Sam was in the kitchen when Allegra came in, and it was hard not to notice how beautiful she had become in the past year. Suddenly, at seventeen and a half, she had grown into looks that had been striking before, but were now even more so. She had star quality, her father's associates said, and her mother always growled when they said it. Sam's first priority had always been school. Blaire didn't mind her having a small modeling career, but she wasn't very enthused at the idea of her youngest child becoming an actress. It was a rough career, and seeing what she did all around her every day, she was beginning to think she'd prefer it if Samantha stayed out of the business. But there wasn't much they could say to her. She had been exposed to it all her life, and for the moment, an acting career seemed to be all that Sam wanted. She had applied to UCLA, Northwestern, Yale, and NYU for what they had to offer in drama, and given her top grades, she had a good shot at all of them. But unlike Allegra a decade before, she didn't want to go East. She wanted to stay in L.A, and maybe even live at home. She wanted to go to UCLA, and she had already been accepted, through early admission.
She was eating an apple, when Allegra walked in on Friday night after the office, and her long blond hair hung down her back like a sheet of pale yellow-gold. Her eyes were huge and green like her sister's.
“Hi, kiddo. How's life?” Allegra looked happy to see her as she walked over, gave her a kiss, and put an arm around her shoulders.
“Not bad. I did some modeling this week. For an English photographer. He was cool. I like the foreign ones, they're nice to me. I modeled for a French one in November. He was on his way to Tokyo. This job was a layout for the L.A. Times. And I saw the rough cut of Dad's new movie.” Like all teenagers, she spoke in non sequiturs, but Allegra understood her.
“How was Dad's movie?” Allegra asked, helping herself to some carrot sticks, and giving Ellie a warm hug of greeting. She had been their cook for twenty years, and she shooed them both out of the kitchen.
“It was okay. It was hard to tell. They still had some of the scenes put in the wrong places. It looked pretty cool though.” And so did Sam. Allegra smiled to herself as the younger girl bounded upstairs. She was all legs and arms and hair; she was like a wild, beautiful young colt bounding over everything. She seemed so young, and yet so grown-up suddenly. It was hard to believe how fast it had gone, but she was almost a woman. When Allegra had left home for Yale eleven years before, Sam had only been six years old, and in some ways that was how they all still thought of her, as the baby.
“Is that you?” her mother called down the stairs, peeking over the banister, looking barely older than her daughters. The soft red hair was swept up on her head, and framed her face softly, with two pens stuck in it, and a pencil. She was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck, and high-top black Converse sneakers that she had bought for Sam, but Sam wouldn't wear them. Blaire looked like a kid, until you looked closer and saw how lovely she was, and how gently touched by age, and she had the same lanky figure as her daughters. “How are you, darling?” she asked, kissing Allegra and then hurrying off to answer the phone. It was Simon. He was late. He had a problem at the office, but he'd be home in time for dinner.
It was their closeness to each other which had saved them from the stresses of Hollywood over the years, that and the fact that she and Simon had a wonderful marriage. She seldom admitted it, but Blaire's life had been a shambles when she met him. She was in dark despair, and it seemed as though after they were married, everything changed for the better. Her career had taken off from there, their babies had come quickly and easily and been warmly welcomed. They loved their home, and their kids, their careers, and each other. There was absolutely nothing more that either of them would have added, except maybe more children. She'd been thirty-seven when Sam was born, and at the time that had almost seemed too old to her, so she stopped. And now she regretted not having had at least one more, but the three children they had gave them enormous joy, in spite of the occasional squabble with Samantha. Blaire knew she was a little spoiled, but she was a good girl. She did well at school, never really did anything wrong, and if she argued with her mother from time to time, it seemed appropriate to her age and her culture.
When Blaire hung up the phone, she went upstairs and saw Allegra staring out the window of her bedroom, and wandered in to see her.
“You can always come home whenever you want, you know,” she said softly, watching her oldest child looking surprisingly wistful. She wanted to ask her if something was wrong, but she didn't quite dare. Blaire was always worried that Allegra didn't get enough emotional support from Brandon. He was so independent about everything, and he seemed so unaware of Allegra's needs and feelings. Blaire had done her best to like him in the past two years, but she just didn't.
“Thanks, Mom.” Allegra smiled at her, and then lay spread-eagled on the big four-poster. Sometimes it felt great just being there, even if she only came home for a couple of hours, and sometimes she also resented the hold they still had on her. She was still so close to them, at times it worried her. She loved them so much, she had never cut ties that other women her age had long since severed. But why should she? Brandon complained that she was too close to them. He claimed that it was unhealthy, and not normal. But she got along so well with them, and they were so supportive of her. What was she supposed to do? Stop seeing them because she was turning thirty?
“Where's Brandon?” her mother asked, trying to sound casual. She had gotten Allegra's message that she was coming to dinner alone, and she had to admit, she was relieved, but of course she didn't say so. “Working late?”
“He had to go to San Francisco to see the girls,” Allegra said, sounding as casual as her mother. But they both knew it was all a ruse to give the impression that they were neither concerned nor bothered.
