, Justin who slept on the other side of the gigantic bed in Bel-Air.

"Maybe one day, Daff ..." Matthew started to say something, and Daphne looked at him, startled, almost frightened. He changed his mind then. It wasn't time. "We'll have more time to spend together." It was a safe thing to say, yet nothing felt safe now. They were both treading on fresh ground and she sensed it. She watched him, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Be good to yourself in California, Daphne. Be happy. I hope things work out with your friend. And if you need me, I'm always here."

"You don't know how comforting that is, Matt." And she meant it. "I always know that if I need you, I can call." And then she smiled. "And if you need me, you call too."

"What does your friend think of that?" His eyes were only slightly worried.

"He teased me about it once." She laughed, it seemed foolish now. "He accused us of being lovers, but he didn't seem too upset by it. He's led kind of a ..." She searched for the right words, she didn't want to be unkind to Justin. "... a liberated life, shall we say, until he met me. I don't think he's too concerned about the past." Matthew felt a pang of something close to disappointment. "Don't ever be afraid to call me, Matt."

"I won't." He smiled, feeling as though his heart had been torn out. They walked inside then and she went upstairs to Andrew, and when she came downstairs again an hour later, Matthew could see the tears in her eyes.

"Boy, it's tough to leave again." She smiled at him bravely and he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'll be back soon."

"We're counting on it. And you know Andrew will be fine." She nodded, and he drove her to the inn a few minutes later to change and pick up her bags to go back to the airport. She had insisted that she could take a taxi to Boston, but Matthew wouldn't hear of it. He drove her back, just as he had driven her to New Hampshire a few days before, and they stood at the gate for a long moment, her eyes holding him tight and his searching hers.

"Take care of my baby for me, Matt." It was a lonely whisper as she tried not to cry, and then he threw caution to the winds and pulled her toward him, holding her for a long time like that as she drew on his strength and his friendship. She said nothing to him as she left, except as she stood in the doorway of the plane she signed to him, "I love you." He smiled broadly and signed back, and then she disappeared, back to L.A. and to Justin. And as Matthew walked back to his car he told himself he was crazy. Her life was too different from his, and always would be. He was nothing more than a teacher of deaf children, and she was Daphne Fields. For a moment he hated Justin Wakefield for everything he was, and everything Matt knew he wasn't, and then with a sigh he slipped into his car and went home, thinking every mile of the way of Daphne.

The plane touched down in L.A. at 1:30 in the morning L.A. time, and Daphne awoke with a start as they landed. For her it was 4:30 A.M. And she awoke with a heavy, lonely feeling, she had been dreaming of Matt and Andrew, playing in the garden with them at Howarth, and now she realized how far away she was again. For an instant she felt the same unbearable pain she had felt when she first left Andrew at Howarth. But as they landed she forced her mind back to Justin. She had to force her mind back to the present and what lay ahead, or she couldn't go on. But the memories of Andrew and Matthew seemed to stay with her. They were still too fresh in her head and she wasn't ready to let go. She didn't really want to be back yet. And yet, she reminded herself, she was coming home to Justin and all the thrills she felt in his arms. It was strange though, she felt as if she had been away not for three days, but for three months. Her two lives were so entirely separate that it was difficult to imagine leading both lives within the same week. And suddenly the thought of Justin was like thinking about a stranger.

She hadn't told the limousine to meet her at the airport, and she had told Barbara not to worry, that she would get home herself. She hadn't been able to reach Justin in three days because she didn't know the people he was staying with in San Francisco. But as she rode home in a cab she knew that in a few hours they'd all be back together. It was 2:00 A.M. by then, and they all had to be at the studio by 5:30. She realized as she walked in the front door that it wasn't even worth trying to go to sleep for two hours. She'd have to make do with the nap she'd taken on the plane.

