Stardust (The Starlight Trilogy #3) (30 page)

Dressed in a silk negligee gifted to her by her husband, she slipped out of bed and walked barefoot into the hallway. The door to her right was ajar. She crept up to it and poked her head inside the room.

Aidan stood in the darkened nursery before a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Central Park, clad only in a pair of worn black jeans. A flurry of snow fell outside, dusting the glass with thick, white flakes. His sleep-tossed hair glowed copper in the moonlight.

Two-week-old Hannah Catherine Evans lay in his arms, held to his bare chest in a manner at odds with the strength flaunted by his physique. Aidan’s head was bowed to his sleeping daughter, who looked so tiny in comparison, dressed in her finest satin nightgown. He rocked her gently, humming the lullaby he wrote for her on the piano.

Although they had been married for over three years, Beth’s pregnancy came as a surprise. Aidan was moved to tears by the news, although he later confided he worried about his ability to be a good father. He wanted desperately to give his child all the love he missed out on after his mother died but felt the pressures he put on himself were so great he couldn’t possibly meet his own expectations. His biggest fear in life was failing as a parent, now that he was more confident in his role as a husband.

Moments like these reinforced the words Beth had assured him throughout her pregnancy. When Hannah was born, unconditional love and instinct took over, making up for all of their doubts and inexperience. Aidan was an excellent father. In fact, he spoiled Hannah terribly. It was endearing, especially since he still had the reputation of the surly, rebellious young actor from
Spike Rollins
, who enjoyed racing his sports cars and motorcycles through the streets of Manhattan—though he had toned down his speed when he learned of Hannah’s impending arrival.

If Beth thought Aidan was overprotective during their courtship and marriage, it was nothing compared to the guardianship he showed his daughter. The bond between them was already impenetrable. Beth often admired the two of them, wondering what she did to deserve such a blessed life.

The nursery fell silent as Aidan brushed his lips to Hannah’s forehead. “My beautiful girl,” he whispered. “I love you and your mother so very much.”

Following a gentle kiss to Hannah’s nose, Aidan turned his head to rest his cheek on her forehead. He closed his eyes and resumed his song while he swayed with her against the backdrop of the storm outside.

Beth smiled and tiptoed back to bed, where her husband’s lullaby ushered her into her own peaceful sleep.

October 1985

“Thank you, Mrs. Evans. It was a pleasure working with you.”

“The pleasure was mine.” Beth stood and shook the hand of Lester Harold, the CEO of the company publishing her memoir.

With the release of
Taking Flight: The Journey of Elizabeth Sutton
fast approaching, Beth was excited but also nervous. She’d toyed with the idea of writing her life story thus far for a while, but the task had intimidated her. Gathering over fifty years of memories was a tough feat. However, when Nathan Taggart put her in touch with Mr. Harold two years ago, they hit it off right away, giving her the motivation she needed to begin.

Mr. Harold’s assistant had recorded Beth’s experiences as she dictated them, and then he transcribed them. To assist her with the accuracy of some events, she referred to the journals and scrapbooks she had written and compiled over the years.

Once the book hit shelves, Beth would embark on a ten-city North American promotional tour, participating in in-store signings as well as television appearances on all the major networks. The buzz for her memoir was overwhelmingly positive, which was welcome news. There were times during the writing process when she wondered if anyone would care to read about her life. Advanced sales had already put her at the top of the
New York Times
Best Seller list. She couldn’t wait to get on the road and meet her fans.

Although Beth remained truthful in her memoir, she didn’t cover all the larger events in her life, such as what happened between her and Luther Mertz. She mentioned Mr. Mertz’s contention concerning her relationship with Aidan, but she didn’t broach the subject of his blackmail. Some details needed to stay private. Her autobiography was not a sleazy tell-all. If she didn’t have something nice to say about someone, she either referenced them in passing or skipped certain stories entirely. All of her milestones were covered, so she didn’t feel as if she was cheating her readers out of anything important.