“He'll be back tomorrow though, I'm sure.” Blaire smiled, irritated on Allegra's behalf that he never seemed to be there for her. But she was startled by her daughter's answer.
“Actually, no. He needed the weekend with them. He's starting a trial on Monday, and he wasn't sure when he'd get back to see them.”
“He's not coming to the awards?” Blaire looked stunned. Did this mean anything? Was this one of the early signs of a breakup? She tried to look merely surprised and not hopeful.
“No, it's no big deal.” Allegra lied, not wanting to admit to her how upset she had been. It made her feel so vulnerable to admit to her mother when she had problems with Brandon. It made her feel so inadequate when she had trouble with him. Her mother never did with her father. Her parents' relationship had always been perfect. “I'm going with Alan.”
“That's nice of him,” Blaire said, looking tight-lipped, and sitting down in a comfortable chair near the four-poster. Allegra was watching her. She knew there would be more, and the inevitable questions. Why wasn't he divorced? Why did he go to San Francisco to see his ex-wife all the time? Did she feel that the relationship was going anywhere? Did she realize that on her next birthday she was turning thirty? “Doesn't it bother you when he's not here for things that are important to you?” Her mother's clear, blue-eyed gaze cut straight to her soul, and Allegra tried not to let it.
“Sometimes, but as he says, we're both grownups with big jobs, and a lot of obligations. Sometimes we just can't be there for each other, and we have to understand it. There's no point making a fuss over it, Mom. He's got two kids in another city, and he needs to see them.”
“His timing just seems very poor. Doesn't it to you?” Allegra wanted to scream, listening to her. And the last thing she wanted to do tonight was defend Brandon. She was upset about it herself, and she didn't want to justify his behavior to her mother. But as the two women exchanged a glance, a tall, dark-haired young man appeared in the doorway.
“Who are you two tearing apart now? Brandon, I assume, or is there someone new on the horizon?” Her brother, Scott, had just arrived from the airport, and Allegra sat up on her bed with a delighted grin as he took tw
o long strides, sat down next to her, and hugged her.
“My God, you've grown again,” she said with a groan, as her mother watched them with a warm smile. He looked just like his father. He was six five, and, fortunately, seemed to have stopped growing. He was playing basketball at Stanford. “How big are your feet now?” Allegra teased. Hers were small for her height, but Sam wore a size nine, and Scott was wearing a size thirteen the last time she asked him.
“Still a size thirteen, thanks a lot.” He walked over and hugged his mother then, and sat down on the floor to chat with them both. “Where's Dad?”
“On his way home from the office, I hope. He called a little while ago. Sam's upstairs. And dinner's in ten minutes.”
“I'm starving.” He looked great, and it was obvious, from the way she looked, how proud his mother was of him. They all were. He was going to be a terrific doctor. “So what's the inside scoop?” he asked, turning to Blaire. “Are you going to win, as usual, or are you going to disgrace us for once?”
“Disgrace you, I'm sure.” She laughed, trying not to think of the Golden Globes. Even after all these years of writing and producing hit shows, award ceremonies always made her nervous. “I think Dad's the one who's going to make us proud this year,” she said cryptically, but she wouldn't say more, and then five minutes later, he pulled into the driveway. They all hurried downstairs, and Blaire called upstairs to Sam to get off the phone and come to dinner.
It was a lively meal, and the two men tried to engage in serious conversation over the female hubbub of gossip and news and talk about the awards, and Sam's barrage of questions about Carmen, what she was like, what she wore, who she was going out with. And in the midst of it all, Blaire sat back with a small smile and watched them, her three children, and the husband she had loved for all these years. Not unlike Scott, he was still tall and dark and handsome. He was six four, and there was just a small smudge of gray hair now at his temples, and small crinkles around his eyes, but even those small traces of time only served to make him more attractive. He was a fabulous-looking man, and just watching him still made Blaire tingle. But there was a small ache to it now sometimes, when she let herself worry about the fact that she was changing. He never seemed to change, he only seemed to get better as he got older. But she felt different now; she worried more than she had before, about him, about the kids, about her career. She worried about becoming obsolete, about her ratings having dropped just a bit in the last year, and about Samantha leaving for college. What if she went East after all, or decided to live in the dorms if she went to UCLA? What would she do when they were truly all gone? What if they didn't need her anymore … or she lost the show? What would happen to her when it was all over? What if things should ever change with Simon? But she knew that was foolish.
She tried to talk to Simon about it sometimes. Suddenly she had so many fears, about herself, her life, her body. It had just been in the past year or two, and she knew her looks had changed, no matter how many people told her they hadn't. She was getting older and it was painful sometimes realizing that she seemed to have altered more than Simon. It seemed amazing to her that it had all gone so fast, and she had reached fifty-four so quickly. And soon she would be fifty-five … and then sixty. … It made her want to shout “Oh, my God,” and “Stop the clock … wait … I need more time.” It seemed odd to her that Simon didn't understand that. Maybe because men had more time, their hormones didn't suddenly start changing at fifty, their looks altered more subtly, and they always had the option of a wife half their age, and half a dozen more children. Even if they didn't want them, which Simon always said when Blaire reminded him that he could still have children and she couldn't, even if he had no interest in them at all, he had the option, and that made things different between them. But when she tried to say all those things to him, he just told her she was overworked and she was being silly. “For God's sake, Blaire, the last thing I want is more children. I love the ones we have, but if Sam doesn't grow up soon and get her own apartment one of these days to break the sound barrier in, I may go crazy.” He said that, but Blaire knew he didn't want her to move out either. She was their baby. She wondered, though, why it was all so much easier for him, why he got less upset about things, why he didn't worry as much about Scott's grades, or the fact that Allegra was still with Brandon, after two years, and he was still married to another woman.