The house was dark save for the lights that went on automatically each night to make the house look lived in even when it was deserted, and she walked inside thinking how strange it all looked. It seemed like someone else's house, not her own, and she realized again how far she'd flung herself. She walked into the living room and sat down, staring at the pool all lit up in the dark, and wondered how soon Justin would come home. And then she wandered slowly outside and thought of taking a swim. She looked down and saw a well-sculpted blue and white bikini top, two empty glasses, and a bottle of champagne. She wondered who might have left them there, and wondered if Barbara and Tom had used the pool while she was gone, but he had his own, and as she picked it up she saw that the brassiere was far too large for Barbara. She held it for a moment as her heart began to pound, and then she shook her head. It couldn't be. He wouldn't do a thing like that right here. She left it on a chair, trying not to think, and took the glasses and the champagne bottle into the kitchen and there she found a white lace blouse draped over one of the kitchen chairs. She smiled an ironic smile to herself, feeling like the Three Bears. "Who's been using my pool? ... Who's been sleeping in my bed? ..." She wandered into her bedroom with the thought, and found him there, the golden god, sprawled out naked and beautiful in their bed. He looked less than half his age, and she marveled at his looks again as she stood watching him and he didn't stir. Maybe he'd had a party before she came back and he'd been too tired to clean up the last of the debris. She felt suddenly guilty for what she'd thought, wondering if her confused feelings about Matthew made her want to think the worst of Justin. But that was wrong. She was in love with Justin, the golden god. As she took off her traveling clothes with a sigh, she felt an overwhelming longing for him. She lay down on the bed beside him for a time, but she couldn't sleep, and she didn't want to wake him by tossing around. At last she got up, and put on coffee at four o'clock, and half an hour later Barbara came in.

"Welcome home." She gave Daphne a hug with an enormous smile. "How's our boy?"

"Absolutely wonderful. You should see him ride his bike, and he's grown again, and he sent you his love." She looked sad for a moment as she sat down on the chair still draped with the lace blouse. "It was so hard to leave, Barb. I wish we weren't working so damn hard so he could come out for a visit. And yet, I know that if I work my ass off, I can move back to New York sooner. It's a kind of Catch-22, isn't it?"

Barbara nodded, she felt what Daphne was going through. "Maybe before or after Wyoming, Daff."

"That's what I told Matt."

"How was he?" Barbara searched her eyes, but there was nothing there she hadn't seen before, warmth, affection, interest, but nothing more. She was still in love with her Greek god, much to Barbara's chagrin.

"He's fine. As nice as ever." She said nothing more, and Barbara poured them both coffee and when Daphne got up she glanced at the chair.

"Is that yours?" Her eyes were suddenly grim.

"No. Justin must have had friends in to swim." The silence between them seemed to fill the room. "Have you and Tom been around?"

Barbara shook her head. "I came in every day to pick up the mail. You got two checks from Iris yesterday, but other than that it was all junk and bills."

"The new contract didn't come in yet?" She was signing with Harbor to do another book.

"No. They said not to expect it till next week."

"No rush, I can't touch it till we finish the movie anyway." Barbara nodded again and fought with herself for the hundredth time. Tom had told her to keep her mouth shut when Daphne got back, but every time she thought of Justin her stomach turned, and she had told Tom that she didn't owe the son of a bitch a thing.

"What made you ask if we'd been here?" Barbara averted her eyes and filled Daphne's cup again.

"Just curious. Someone used the pool. I found some wineglasses and an empty bottle of champagne." She didn't mention the bra.

"Maybe you ought to ask Justin about that." Her voice was unusually smooth and Daphne looked up at her. She was too tired to play games.

"Is there something I ought to know?" Her heart began to pound again. It wasn't a matter of Goldilocks this time. But Barbara said nothing at all, never taking her eyes from her friend's.

"I don't know."

"Was he here? I thought he went away."

"I think he stayed." But she was too vague. Barbara would have known if he had stayed in L.A., especially if she picked up the mail every day.

"Barb ..."