Mr. Harold accompanied Beth to the door and they exchanged good-byes. A Lincoln Town Car waited for her in front of the midtown office building. Her driver, Sam, already had the back door open. For the last fifteen years, Sam had been a valued employee—honest, hardworking, and kind. Beth and Aidan had lucked out when he applied to work for them after retiring from a thirty-year career in law enforcement.

Gripping her coat close to shield herself from the crisp October wind, Beth greeted Sam with a smile. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Less than five minutes, Mrs. Evans.” He shared a grin, accentuating the lines in his face. “How did it go with Mr. Harold?”

“Wonderful.” A gust of wind blew down the street. Beth pushed the hair out of her eyes. “I still can’t believe I’m only a week away from the book’s release.”

“I must say, I’m looking forward to reading it myself.”

She patted his forearm. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“I have no doubt I will.”

“Ms. Sutton?” A young woman approached, smiling broadly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but, well, I saw you and really wanted to say hi.”

Beth smiled back. “Don’t worry. You’re not bothering me.”

“My mother and I saw you last year on Broadway. You were amazing.” The young woman wrung her hands. “I’ve caught some of your films on television as well. I’m a huge admirer.”

“Why, thank you.” Beth moved closer. “What’s your name?”

“Marcia. Marcia Potts.” She blushed. “A lot of my friends like Bo Derek and Farrah Fawcett, but you’re my favorite actress.”

“What a compliment.” Beth giggled. “I never thought I’d compete with a perfect
10
or one of Charlie’s Angels, especially at my age.”

Marcia nodded. “You definitely do. My favorite movie is
Golden Gloves
. You and Aidan Evans have such great chemistry. No wonder you’ve been married for so long.”

Beth’s smile widened. “I’ll make sure to tell him that. He’ll be flattered to know people still enjoy his earlier work.”

“Mr. Evans is a terrific actor and the original rebel. He truly paved the way for Warren Beatty, Jack Nicholson, Robert Redford…This list is endless.”

Beth laughed. “Aidan has always been a rule breaker. That’s for sure.”

Marcia removed a pen and notebook from her purse. “Do you mind if I get your autograph?”

“Not at all.”

While Sam waited patiently, Beth wrote a personalized note to Marcia and signed it. Legally, since April 1955, she was known as Elizabeth Evans to friends and family. Professionally, she still went by Elizabeth Sutton. Marie Bates would always be a part of her, too, though she dropped the name long ago.

Beth handed over her autograph. With a parting wave, Marcia continued down the street.

A doting twinkle danced in Sam’s eyes. “That was very nice of you. Not many people are so gracious to their fans.”

Beth shrugged. “If not for them, I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in today. I never forget that.”

Once she was settled in the backseat, Sam shut the door and sat behind the wheel. As usual, traffic was dreadful, but Beth wasn’t in a rush.

With the fall season officially settling into Manhattan, and Halloween approaching, residences and storefronts were decorated accordingly. Even after all this time, she adored New York—the energy, the culture, but most of all, the places in the city that held her favorite memories.

They passed the Marriott Hotel, which had been built after the Astor Theater was demolished in 1982, twenty-nine years after it premiered
Sparkling Meadow
, the film in which she played an innocent, young farm girl. Hollywood didn’t make many motion pictures like that anymore. Nowadays, grittier films dominated the box office. It was a trend that began in the 1960s—a decade, in her personal experience, that had seen the greatest change.

The 1960s started with The Beatles singing songs with innocent titles like, “I Want To Hold Your Hand”. By the latter part of the decade, sex, drugs, and edgier rock and roll reigned supreme. Artists were creating music beyond what anyone had experimented with previously, resulting in some of the most exciting songs in history. The end of the space race in July 1969 also forever changed people’s perceptions of what was possible. Neil Armstrong’s walk on the moon proved that mankind’s potential wasn’t limited to the sky, but the infinite space beyond.

Clarke Gable died in 1960, and Marilyn Monroe in 1962, taking with them much of the glamour of past eras. The assassinations of President John Kennedy in 1963, followed by the Martin Luther King Junior and Robert Kennedy in 1968 further challenged the American dream. The Vietnam War divided Americans politically, and the hippy movement escalated, celebrated by countercultural events like Woodstock in 1969.