But none of that came up at the dinner table. They talked about other things. Simon and Scott talked about basketball, and Stanford, and a possible trip to China. And then they all talked about the Golden Globes, and Scott teased Sam about the last boy he'd seen her go out with. He said the kid was a real nerd, and Samantha defended him hotly, although she insisted she really didn't like him. And Blaire announced that their ratings had just gone up again, after a brief dip the month before, and she was planning to redo the garden and the kitchen next summer.
“Is that supposed to be news?” Simon teased, as a warm look passed between them. “When haven't you been ripping something out and putting something else in? And anyway, I like the garden the way it is. Why change it?”
“I found a fabulous English gardener, and he says he can change everything in two months. The kitchen is another story,” she grinned. “I hope you all like Jack in the Box, we'll be eating all our meals there from May till September.” There was a communal groan, and Simon looked at his only son with a meaningful expression.
“I think that's just about the right length of time for our trip to China.”
“You're not going anywhere.” She looked at him pointedly. “We're shooting all summer this year, and I'm not going to be left alone again.” Every year the two men took a trip together, usually to someplace where Blaire couldn't reach them if she tried, like Samoa, or Botswana. “You can go to Acapulco for the weekend.” Scott laughed at them, and the teasing and the arguments and the exchanges went on until after nine o'clock, when Allegra finally stood up and said she had to get home. She still had some work to do that evening.
“You work too hard,” her mother chided her, and Allegra smiled in answer.
“And you don't?” Her mother worked harder than anyone she knew. And Allegra respected her a great deal for it. “I'll see you tomorrow night, at the awards,” she said, as they all left the table.
“Do you want to come with us?” her mother asked, and she shook her head.
“Alan's always late, and he's got ten million friends wherever we go. He'll probably want to go somewhere afterward. We'd better meet you there, or we'll drive you crazy.”
“You're going with Alan and not Brandon?” Samantha asked her with a look of amazement, and her older sister nodded.
“How come?”
“He had to go to San Francisco to see his kids,” Allegra said matter-of-factly. She felt as though she had already explained it four thousand times, and she was getting tired of it.
“Are you sure he's not sleeping with his ex-wife?” Sam asked her bluntly, and for a minute she knocked the wind out of Allegra. Allegra was quick to respond once she caught her breath again, and she was furious at her younger sister for the question.
“That's a really bitchy thing to say, and totally unnecessary. You ought to watch your mouth, Sam,” Allegra said hotly.
“Well, don't wet your pants over it,” Sam said, looking all cat as the two sisters hissed at each other. “Maybe I'm right, maybe that's why you got so pissed off when I said it.”
“Knock it off,” Scott said to Sam, seeing how upset Allegra was. “His sex life is none of our business.”
“Thanks,” Allegra whispered to him later, as she kissed him good night, but she wondered herself why Sam's comment had upset her so much. Was that really what she thought? Was that what she was afraid of? Of course not. Joanie was dependent and whiny and overweight, and Brandon even said to her all the time how unattractive his ex-wife had gotten. That wasn't the point. It was just that it hurt so much to have to defend him. It was obvious th
at her whole family thought he should be there, and so did she. And secretly, she was furious that he wasn't.
She thought about it again all the way home that night, and by the time she got home she was angry at him all over again. She sat and stewed about it for a while, pretending to pore over her work, and then finally she decided to call him. She knew the number of the hotel where he stayed by heart, and she dialed it with trembling fingers. Maybe she could convince him to come back after all, but then she'd have to explain to Alan that he couldn't take her, and that could have been awkward, even though they were good enough friends that she could say anything to him, and if he was mad about it, he'd tell her.
They rang Brandon's room for her, and she waited interminably. It was after ten o'clock, but he didn't answer. She asked them to try again, just in case they'd gotten the wrong room, but he was clearly not in. He was probably still at the house, talking to Joanie about the divorce. After the girls went to bed, Brandon said, they argued for hours sometimes. But as she thought of it, Sam's words about his sleeping with Joanie popped into her head. And Allegra was furious all over again, at him for being there, and at her sister for having said it. She didn't need to spend her life worrying about him or feeling insecure because of something a teenager said. She had enough going on in her life without this bullshit. And almost as soon as she hung up, the telephone rang, and she smiled to herself. She was hysterical about nothing. It was probably Brandon, and he'd just gotten back to the hotel. But it wasn't. It was Carmen, and she was crying.
The Wedding Page 5
