Star (54 page)

And little Zeb went to bed that night, thinking about her too. He was four and a half years old by then, and he had grinned at the TV as she said his name. “That’s my mom!” he announced, and handed his Coke to Jane while
he stared at her. He wondered what she was doing there, but Hiroko had told him that she would be home soon. They were all proud of her, and Brian Ford most of all. They shared a special relationship, and if he had been a younger man and his life had been different before they met, he would have let it go further with her than he was inclined to. What they had suited them both. It was simple and honest and clean. There was no deception, no lies, no commitments, no promises. Just their friendship and the fact that he enjoyed her company. She insisted on buying him dinner that night, and he took her dancing afterward. She said she was still in shock, but Brian wasn’t surprised she’d won. She deserved every bit of it, and he was happy because his picture had won too. It was a big night for both of them, and when he left her finally to go home, she sat quietly in her apartment, looking at the Oscar on the table where she’d set it down. It was an amazing tribute to her. An unforgettable night. It was her reward for coming back to Hollywood and doing it right this time, and she thought of her father, as she had earlier … and Spencer … and Zeb … the men she had loved best in her life, and two of them were gone now. But she had Zeb, and one day she would teach him what she had learned from all of them. To be honest, and decent, and work hard, to live well, and love with all your heart, no matter what the price, and never be afraid to follow your dreams, wherever they took you.

The election that year was an exciting one, and with Brian, Crystal got caught up in the excitement of it. He went east once or twice for campaign dinners, while she stayed to work on one of Brian’s new films. And he was filled with descriptions of the excitement in Washington when he got back. He was there when Jack Kennedy won, and a new era seemed to have dawned. The days of Camelot, with his pretty wife, their sweet little girl, and their brand-new baby boy.

Crystal spent Zeb’s fifth birthday with him, and when she got back to Hollywood she was surprised when she got her own invitation to the Inaugural Ball. She would be finished with her current film by then, but she still hesitated to go. There were old ghosts she wanted to avoid in Washington, and she was afraid she might run into Spencer.

“You have to,” Brian said. “It’s really an honor you can’t decline. And this is a special time.” He knew that like his time with her, it might never come again. He was
pleased for the young senator, and he wanted Crystal to meet them both. He pressed her so hard that in the end she agreed to go with him. It wasn’t easy for her deciding to go back. She had read that Spencer had just been appointed one of Kennedy’s aides, and she knew he’d be there. But she prayed only that the crowd would be so large they’d never meet. She didn’t want to see him again. It had been almost six years and much too long. She didn’t want to revive the longing again, and the pain. All she wanted was what she had, her memories of him, and Zeb, waiting for her whenever she could get free from work and go up to the ranch to be with him.

She bought her gown at Giorgio. It was silver and Brian whistled when she showed it to him, and then he laughed. “Well, you’ve done it, kid. You sure as hell look like a movie star in that.” It was in sharp contrast to the new First Lady’s subtly elegant gowns. But this had its own elegance, just as Crystal Wyatt did. The dress sparkled prettily at him, as he smiled and kissed her hand. He knew that her debut in presidential circles was going to be a smash. And it was.

The Inaugural Ball was far more beautiful than even she had dreamed. There were several parties, and actually two balls, and she thought the First Lady looked exquisite in her Oleg Cassini gown. There were crowds of onlookers everywhere, and Crystal was recognized and signed hundreds of autographs for her admirers in the crowd. Brian looked proud of her in his well-cut dinner jacket. He was fifty-nine that year, but more rugged-looking and handsomer than ever before.

“You look pretty good yourself,” she had teased as they dressed at the Statler Hotel. He had reserved a suite months before, and she had to admit she was glad she had agreed to go with him.

Their relationship was still exactly what it had been
from the first, a comfortable companionship and a discreet affair that most people still hadn’t figured out, but those who did kept very quiet. Crystal was deeply fond of him, and he met certain needs for her. He was someone real to talk to in Hollywood, and she often asked his advice about the ranch. And it was physically satisfying certainly, but there was no wild flame, no torment, no passion, no pain. Only the ease of being with a man she both respected and admired.

They went to both of the balls that night, and he introduced her to the President. She was struck by how handsome he was, standing beside his pretty, aristocratic wife. She looked very shy and had been speaking to someone in French, and when she was introduced to Crystal, she told her how much she liked her movies.

They danced late into the night, and it was when Brian went to get her wrap that she saw Spencer at last. He was standing near the door with several of the other men in the Cabinet, he was talking animatedly and laughing with some of the Secret Service men. She started to turn away, feeling a wave of yearning wash over her. She wanted Brian to come back, so they could leave, but he seemed to be taking forever. And as she turned away, the glimmer of her dress in the soft lights caught his eye, and he stopped talking. He excused himself, and a moment later he was standing there, looking down at her, as overwhelmed by her beauty as he had been before. He reached out and touched her arm with a gentle hand, as though to see if she were real. And she was. Almost too much so.

“Crystal …” It had been six years. Six long years, filled with hard times and good times, the ranch, and movies, and his baby.

“Hello, Spencer. I thought I’d see you here. Congratulations.” Her voice was quiet in the noisy room, but he
heard every word she said, and he thought she’d never looked lovelier than she did that night in the silver gown that molded her figure like a veil of ice over the beautiful body he still remembered.

“Thank you. You’ve come a long way.” He smiled. He meant it in more ways than one. The years had made her the big star she had once dreamed of becoming, and now that she was there, she enjoyed it. But it meant nothing compared to what she still felt for him. Just looking at him brought it all back, the joy and the pain, and the lifetime of longing she still felt for him. “Will you be here long?” he asked with casual interest.