She held up a hand, fighting back a rush of pent-up fury once again. "Don't ask me, Daff." And then through clenched teeth, "Ask him."

"What exactly should I ask?"

Barbara couldn't take it anymore. She held up the blouse. "About this ... and the bra at the pool" --then Barbara had seen it too--"and the underpants in the front hall..." She was prepared to go on but Daphne stood up, feeling her knees go weak.

"That's enough!"

"Is it? Just how much shit are you going to take from him, Daff? I wasn't going to say anything when you got back, Tom told me it was none of my business but it is"--her eyes filled with tears--"because I love you, dammit. You're the best friend I've ever had." She turned her back on Daphne for a moment and when she turned to face her again her eyes were bleak. "Daphne, he had a woman staying here." There was an interminable silence in the room as Daphne listened to her heart pound and the clock tick and then her eyes met Barbara's with an expression Barbara had never seen.

"I'll take care of this, but I want to make one thing clear. You were right to tell me, Barb. And I appreciate what you feel. But this is between Justin and me. I'll handle it myself. And whatever happens, I don't want to discuss this with you again. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Daff ..." Her tears spilled onto her cheeks, and Daphne went to her and hugged her for a moment.

"It's okay, Barb. Why don't you go on to the studio in your, car." It was almost five o'clock and Tom had been letting her use one of his cars. "I'll meet you there in a while. And if I'm late, tell them that I just flew in from the East Coast."

"Will you be all right?" She dried her eyes, frightened by Daphne's sudden calm.

"I'm fine." Her eyes held Barbara's meaningfully, and then she walked out of the kitchen and closed the bedroom door. She walked over to where Justin lay and she touched him on the shoulder with a trembling hand. He stirred sleepily then, squinted his eyes, looked at the clock, and then realized she was in the room.

"Hi, babe. You're back."

"I am." She looked down at him and there was nothing friendly in her voice or face. She sat down in a chair across from the bed because she could no longer stand up and she stared at him. "What exactly went on around here while I was gone?" She got right to the point and he sat up, barely rumpled by a night's sleep, with a look of innocence and curiosity in his eyes.

"What do you mean? How was your kid, by the way?"

"He was fine. But right now I'm more interested in you. What have you been up to around here?"

"Nothing. Why?" He stretched and yawned, and smiled invitingly as he reached out and touched her naked leg. "I missed you, babe."

"Did you? What about the woman who stayed here while I was gone? I'll say one thing, she's got big tits. Her bra would fit over my head." But funny as she may have sounded, she was not amused, her eyes were hard as rocks and she pushed his hand away from her leg.

"I had some friends in, that's all. What's the big deal?" Suddenly she wondered if Barbara had been wrong. She would feel like a total jerk if he was telling the truth and had been falsely accused. Her eyes faltered for a moment and then she saw one of his discarded rubbers under the bed. She reached over, picked it up, and held it aloft like a trophy of sorts.

"What's this?"

"Beats me. Maybe someone slept here."

"Are you telling me it's not yours?" Her eyes never left his.

"Oh, for chrissake." He stood up in all his splendor and ran a hand through his golden hair. "What's with you? I was here alone for four days and I had some friends in. What's the matter, Daff"--his eyes glittered nastily--"don't I get pool privileges unless you're here?"

There was no other way to find out. "Barbara tells me there was someone staying here." But at her words he started, he hadn't known she was around.

"That bitch! How the fuck does she know anything? She wasn't here."

"She picked up my mail every day."

"She did?" His face grew pale. "Oh, Christ." He sat back down on the bed and dropped his face into his hands. He said nothing for a while and men he looked into Daphne's eyes. "All right, all right. I got a little crazy. That happens to me sometimes after I work that hard. It doesn't mean anything to me, Daff ... for chrissake ... you have a lot to learn about this business ... it drives you nuts after a while." But they were lame words and he knew it. There wasn't much he could say to her.