“It didn't seem all that important. Sam.” And the beauty of it was, she meant it.
“You said you had a guinea pig! Why didn't you say you had a TV show?”
They all laughed at his reasoning, and Charlotte shook her head, and grinned. “They're not exactly the same thing, you know.”
And then suddenly Mel knew, too, and her eyes grew to be enormous. “Oh my God You're Charlotte Sampson!”
“I am.” She said quietly as Aggie passed another heaping basket of the delicious muffins, and glanced at her with pride. It was as though she and Charlie were old friends, and Charlotte shot her a grateful look, and whispered, “Thanks, Aggie,” as she took another muffin from the basket.
“Why didn't you tell us?” She echoed her brother's words, and Charlotte looked at her seriously.
“Would it have made you like me any better? It shouldn't, you know. That kind of thing is nice, but it isn't really very important.”
“I know, but …” Wait till she told her friends at school that she had actually had dinner with Charlotte Sampson! Lots of kids knew famous actors here, some of them were even related to them, but she had never known any before, and as she looked Charlotte over again more carefully this time, she thought she was terrific. And so did her father. He loved the way she was handling his kids, the things she said, the way she looked, the values that made her who she was, instead of just a famous actress. “Wow, it's really exciting to meet you,” Mel said honestly, and Charlotte laughed.
It was a compliment that meant something to her, especially coming from Ollie's daughter.
“Thank you, Mel. It's exciting to meet you too. I was so nervous before I came over tonight, I must have changed my clothes ten times!” Ollie was touched, and Mel looked astounded.
“You? Nervous about meeting us That's amazing! What's it like being on TV?” After that, they fired a hundred questions at her, about who she knew, who she'd seen, who she worked with, what it was like being on-screen, learning lines, was she ever scared, did she really like it?
“Hey, guys, relax,” Oliver intervened at last, “give Charlie a chance to eat her dinner at least.” They hadn't let her come up for air since they'd figured out who she was, and suddenly into the silence Mel asked her a single question.
“How'd you meet our dad?” She was curious, no longer critical, and Charlie smiled tenderly at the question.
“Just good luck, I guess. A few weeks ago, at a network Christmas party.”
And then Oliver decided to tell them the truth, or part of it anyway. He figured they were ready for it. “Charlie was nice enough to invite me for Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve.” He didn't tell them he'd spent the night with her, however, or made love to her in their pool on Christmas Day, or fallen head over heels in love with her the moment they met, but Mel could see it, and even Sam suspected this was serious. They looked at each other kind of weird, more even than Mom and Jean-Pierre. But it was okay with him, he thought, Charlotte Sampson was terrific.
And as soon as they finished dessert, he invited her once again to go to the garage with him to view his worm farm. And much to Mel's horror, she went, and returned to announce it was much better than hers had been. And Sam said proudly he'd won the science prize for it, as his sister told him again that he was revolting.
At nine o'clock, Sam went to bed, and Mel stayed downstairs to talk to her about scripts and agents and acting. Charlotte confessed she had always wanted to do a Broadway play, and finally, with regret, she looked at her watch, and admitted she had a 4:00 A.M. studio call the next day to shoot a tough scene she still had to review when she went home. “There's a lot of hard work to it, Mel, if you're serious about acting as a career. But I have to admit, I love it.”
“Could I come and see you on the set sometime?” Mel dared to ask, astonished at her own courage, but Charlie made them all so comfortable that it was almost like asking an old friend, and she quickly nodded.
“Sure. If your dad doesn't mind. He watched me do a commercial a couple of weeks ago, and it was fun.” She smiled shyly up at him, and he touched the hand Mel couldn't see from where she stood. And she was too busy being impressed to notice the electricity between them.
“Wow, Dad, how was it?”
“Interesting. Exhausting.” He looked into Charlie's eyes sympathetically. “How many takes did they do in all?”
“Thirty-two, I think. Maybe more. I forget.”
“The other actor kept blowing his lines, and they had to shoot again and again,” he explained to Mel.
“But it was fun watching anyway. It's incredible how many people are involved.”