Hollywood changed as well, following the shift in culture. After the shocking and horrific Tate-LaBianca murders in 1969, celebrities no longer felt safe. Although Beth and Aidan hadn’t lived in Los Angeles in years, they felt the effects when they traveled there for business. When they resided in L.A., most celebrities lived in houses lined along the street with their front doors easily accessible from the sidewalk, and they rarely worried about an invasion of privacy. Celebrity homes bus and trolley tours existed then, too, but the organizers and tourists were always respectful. Unfortunately, the entertainment industry was no longer a close-knit community in L.A. Celebrities lived in mansions surrounded by high hedges, stone walls, or wooden fences, guarded by security teams, hiding from photographers, and sadly, their fans. The newer, rabid style of journalism out there today also contributed to the need for seclusion. Since the fall of the studio system, it became popular to expose the darkest secrets of celebrities. As a result, the press’s tactics grew more aggressive.

Beth and Aidan lived low-key lifestyles void of gossip-worthy stories, despite their popularity and success, but many others suffered greatly from these so-called exposés
.
It began with
Confidential
Magazine
in the 1950s and worsened during the hunt for photographs of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Now there were dozens of tabloids competing for the most revealing stories and pictures.

Politics merged with the entertainment industry in recent decades as well. The Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s Liberation Movement, and the election of former Starlight Studios contract star, Ronald Reagan, as President of the United States in 1981 were some examples. But the ultimate illustration of this merger was former President John Kennedy.

It didn’t matter what type of man President Kennedy really was, only what he displayed to the public. Additionally, people sensed a change on the horizon in the early 1960s and felt apprehensive about it. They needed a leader to whom they could turn for reassurance, and they believed the affluent Senator from Massachusetts with polished good looks was the ideal man for the job.

President Kennedy’s untimely death marked an end of a magical era, whose slow demise began with the fall of the fantasy, illusory world of Mr. Mertz’s studio system years earlier. After his assassination, President Kennedy achieved popularity of mammoth proportions, much like that of celebrities who passed away before their time. The question of what could have been was the mystery that fueled this exaltation. Because of the unknown—what great things President Kennedy might have accomplished for the country had he lived—the American people admired him more than they probably should.

Elia Kazan wrote the following after President Kennedy’s assassination:

One look at Jack told me he was an actor, too. He understood our way of life, shared our values, our morality. He was one of us. He even possessed the poise that an actor needs to carry a play, as well as that old leading man quality, dash.

Like those fellows who walk into Sardi’s and make every head turn, he enjoyed the adulation showered on him. He enjoyed being who he was. And now he is dead. A miserable, jealous little extra killed our leading man.

The Bay of Pigs? Forgotten.

Khrushchev and Vienna? So what?

Not since President Roosevelt’s death had there been such a catastrophic blow to the show people.

President Kennedy’s assassination changed the country drastically and left people feeling hopeless and adrift. It wasn’t just the death of a handsome, charming person who possessed leading man qualities with which Presidents Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon could never compete that affected the American people so much, but the loss of all he represented.

The American public related to President Kennedy. Yet at the same time, they thought he was above them. It was the ideal balance for a leader to possess, similar to what people admired about their favorite movie stars.

From her years in the entertainment industry, Beth had learned that the formula for success depended on performers’ abilities to display both perfection and vulnerability to their audience. These qualities gave people hope. Politicians—any public figure, for that matter—were no exception.

In some ways, Beth missed the days when movie stars were enigmas who provided the public an escape from everyday life. She didn’t prefer studio contracts and Luther Mertz’s reign, but she did prefer the type of films they made compared to now. Anyone could watch the less desirable aspects of real life on the nightly news. The cinema was supposed to be full of fantasy and fun. Yes, Starlight Studios had made many excellent, dramatic motion pictures as well, but a line was drawn to ensure the storylines weren’t too graphic.