“A few days.” She was purposely vague, praying he couldn’t hear her heartbeat. “I have to get back to California.” He nodded, and she wondered if he was still married. And on the other side of the room, Elizabeth was preening in all her glory. Her husband was one of Kennedy’s aides. At thirty-one, she had made it. The only woman in the room that she envied was married to the President, but even that dream might come true one day. Anything was possible now. Spencer was an important man, even to the Barclays.

“Where are you staying?”

She hesitated, and then thought it didn’t matter anyway. He had his own life now. And she had Brian. “At the Statler.”

He nodded, and Brian reappeared with her silver fox. She had no choice but to introduce the two men. Brian knew who he was, but they had never met before, and he wondered how Spencer knew Crystal. Her connection to Brian was obvious, but the look in Spencer’s eyes couldn’t be ignored. She said good night and they left, and in the limousine Brian found her strangely quiet, looking out at the snow falling softly. He didn’t say anything
to her until they got back to the room, and then he knew he had to ask her.

“How do you know Spencer Hill?” As far as he knew, she’d never been to Washington. He had seen him with Jack Kennedy the year before, and had instantly liked him. He was going to be a big man one day, he already was, and Brian knew how important he was to the young president.

Crystal looked vague as she unzipped her dress, and smiled at him, but her eyes were sad. He saw something there he had never seen in her before, a kind of raw pain that was almost beyond bearing. “I met him years ago, at my sister’s wedding. He served in the Pacific with my brother-in-law.” And then, turning away, “He defended me at the trial.” And suddenly, he knew. He had never been able to figure it out before. He walked slowly toward her and looked down at her with sad eyes.

“He’s the boy’s father, isn’t he?” There was a long pause, and then slowly she nodded, and turned away.

“Does he know?”

She shook her head. “And he never will. It’s a long story, but he has his own life, and a good future. Staying with me would have destroyed that for him.” She had given him the gift of freedom at the right time, and it was good to know it hadn’t been wasted. He had used it well.

“He’s still in love with you.” Brian sat down heavily as he talked to her. He had known it would come one day, but he was sorry anyway. He had seen Crystal’s eyes, and Spencer’s.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t even seen him in six years until this evening.”

But the next morning, when Brian was out at a political breakfast with friends, Spencer called her. She felt her heart race as he said her name, and told herself she was
stupid. He wanted to see her briefly before she left, but she insisted that she couldn’t.

“Crystal, please … for old times’ sake …” Old times that had given her a baby.

“I don’t think we should. What if some reporter saw you? It’s not worth it.”

“Let me worry about that. Please …” He was begging her, and she wanted to see him just as badly. But to what end? And even if Brian was right in suspecting that Spencer still cared for her, seeing him could only hurt Spencer. She tried to put him off again but he wouldn’t let her do it.

“All right, where?” She sounded nervous. She was afraid of both the press and Brian. He was never possessive about her, but she didn’t want to hurt him. Especially now that he knew. She had seen the sorrow in his eyes the night before, and she wanted to convince him that it wasn’t worth his worry. Spencer Hill was no longer in her life. And he never would be.

Spencer gave her the address of a little bar he knew, and she promised to meet him there at four o’clock. Brian was still out, and she took a taxi instead of the limousine he had left for her. She was afraid that the limo driver might talk to the press, if he recognized her or Spencer.

She wore a big fur hat and a fur coat, and a pair of dark glasses, and he was waiting for her when she got there. There was snow in his hair, which was grayer than the last time she saw him at the ranch. And as she looked at him, she couldn’t help but remember the way he had looked the first time they’d met, in his white flannel slacks and his blazer and red tie, his shining black hair and warm smile. He hadn’t changed much, but she had. At twenty-eight, the girl she had been at fourteen was all but forgotten.

“Thank you for coming.” He reached out and took her hand as they sat down. “I had to see you, Crystal.” She smiled, realizing again how like him his son was, the son he had never seen, and never would, the son who gave her life all its meaning, all its joy. “You’ve done so well,” he smiled, “I’ve seen all your movies.”

She laughed, feeling young again. “Who would have thought way back when …”

“I remember the first time you told me you wanted to be a movie star.” And then, “Do you still have the ranch?”

She nodded, “Boyd and Hiroko live there with me. I go back whenever I can.” … to see your son … our baby …

“I’d love to get back there sometime.” The thought of it made her tremble. But she knew that for four years at least he’d be much too busy even to think of going to the ranch.

And then she dared to ask him the question she’d wondered the night before. “Are you still married?” She’d read nothing of a divorce, and with Kennedy a Catholic she suspected he wasn’t, or he wouldn’t have been chosen for the job he had now.

He nodded pensively. “After a fashion. There was never anything there, and after I got back … she knew about us. The funny thing is she didn’t care. She wanted to stay married for her own reasons, which weren’t mine. And now she has what she wants,” he smiled and looked boyish again, “or at least she thinks so. Just like your being a movie star, her childhood dream was being married to someone important. We go our own ways, but she gives very nice parties.” He sounded not so much bitter as deeply disappointed. He had given up the woman he loved, and spent more than ten years married to a stranger. “I guess we all got what we wanted, didn’t we?”
The movie star, the President’s aide, and the wife of someone important. The only thing missing was what mattered most. The woman he had loved for fifteen years now. “When do you go back?”

“Tomorrow.”

“With Brian Ford?”

“Yes.” She looked him squarely in the eye. She knew what he wanted to know, but she didn’t want to tell him, and he didn’t want to ask. It was all much too painful.