“You should see what goes on when they do the show, speaking of which …” She walked slowly toward the door, and waved good night to Mel, who flew upstairs to call her friends and tell them who she'd met. And Oliver walked her out to her car, with a look of ever-growing admiration.
“You are really incredible, do you know that? Worm farms, patience with teenage girls, is there anything else about you I should know?”
“Yes.” She looked happily up at him. It had been a wonderful evening, and all her fears had been dispelled. She hoped they liked her. “I love you very much, Oliver Watson.”
“I love you too, Charlie,” he whispered as he kissed her. And from his bedroom window, Sam stared in amazement as he watched them, and then turned to Aggie, who was turning down his bed.
“Wow, Aggie! Dad just kissed Charlotte Sampson!” That was really something else, but Agnes only clucked at him.
“Mind your own business, young man, and go brush your teeth!”
“Do you think she really likes him?”
“I suspect she does. Your father is a fine man, who wouldn't?”
“But she's a movie star, Aggie … or TV, or … you know …”
“What difference does that make?” And as he went to brush his teeth, still shaking his head over it, Aggie thought they were both very lucky people. And after what she'd seen tonight, so were the children.
Chapter 23
That weekend, Charlotte drove up their driveway in her car, got out, and solemnly rang the doorbell. And when Sam answered, thrilled to see her again, she handed him an odd-shaped cage, covered by a pale blue blanket. There were odd squeaking noises from within, and a pungent smell he didn't mind, and as he pulled off the blanket, he gave a squeal of delight himself. It was a long-haired guinea pig. And she had been right, it did look like a cross between a small dog and a rabbit.
“Wow! Wow! … Look at that, Dad!” He called to his father just coming down the stairs, freshly shaved and showered, “Can I keep it?” He looked from him to Charlotte. And Charlotte looked pleadingly at the senior Watson.
“I guess you can.” He smiled lovingly at her. All she did was make them happy.
“Can I keep him in my room?”
“If you can stand the smell, you can.” The two adults laughed and Sam took the cage from her hand, and hurried up the stairs with it before any of them could change their mind on him.
They went to Malibu that afternoon to play on the beach, and a movie Mel wanted to see that night, some ghastly teenage horror, that Charlie said reminded her of some of her early work, and then they went to the Hard Rock Cafe and she didn't even seem to mind the noise. And the following week they went to Disneyland. Life was a constant holiday with her. She thought of terrific things to do, exciting events to see, and she even invited them to her house and made dinner for them, although Sam admitted reluctantly that Agnes was a better cook, but in every other way, he liked Charlie even better. The guinea pig had even been named after her, and was called Charles, and Charlie for short. And Mel had already told everyone she'd ever met that her father was going out with Charlotte Sampson.
Neither of the children objected to her, and they didn't even look upset when Oliver said he was going out at night, which wasn't often during the week, since she worked so hard and had to be on the set so early. And twice she had even stay
ed over on the weekend and slept in their guest room. She was a great one for decorum and behavior that wouldn't embarrass the children. And neither of them knew that late at night, their father tiptoed down the hall, and climbed into bed with her with a happy smile as she told him to ssshhh! and giggled.
It was, for all of them, the perfect arrangement. And when George and Margaret came out a month after the children got home, they liked her too. At first they were enormously impressed to meet her. But they forgot quickly that she was famous. She was so unaware of herself, so discreet about her success, so warm to those she cared about, and kind to everyone, it seemed, that everyone fell in love with the woman and not the TV star. As she had said when she first met Mel, her success was nice but it wasn't the most important thing in her life. It was the people she loved who really mattered to her.
But they were all aware of her fame nonetheless, because wherever one went, people wanted her to sign autographs, or intruded at unexpected times asking her if she was … and telling her how much they liked the show … and wanting to know who Mel and Sam were … It annoyed them sometimes, and Oliver tried not to think about it more than heliad to. But Charlie was always gracious to her fans, patient, understanding, and acted as though she had been waiting for them to come over and talk to her all day and was glad they had. Sometimes, Mel asked her how she could stand it without losing her temper.
“It's part of the job, sweetheart. You accept that when you take on this kind of work, or you'll never amount to much. You're doing this for them as much as yourself. And the day you stop caring about them, is the day you stop giving a good performance.”
And most of all Oliver's father, George, thought she was absolutely charming, the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he only prayed she would marry his son. And before he left, he asked Oliver if he'd ask her.
“Come on, Dad. We haven't even known each other two months yet, don't rush me. Besides, she has quite a career on her hands. I don't know that she wants to settle down with an ordinary mortal and a bunch of kids.” She said she did, but the truth was, he was afraid to ask her.
“I think she does. She's got real honest-to-goodness decent values.”
“I know, but she could have anyone she wants in Hollywood. Give it time.” He still couldn't believe his good fortune. But neither could Charlie.
And they were sitting talking quietly one night, after his father and Margaret had gone back to New York again, when the phone rang and it was Benjamin, and he was crying so hard, Ollie could hardly understand him.
“Take it easy, Son, slow down … that's it … take a deep breath …”He looked worriedly at Charlie, fearing an accident. He hadn't heard front him in weeks, there was never an answer when he called, and he had asked his father to look in on him when he got back, at the house in Purchase. “Benjamin, talk to me, what is it?” All he could hear was still the sound of jagged crying.
“I can't take it anymore, Dad … I just can't take it … I hate her …”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I'm just so tired … all I do is work and pay for stuff for the baby and for her … she gave up her job, and she thought she was pregnant again, but she wasn't.” And this time, the baby wouldn't have been his, at least, he hadn't touched her in two months. “She's been going out with Billy Webb and Johnny Pierson … I don't know, Dad … all she does is go out. Sometimes I have to take the baby to work with me. I love Alex, I don't want to leave him … but I can't …” He started to cry again. “… I can't do this anymore … I just can't. Last week I thought of killing myself, I sat in the garage for an hour, trying to get the guts to turn the car on, but I couldn't. I just kept thinking of Alex and what would happen to him if he was left with her. She doesn't give a damn, Dad. Sometimes she doesn't even remember to feed him all day and he's screaming his lungs out when I get home. Last week he almost fell in the pool when I left him alone with her for ten minutes. Dad … help me please … get me out of this….” The jagged sobbing seemed to go on for hours, but when Oliver suggested he come out to California as soon as he could, Benjamin said he couldn't leave the baby. He loved him too much and Sandra would neglect him too badly.
“Why don't you bring him?”
“She says she won't let me. I told her last week, I'd take him away, and she said she'd call the police if I tried it. She says I have no right to take him, she's his mother. And if I took him, all her friends would think she'd done something really awful, and it would make her look bad. But she doesn't want to take care of him either.”
“What about Sandra's mother? Do you think she'd help?”
“I don't know. Her boyfriend walked out on her and she moved to Bakersfield from L.A.”
“Do you have her number?”
“Yeah. Sandra left it on the kitchen wall” His crying had finally subsided. He was eighteen years old and staggering under an awesome burden. “You know, she hasn't even been home since yesterday morning. She's been screwing around almost since right after Alex was born,” he was five and a half months old by then, “and, Dad, I tried to make it work, I really did, but I just can't,” and then in a voice of shame, “Sometimes I hate her.” Oliver didn't blame him a bit, and suspected that in his shoes, he might have killed her, or certainly walked out on her a long time since. But Benjamin was so determined to do the right thing, by her, and by his son. He was only grateful once again that the boy hadn't married her. At least that much was simple.
“Just relax. Why don't you go to Grampa's for the weekend?”
“What'U I do with Alex?” He sounded suddenly blank, like a helpless child. After almost a year of working two jobs, and supporting a girl who wasn't his wife, and almost six months of caring for his child, the boy was so worn out, he could hardly think straight.
“Take him with you. Margaret'U give you a hand, she was a nurse. Just pack up your stuff, and get the hell out of there. I'll call him and tell him you're coming. Now give me Sandra's mother's number.” Benjamin gave it to him, and hung up after promising to pack a bag for both of them end go to his grandfather's that evening.
Oliver called his father then, and explained the situation as he repeated it to Margaret in the background, and assured his son that he would do everything he could to help the boy.
“You've got to get him out of that situation, Oliver.”
“I'm going to do everything I can, Dad.” He didn't tell him that his oldest grandson had actually contemplated suicide over it, he was still too shaken over it himself. But he told Charlotte when he hung up, and she was horrified.
“Oh my God, Ollie, get him out of there. Why don't you fly back there to pick him up?”
“I want to talk to the girl's mother first, and see if she'll take in Sandra and the baby.” He dialed the number in Bakersfield, and the woman answered it on the first ring. She sounded drunk, and more than a little stupid, but she knew who Oliver was, and about Sandra and Benjamin and the baby. And Oliver patiently explained that he and Benjamin felt the time had come to make some other arrangements. He asked if she would be willing to take her daughter back into her home, with her baby. And after hedging for a while, she finally asked Oliver the only question that really concerned her.
“Would ya pay for the kid, if I did? And her too?”
“I might.” It would be worth anything to him to get her out of Benjamin's life, but he didn't want to tell her that. It would make her even more greedy. “It depends how much we're talking about. And I would certainly expect Sandra to work to support herself as well, unless she goes back to school, of course.” But the woman seemed less than interested in her daughter's education.
“How much are we talkin' about?”
“Say five hundred a month for her and the child.” It wasn't a fortune, but it was enough, particularly if she was living with her mother.
“I guess that's all right.” She wanted to grab it before he changed his mind. Hell, they didn't hardly need no money for the kid, she told herself. All i
t ate was baby food, and she and Sandra could have some fun with the rest of the money.
“Would you be willing to sign papers agreeing to that amount?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“How soon would you be willing to take her in?”
“Hell, I don't know. I'm not working right now. I guess I could help her with the kid …” Her voice seemed to drift off at the other end, she wasn't crazy about the idea of living with a screaming brat, and having Sandra on her hands, again, but on the other hand the money sounded pretty good to her, unless she could do even better. “How about seven hundred, come to think of it?”
“Six.” Oliver's face froze with disgust. He hated even dealing with her, and listening to her made him cringe, thinking that Benjamin had been living with her daughter.
“Okay. I'll take it.”
“I'll have them on a plane to you tomorrow.”
He called Margaret after that, and asked her if she could go to the house in Purchase and help the girl get on a plane to Los Angeles with the baby. And then keep Benjamin with her for the weekend. He wanted him to cool out a little bit, and he didn't want him to go through the stress of being on the same plane to L. A. with Sandra and little Alex.
Margaret sounded like an angel of mercy to him, and rapidly agreed to help. She didn't sound flustered or confused, but perfectly calm, and anxious to do everything she could to help, without upsetting Oliver's father. He thanked her from the bottom of his heart, and she assured him she'd close the house in Purchase after Benjamin left, turn on the alarm, and keep an eye on it for him after that. He hadn't wanted to sell it in any case, until he was sure they were staying in California. It was his fallback, which was why he had only rented in California.
And then he called Benjamin, who sounded as though he was waiting by the phone. “It's all taken care of, Son. I talked to her mother, and she'll be happy to take them in.” He made it sound like a warmer welcome than it was, and explained that they would be providing adequate funds for the child's support, so he didn't have to worry about that. “I'll have a prepaid ticket for them at the airport tomorrow, and Margaret will come over and help her pack and take you to Grandpa's. And then I thought maybe you could spend a day or two with them, and come out here.” And then he'd be home. After all these months, he'd be back in the fold again, to start a new life, or pick up the threads of his old one. It would never be quite the same for him again, Oliver knew, he couldn't erase what had happened, or forget the child, but he had a right to move on and not get buried alive with a girl he didn't love and a baby he had never really wanted. He had done the noble thing for long enough, but now that he had opened the door, Oliver was going to get him the hell out of that mess as fast as he could, before he could change his mind again. Benjamin balked at first, at the prospect of letting Sandra take the baby. But he was too tired and depressed to fight anymore, and his father kept telling him that Sandra's mother was going to take care of the baby. Benjamin sounded numb as he agreed to all of it, and then after a long moment of silence, his voice sounded sad as he thanked his father.
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